i miss this space.

come down now,

but we'll stay.

Safe places are for fools.

Ive been found it, it isnt safe to write here anymore.

Damnation.

Thats all folks.

dontleavehome

Dear Ma and Pa,

Hey, sorry I havnt written in ages, I always promise you guys an email every couple of days but it seems like I never actually end up writing. I was going through the old emails to you guys to see where I left off and seems the last thing I wrote about is international orientation when I was begging you guys to book me a ticket back home. Those were they initial days I guess, full of not knowing which way was up or down, no way of figuring out wether to turn left or right, lost, confusion, one bad time basically.

Things have changed, turns out ive been here for almost two months now but it seems like ive lived through a lifetime. Im a new person, or atleast someone who doesnt really know what happened before I got here. Oddly enough, I dont have a home now, when I think about Karachi or my room or other things that were integral to my old life they just seem..out of place. I remember my past, but it seems like it was just a movie that I saw or a book I read, not really a life that I lived for eighteen years. When I speak to you on the phone or when a friend from home calls it feels (and I hate this word) surreal. I cant place you guys, you no longer make sense in this context or in this time. I dont have parents, im no ones daughter or sister, nor someones childhood friend or ex-girlfriend. Im this, im this girl sitting on the third floor of the library acting like shes doing work for her midterm tomorrow but is instead wasting away on blogger.

Im coughing a lot, and it seems to be bugging people. Im sitting in a 'reading room' and I guess it isnt really a place for the sick. If I were smart about this flu I would bunk a day of classes and drink soup and get over it. But I dont have the time to fall sick, I really dont have the time to do anything that I need to. Even meals seem like a luxury that I dont have the time to indulge in. Every break, every five minute run to the bathroom, every short nap on top of my books seems like the biggest tragedy in my life. Dont worry though, atleast my grades are good. I just kicked ass in my Greek Mythology Presentation. Heh, dad I can just imagine you saying 'my daughter gets my speaking skills from me' and sure, your right. We can bullshit like no other, helps us get away with a lot.

Everytime I speak to you guys you ask me if ive made friends, every single time. I guess the first couple of emails gave you the idea that I im the biggest loner here. Dont worry, I have friends, more than I could ask for. Its Karachi all over again. Mom called it my 'charisma' but I dont know. Everyones really nice here and I guess you just have to be nice back.

Today I was told I had really pretty eyes, made my day.

Decemeber is going to weird.

Oh and I must confess, I kinda miss the dog more than my family.

Heh, enough for now, I have class in ... three minutes.

Oh and its frightfully cold here, was minus 7 two days ago.. and I hear it just gets worse.. and I only have six dollars in my checking account so it would be nice if you sent me some moolah.

Much love,
Your daughter.

soles of shoes.

Funny thing, I dont get homesick when im all alone in my dorm room after a long day or when I wake up and realize that I really havnt gotten enough sleep to last through my 9 am class. I dont feel homesick when I see parents walking around with their kids or groups of people that seem to have known each other for ages.

I feel homesick when im at my happiest.

Because ive known a happines far superior, far clearer, far simpler, far more worthier.

Today, on the drive back home, the car became quiet as well all shut up to listen to her favourite song. I was at the back on the right side, next to the window- my favourite seat in cars always. The window was open, I shivered as cold air gushed in and I (as always) managed to ash my smoke inside the car instead of outside. The street lights were on, we were going fast, all well fed and content. Comfortable silences, bodies huddled together, on our way back home.

Ive done this before, in another country, in another time with other people.


I love you all, I love college, I love my new life.



But im sorry, but you guys have nothing on the people ive left behind.

-

Your hand pulled away and im, de-vas-tated.

I know ive heard that song somewhere, and its just stuck in my head, that one particular line over and over again. I might just google the lyrics eventhough I have fifty papers to write (and two whole novels to read and critique) but hey, im sitting in the library on blogger so its pretty evident already that my priorities are a bit random.

