Thursday, September 27, 2012

People are interested in your life.
Sure they are.
People care about you.
 Sure they do.

How do people with so much spite sleep in peace? Or do they?

They are funny, the times we live in. I can use an app or a one line formula on excel to find out how many days i have lived in exact but somehow, these few minutes i don't feel like doing so.
May be we/I won't be flake someday.
May be We/I agree that We/I still do have control over our lives and our future.
Chippi irrukudu. Muthum irrukudu.

Pada pada nu irrukku, Rama. 

Sunday, September 23, 2012


over troubled water.
Watching water recede
(from the sand).
Waiting to see
sand being advanced,
by the water of a turbulent sea,
from the
not Broken.

...When tout est calme, may'aps.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Tout Est Calme

Falsifying, breaking, burning.
What else is left in the reprimanding, Almighty?

For the record:
There's a sharp, sharp pain,
right where it all resided.
Chagrin. That's what has resulted.
If that's what these were meant to do.
If that's what makes someone happy.
If that's what gives someone peace.

Very well, is there a choice?
There's got to be a weather to take it all.

Monday, September 3, 2012

Punctured in reality...

...Unlike the other times.

Would it matter if, in humble astuteness and hope, I know it can be filled up (or made sturdy with tubeless tyres, mayaps) because of that very awareness? Would you stand by a little while?