It's been a little more than half a month. I'm still trying to make the 'I'm a happy hippie' one-liner I spotted at Lameulla hit me hard.

--

I need to walk up to people and say, 'To all the people out there, adopt yourselves.' :|

Sarita

Don't come near me.
I am bold and dainty.

By the rocks, on the shore,
a hat in tow,
I live by the sand.
You won't find me.

I am mercurial.
and there is no crab-shell.

I hate being the sand.
It's better to be
the vapour in oceanic breeze,
than salt in sea water.


It matters, and not.
Like a kill and a shootout.

Allegorical vainness, all.

-

I haven't been writing. I've just ruffled and ruined my own enough.

Where is it?
That burnt and broken piece of dime?
Have you had a margarita?
Lemony lime?

Do you see the tandem?
Or fail to?
Are you?
Is it shriveled as this post and its question marks?

There is a larger meaning, you know.
Much larger.
May be the piano will speak.
Or the arbitrates.
May be thought doesn't,
hope does;
eyes don't,
and restless fingers do.

A direct translation from my tamil head:
How do these two horns grow from nowhere on these people!

(The rant was needed and had to be emphatic)

5-day Everyday

I got used to something.