I dont want to get up from this seat, this seat in the middle of the library, dead in the centre of all these people going clickety click on their computers. Some feverishly typing out papers three minutes before its due, some people wasting away on facebook and some people like me- who have things to do but just wants to take a moment to pause.

I guess thats what words are for me, my pauses. College life is so incredibly fast paced, when your not in class your somewhere doing work, when your not doing work your out for lunch or for dinner or for no reason at all. The constant need to be social is scary, the constant need to look semi presentable, to have a smile on your face, to make small talk or partake in intense conversation when you really have no intensity left. That, that need to always have your game face on is what is exhausting, the work load is rough but can be managed and ive settled in quite brilliantly. Friends are.. easy to make. Turns out my fear of 'im going to be a loner in college' was just a wee bit over dramatic after all.

But I miss this, this ability to just sit by myself with my words and my thoughts and to type them out, with my own clickety click, with my little white space that is plain and boring but its mine. I have no spaces here, no quiet areas where I can go to and just be the girl who has her hair tied in a bun and is wearing a big baggy shalwar and a tshirt. And its not that big a deal, not worth complaining about, its just missed thats all, and I guess thats worth a few words.

I told my friends I was going to the bathroom, they must be wondering where the fuck I have vanished of too.

I wish I had cried when I left my house for the airport, I wish I had cried when I said goodbye to my friends, I wish I had cried when I hailed my parents a cab and my mothers tiny little body shuddered against mine. She cried, why couldnt I? Crying has a sense of finality in it, a finality that I havnt achieved and I desperately need to.

Im in limbo here, nervy and floaty.

Have you ever gone to the edge of a mountain or any reallyreally high place and stood three inches before the great fall down?

Thats my head right now, still but crashing silently.

'You exude brilliance'.. you tell me that everyday when you see me.

Hah baby doll, if only you knew the thoughts that float in my head.

There are good days followed inevitably by bad days.

There are days that you want to go home, there are days in which you cant imagine life anywhere else.

There are days when you feel like you just wont fit in and there are days when you try to juggle all the people who want to spend time with you.

There are overwhelmed days that get balanced out with days when you feel like your floating instead of walking.

Things make sense somedays, other days it feels like stuff will never settle down.



And then, there are days when you just look out your window and realize that how beautiful everything is, and irrespective of good or bad, this is home.

And it doesnt hurt that its fucking beautiful.

its ok if you dont find this funny.

Walking. Lost. Painfully miserably sadly lost. Me. You. The other guy. What was his name again?

Left right. Left right. Oh for christs sake, WHERE THE FUCK DID OUR COLLEGE GO?

Phone rings.

Fumble. Trip. Put hand in bag and aimlessly reach around for vibrating cellular device. Hand feels a small square object. Flip open.

'Uhhh Hellooo?'

'Where the FUCK are you guys?'

'We went off to find food and we got kind of.. lost.'

'YOUR WANDERING THE STREETS AT THREE IN THE MORNING?'

'Uhh Yes.'

'ARE YOU CRAZY?'

'Uhhhhh'

'Okay fuck it. Tell me where you are ill tell you how to get back.'

'We're on Grand I think.'

'Grand and what?'

(walks to the corner to see)

'Corner of Grand anddd..'

'Grand and?'

'Grand and..'

'CORNER OF GRAND AND WHAT'

'GRAND AND DRUNK. IM ON THE CORNER OF GRAND AND DRUNK.'

Then we laugh for a good hour before regaining composure and realizing we were infact just two streets away from the fucking dorm.

Ah, college.

Tired. Tired being the operative word. A long day that was just getting longer. The day having leaked into in to the night without me realizing, one stop after the other, one person met after the other. Waking up to being forced to going to brunch, running into random people and becoming friends at the grate, going to the mall with the girls, returning to group study Sociology and a much needed shower filled with some desperately searched for alone time. Throwing on a sweater pinning back my hair, putting on the prettiest of prettiest gold earings I had bought earlier and making two calls before deciding what to do for the rest of the night.

