Oh so...

I'm not going to try any harder
You can come crying if you wanna
I've nothing to apologize for
Conscience as clear as chaos
Knees unbent
I shall not bow to your whims
I shall not frown on your fancies

philo

every prediction is a generalisation actually

but i've found that if u are superstitious and u keep on thinking bout it

it happens

and u cant run from it

its like gods shown u a piece of ur destiny but stolen the power to 'fix it'

then again everything is meant to be and it'll 'fix' itself later on if u believe

Phucked Phone, Fucked Future

Aphoristic brevity..hmmm

I’m dancing on my keyboard with an ice block in my melting fingers J

I love chocolate but it can’t cure my phoney phix

;\ ;[ :{ :[ make good grumpy faces

I have a never ending must watch/listen to do list….

What ill do doesn’t depend on what I want to do

Considering I want to sleep at this hour..life is not working very well

Considering my phone is my life

Its switched off right now

Buried beneath pics of a girl who smiled in the face of disaster..the one I used to be

I used to follow the retard smile theory without even knowing it]

I was too much of a dimpler to notice

I take awesome pics

Wont be able to now

It makes death groans, battle cries as it helplessly blinks itself into permanent sleep

My phone that is

The one who’s battery I fucked up

The one that isn’t even really mine

The one I have to pay for from my naked bank accounts

Chocolate for him too

Wreaths of brown dark brown chocolate wont cure him

He has attitude man I miss him

Icy fingers type faster

They really do iced lips chap faster

They do

They really do

Angry eyes close faster

They do they really do

Ppl like me break faster

They do they really do

Listening to…..someone else’s past playlist…

Swollen numbness

Random thoughtedness

Confounded contemplationism

Ah..longwordism

All isms are worthless questions of philosophy

The understood is tagged

Woken up

Slept down

Spring cleaning

Tonight I cry myself to sleep
In a strangers bed
In a strangers head

That's never gonna happen again!
I'm gonna make sure that never
happens again
It's not wrong to be emotional
or sentimental!
But there's so much more to you
Ur funny
U make friends with ppl on the bus
U get grossed out by funny things
and laugh at gross things
He he
And that's ok :)

Rule No 1) U will not msg only one person continuously for a day...not even a day.
2) Writing may cure nuerostamia but it can also cause another type of mental disturbance
if you don't do it right

NO More msg Diaries!

I know u loved it but u were addicted to it...so no more
No more...

3) U will not apologize for being yourself!
NO! NO! NO!
U will not let anyone invade ur
personal space NO! NO! NO!
Personal space-u've forgotten the
meaning of that- haven't u?
He he it's ok
Things will start making sense
again...slowly...

4) Too much of a good thing is bad
Let ppl handle their own problems
for a change
They are capable of it u know :)
And they know when to ask for
help u don need to go
running every time you see a
frown.
Yes, making someone else smile
makes u smile but thats not
the only thing
Nonsensical TV shows, crappy jokes,
funny faces in the mirror,
those things feel good too.
Enjoy Maadi
Chill!

Into Dust

A Kabaddiwalla’s shack marks the entrance to a dirt road into oblivion. His children run naked around a burnt out Godrej fridge, empty cardboard boxes, stacks of old newspapers. At night you can see the whole family snuggling beneath a thin blanket under the sparkling sky. But no one would dare tread this path in the dark.

The best time to take a leisure trip down this lesser known tributary of Borewell Road is at sunset. The magnificent beauty of the orange sky is the only thing that can hypnotize you away from the stench. Plastic bags strewn by ‘civilized’ BPO workers contribute to the wasteland on either side.

A few steps later, on the left the grass that swallows the garbage erupts into tin tents sheltering migratory workers. Members of this community would gladly accept leftovers from the housewarming ceremony conducted across the road. Here, the village plumber has converted his one room space to a multi-storey money-making machine.

Further down the same side of the road you would find the greedy ration lady selling government provisions at outrageous rates. Ignore the public toilet on your right as you squeeze through an unruly Lantana bush where snakes hide.

This minor hardship is worth the wide expanse of open field encountered on the other side. Stretch your arms as you kick up the dust where neighbourhood cricket champions search for a sixer-ed ball.

But the only ball you should be focusing on is the fiery globe sinking behind the once thriving eucalyptus grove. Temple bells ring in the distance. The shrine of Kali is only visible to the familiar eye.

Your treacherous journey down one of the last dirt roads of the now hi-tech, Coffee-Day loving Whitefield draws to a close. The heavens darken above you as my village remains but a star in the night sky of your mind.