My basic problem? Thinking and over thinking and re-thinking till it’s the death of me. All I do all the time is analyze and investigate and assume. Is it the way I want to be? No. It is the way I am? Yes.

At 12-45 in the morning, I crossed the street on the way to the campus center. Halfway across the street I noticed a random spring in my step and half smiled. At that moment, the sky was illuminated and random lightning appeared from where. I cursed myself for not bringing a jacket and quickened my step to get to where everyone was waiting.

At 12-46, I stopped thinking, I decided to stop being so hard on myself.

And here I am, content.

Who would’ve thought.

And so, we find our way.

thankyou for keeping me sane.

ill never tell you, but you mean the world to me.

soaking it up

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Right, so its freaking tuesday morning, 11-02 being the exact time.

I have class tomorrow at 9 in the morning, I have laundry to do and I must clean my room before my roommate throws me out. I need to change the bedsheets, shower, call my parents and fill out fifty million forms. I have to attend some asain thing at the cultural house, show up for a study session and manage to not throw up at the cafteria food.

AND LETS NOT EVEN START ABOUT THE WORK LOAD.

2 Chapters for Socio.
150 pages for Art.
60 pages of Random bull for Asian Studies.
Half of the FUCKING ILIAD for Greek Myth.

AND I ALSO HAVE TO WATCH THE LION KING AND DECONSTRUCT IT FOR CLASS TOMORROW.

I MEAN WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU FUCKING MESSING WITH DISNEY.

Hakuna freakin Matata.

Problem free philosophy my ass.

Oh, and im also out of cigarettes. 4 dollars a pack. Haw.

To the library I go, coffee in hand, a million thoughts in my head, more than half of them about you.

Sorry about the small text of this post and the others, my laptop (oh my sexy sexy macbook) doesnt give you the option of making the font bigger. Oh well, guess i can fix it at the library.

I CANNOT EAT AT THE CAFE AGAIN.

I have enough money to either by myself sushi or cigarettes.

Smokes win every time.

(Rap is not music god dammit.)

take me home.

im tired of making polite conversation and laughing even when i dont find things funny.

im tired of not being the person i was, the person i am, the person im too scared to be.

fake plastic me is hard to mantain.

take me fucking home.

we did the best we could.

Right.

So like, I leave for college tomorrow.

I wont really have access to internet till I get my own laptop which is not anytime soon, so I guess blogging is kind of out of the question- though the need to blog is long gone these days.

I wish I had something to beautiful to say, you know, a tribute to Karachi, a tribute to the people who have made it home, atleast a little goodbye note, something. But no, the thoughts are all there but they arnt forming words in my head. Sure, im sad and im blah and im depressed, but mostly im just restless. I dont know what to do and how to react. This is all so new and unfamiliar- and hell it hasnt even started yet.

This should be interesting.

The goodbyes tomorrow are going to be worth seeing.

If I cry im seriously going to kill someone.

God, I really have nothing to say.

Goodbye then.

we did the best we could.

Right.

So like, I leave for college tomorrow.

I wont really have access to internet till I get my own laptop which is not anytime soon, so I guess blogging is kind of out of the question- though the need to blog is long gone these days.

I wish I had something to beautiful to say, you know, a tribute to Karachi, a tribute to the people who have made it home, atleast a little goodbye note, something. But no, the thoughts are all there but they arnt forming words in my head. Sure, im sad and im blah and im depressed, but mostly im just restless. I dont know what to do and how to react. This is all so new and unfamiliar- and hell it hasnt even started yet.

This should be interesting.

The goodbyes tomorrow are going to be worth seeing.

If I cry im seriously going to kill someone.

God, I really have nothing to say.

Goodbye then.

Heh.

‘It’s as if I’ve taken love heroin, and I can’t ever have it again.

Ive opened Pandora’s Box and there’s trouble inside.’

‘Yeah.. Tricky. Tricky.

I knew a girl at school called Pandora-

-never got to see her box though.’



Lets do this thing.

silly me.

And here I thought that bloggers were the most non-judgemental people you could ever meet.

Does the fact that I dont believe in god/drink alcohol make me a bad person?

Seems like it.

I need somewhere new to vent.

old school

So, the writers block continues. This was written over a year ago, I don’t know why I never blogged it, probably because its incomplete. Why am I posting it now? I don’t know, but what does it matter. I guess it deserves its moment too.

Orange walls lit in circles with yellow candles. Cold air breaks white light, till only a few remain. With every low hiss, we are plunged in a slightly darker tone of gray; one by one we drift deeper. I sit, cross legged; tattered and frayed jeans lay lightly on white sofa. My hair flows down my back making waves and small constellations- who could be bothered to blow dry and straighten for this lot. My shirt clings to nothing, excess material covers me and I feel free to stretch without exposing myself. My eyes are circled in dark brown, the rest of my face is pure, no make up, no need to hide any marks- you can see everything when you talk to me. My eyes shine, I’m listening and you know it, I laugh at all the correct moments and my mouth forms a perfect round when I’m shocked by your concluding statement.

For you id bleed myself dry
For you id bleed myself dry

The food is getting cold, the clock strikes a time later than my curfew- but it doesn’t matter, when we’re together its like everything freezes somewhere between nonsense and rationale, and all of a sudden emotion and consequence meet between shards of silver and moon white space. You toss your head back and your hair is free for a minute, and I exercise every iota of self control to stop myself from smoothing it back into place. I hide behind a cynical comment mixed with a heavy dose of sarcasm and you pause in your story telling to just look at me for a moment. I don’t know what your thinking, but I can only guess that it’s in the positive- your eyes give you away. For a split second you’re naked in front of me and I see through your well applied layers of macho-ness and charm.

You don’t how lovely you are. Perfect really, every devilish grin and slow blink has me hooked. Im looking at you from a distance, both of us involved in our own fake conversation, me being slightly bored you being close to killing yourself. The music starts, I get dragged unto the dance floor against my will, I move because the music demands it, not because I want to. Up down, move left move right, it’s so robotic. More people join us, your there amongst the crowd, visually pleasing, mentally so far gone that the flashes of red and blue light have you possessed. We move, doing our own two steps in our own little square box, our poor dance partners oblivious. The song changes, I stop to tie up my hair, I feel you from behind.

Turn, maintain balance, smile.

‘It’s our song’

‘Really, I hadn’t realized.’


And with that, it began. And with that, I fell.

contentment.

finally.

-

Don't waste your time on me your'e already the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on me your'e already the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on me you're already the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on me you're already the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on me you're already the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on me you're already the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on me you're already the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on me you're already the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on me you're alerady the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on me you're already the voice inside my head.
Don't waste your time on my you're already the voice inside my head.

Isn't there a sentence that comes between everytime he sings this line?

There sure was.

What was it again?

I remember

Oh yeah.

'I miss you.'

this is not a post.

Washed out at eighteen. Brilliant.

My sleep schedule will eternally be fucked. I can only sleep for 3 hours at a stretch, and am always awake at exactly 5-32 in the morning- no matter what I do.

Oh, Happy Birthday to the Dadi. May you grow even older than you already are. There better be a nice farewell gift in the making for me. I must say, for an elderly person, you're pretty decent looking. Perhaps I can stop cringing when people tell me I look like my grandmother.

This is me. Sleepy at two in the afternoon, an official facebook slut, missing two teeth (fuck you mr dentist man for taking out my wisdoms) and in need of some serious fun/valium.

Ho hum.

I dont want to blog anymore. Yes, this is me throwing a tantrum. The other blog is temporarily shut. So is this one.

Bah.

(oh and, I think I need to go to college with a big board saying 'no i dont want to blow you up' written on it.)

dude

Ive like, run out of words.

Scary.

nostalgia

this is what you do when you cant sleep.
blog about school.


home, always. 

Well, I love the rain the most when it stops
We can see the big white houses, yeah, and the docks
And we can jump in the river, don't know if the water or sky is clearer
But I know that I love the rain the most
When it stops
Yeah, when it stops

Rain makes the people of Karachi emotional. I don’t know what it is about drops falling from the sky, but it has the weirdest of effects on us. The whole world treats rain like a bad thing, or at least an ordinary thing, but we look forward to it, and hope and hope that the idiots at Ptv finally manage on being right when they predict thunderstorms and lightning. Everything’s flooded, I hear the underpass was actually quite a sight to see, getting from A to B has never been harder, you can’t really do much except for sit indoors and watch it pour outside.

But once we stop getting emotional about the rain, we tend to get emotional about everything else. Screw valentines day and birthdays and 14th august. You want to see people be emotional in Karachi?

Come in the monsoon.

No more grey today, we gonna celebrate
You know Miss Sunshine,
She starts to paint a perfect picture of this river parade
And I know that I love the rain the most when it stops
Yeah, when it stops

And so it continues, everyday, more flooding and more inconvenience. Perhaps, if I was another person or in another place, I would complain, but I don’t have the heart to. Because its my last summer here as a permanent resident of this city, and soon ill be a visitor and perhaps my home will be elsewhere. And so, you just have to appreciate it, you have to smile.

And, trust me, its not hard.


Well, the dark waves, they start singing together
I can't believe this change in the weather
I start to hum a child's rhyme
And all these boats, they start rocking in time
And I love the rain the most when it stops
Yes, we love the rain the most when it stops
Yeah when it stops

All it takes is a drive down to sea view with the rain pelting on your window for the cheesy grin to make a come back. Open the windows, let your hands hit the cold air and feel the droplets fall on your fingers.

Sit next to your balcony with green tea and good music and watch the window fog up while the sun sets. Its almost like the sun takes longer to set when it rains, the unrelenting heat giving up too early and the last bits of pinkness just lingering for a while longer. Breathe in the air, the humid heavy air, the air that promises a newness that is unparalleled, a change that you aren’t ready for but you want all the same.

The summer is coming to an end
We ain't gonna let that slow us down one bit
Til that sunset will start to fade
They're gonna drag us screaming from these old riverbanks

Whisper the ‘i-love-yous’ and mean them, have the most honest conversations you’ve ever had, link your arms in someone else’s and sing old boy band tunes just for the hell of it. Go ahead, go and be nice with no ulterior motives, go give bear hugs to people who don’t deserve it, go forgive people that you had vowed to hate forever. Dance in the shower, talk to yourself when no ones around, cry silent tears in the middle of the night. Be happy, be sad, be whatever you want to be-

-today’s your day to throw off the hard persona and just be normal for a while.

We love the rain the most when it stops
We love the rain the most when it stops
Yeah, when it stops
Yeah, when it stops
Yeah, when it stops
When it stops, when it stops, when it stops...
Yeah, when it stops


It’s raining love, you can get away with it.

cool kids never had the time.

You know its been a good day when you cant remember where the time went. Suddenly, you look at the clock that hangs above your computer and realize that its almost six in the morning, and that you should probably be in bed if you want to see daylight the next day. So much worth writing about has happened, but I don’t want to, and I won’t- primarily because I can’t squeeze out words when they don’t exist in my head.

Things are back to normal in the weirdest of ways. ‘Normal’ of course implies a move back to the way things have been. ‘Normal’ however, doesn’t really mean a change towards the good, or an improvement in particular, but just an arrival into known territory. It might not be great, or incredibly desirable, but it is recognized.

And in that recognition I know how to behave and how to react. Where to smile and where to hurt and where to just shut myself away.

We had plans this summer, so many, mainly because it’s the last summer- the last time things are going to be the same before our lives are altered and the only permanence worth trusting will lie in the fact that things will be perpetually changing. But we haven’t done any of those things, we haven’t lived to the fullest, we haven’t made the most of every day.

But it’s ok, because being able to finally touch again after what seems like a decade of numbness is enough for now. I'm not happy, nor sad, im just comfortable.

In this moment and in this skin. In this time and in this place.

And perhaps that’s all we needed, the proof that what we could continue after things that caused us to come about in the first place had changed. We needed that faith in ourselves, that ability to believe that we were a little more than what we made ourselves out to be.
And it is in this truth, in the knowing that there is something worth leaving behind, that there is something that I will miss, that my contentment lies.

Because I can’t move on before resolving the past.

And I will change soon, I will leave and so will the rest of us and things will never be the same.

But we’ll know that there was a time where things weren’t easy but we knew how to deal with them because we were just so used to it by now.

And right now, at dawn, at the end of a day that’s just beginning-

-that’s enough.

For now.

Heaven forbid, I think I might just be smiling.

So completely high on cough medicine that its sad.

Dont ever smoke, it makes you sick and then you'll get delusional and then type out a blog post that is likely to match this one in its stupidity.

Orange juice and toothpaste? Never a good combination.

To bed I go.

Its getting better babe
Its getting better.

(Though by the looks of this fever and weird cough I might just die soon.

Ah, mere details.)

growth.

Ever been in some sort of in between phase?

I'm waiting for my disaster.

I'm waiting for the break down.

But it doesn’t come, the emotions never pile up high enough for them to come crashing down.

I just wait, impatiently.

I know its coming.

Odd numbness, with a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

This is new.

I hate it.

(im sorry.)

(I hate it when you do what feels right and it turns out to be catastrophically wrong.)

Let it rain for christs sake.

Let it rain on me.

(im as ready as i'll ever be.)

walking after you.

Don’t look at me, please, don’t stare the way you do, because im trying really hard not to meet your gaze and sooner or later ill run out of things to look at. Right now, im staring at my shoe’s like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, and lets face it love, you can see right through me. You always could, and probably always will be able to.

That must change pronto.

They say that you feel you’re most invisible when you’re surrounded by people, and today I finally understood what that meant. I know, im an ungrateful little bitch, but the thoughts in my mind have settled like stains on a pair of glasses, you just look through them, through the haze, to the picture that you’ve created yourself.

Why is it, that you never adore the people who adore you?
And why is it, that the people you adore never adore you back?

Darling, im not going through tonight again, frankly because I don’t have the strength, nor the will. You take me too close to the core, make me too fragile, and split me open before I can retaliate. I feel unseen, even though I crack all the jokes, make all the sarcastic comments and direct the ebb and flow of the conversation. I'm a poster version of an old movie, a wax doll of a famous person, a smiling figure that looks a bit like a girl that smiled like the sun once. Ive lost it, the charm that got people to look at me twice, i lost it without even wanting it back, or maybe, you took it away from me without me even noticing.

Don’t look at me, don’t read this, this is a weak moment, leave me alone.

This is terrible, I’ve forgotten what feeling like this is like. This, hollowness, this empty yearning for something, this craving for all the wrong things, all the incorrect answers, all the things that will make me tumble and fall and say things that I’ll regret later. Jesus Christ, seems like ive walked in a big circle and instead of actually reaching somewhere, ive just come back to where I started.

And its nobody’s fault but my own.

Stop living in the clouds girl, they are unsteady things, you’ll just fall through like you always have.

And I fell through today. I fell while laughing and singing along to Oasis, all the facades coming back slowly, all the robotic actions coming back like they had never left.

Writing this makes me hate myself.

Yay, self hatred is back.

Ugly.

Uglyhorribleperson.

Wellfuckingdone.

the view from the top.

4-57 in the morning
Plans were made, while four people lay in bed
Driving to the other side of town for company
Going crazy to 'Ari Ari' full with hand movements and shades.
Getting the weirdest looks from other cars when the catch me and you doing dance steps to 'Kajra re'. (Teray kaley kaley naina- bahahah)
Parking at a park, with aunties walking in shalloos, and two weird looking men singing 'aadat' really badly.
Mixing up 'Hill Park' and 'Hilal Park' for what seemed to be the millionth time.
Loosing a shoe, watching it tumble down the hill.
Tossing the other shoe with all my might after realizing that having only one of a pair is pretty damn useless.
Tip toeing back to the car.
Driving in circles, looking for food, our food.
Finding a dhaba, sipping tea from saucers, burning my fingers on paratha.
Being force fed omlette
Eating like kings and paying 74 ruppees for the whole meal.

A girl, three guys, and a morning out in the worlds best city.

P-e-r-f-e-c-t-i-o-n. 

add-ons.

So, theres a new blog in town.

http://www.pkblogs.com/linemaroing

At best, this is an experiment. Plan is to have something new up there everyday. And its only going to be one line long everytime. Lets see if it lasts.

I ask the fellow bloggers if I can quote you guys sometimes.. you know when you guys spit out your wisom :P. Credit will be given obviously, but I completely understand if you have an issue with it.

So well, here it goes.

way.

Oh dear you look so lost

I need music, the right song, the perfect fucking song for this moment. Its pre-planned, destined, fate kismet all that bullshit. There has to be, there is, there must there must.

Open Itunes, Click on Shuffle.

Simple Kind of Life
No Doubt

Not the song, but not a bad song either. I don’t know the words though, and that bugs me. The drums just started up, and my head moves without me noticing, my fingers typing with the beat, orange fingers, lit dimly by two candles and nothing else. Monitor’s blurry, the incense stick is making the pretties patterns, playing off and on the illuminated glass and then fading out eventually. The guitars strumming, acoustic, she sings ‘and all those simple things are simply too complicated for my life.’ Hah, that’s wisdom right there. That’s the thing, no one looks for wisdom in the right places anymore. Wisdom isn’t in dust covered book in the ‘reference’ section in libraries or in epic poetry. Wisdom is here, in song, and for some random reason in the voice of Gwen Stefani.

Song changes, mood changes.

Alone in Kyoto
Air

Has anyone heard this song? It so bare and stripped of any sort of anything that if songs wore clothes this would be stark naked. Its nothing, its three beats, a swelling sort of noise and a woman humming one noise repeatedly. There are no words, none at all, but for some reason there’s honesty. No airs of arrogance, no facades or frills, its just there, without reason or question or wanting of reply. You know those big shells you get? The ones that you can hear the ocean in? Well, if god was planning to give those a little makeover he should make you able to hear this song when you press the shell to your ear. This song reminds me of peace, and not of white doves and retro symbols, but of a purity that I don’t deserve, hell, that this world doesn’t deserve. We shouldn’t be allowed to listen to this song, we aren’t worth it. Its like how in sixth grade we played ‘boy germs’ and if any one touched a boy by mistake they would get it, and would run around passing it to all the girls, making us all cringe as the crazy contagious girl passed on her disease. Our disease, just like that one, is contagious, we’ll pass it on, mutate the clarity and haze it over with a dose of melancholy to boot.

Next Song.
Ah, Rap. Brother has been downloading music on my computer.

Wait
Ying Yang Twins.

Ew, this song is disgusting. And really creepy when your sitting in the dark.
Rap is really sexist.
Jesus Christ this sounds like RAPE.

Moving on

Wonderful Tonight
Eric Clapton

Memories. Childhood and belief and faith all mixed to make a cute fair kid with hair cascading down her back and a smile that was missing two teeth. She smiled anyway, no reason not to. She stared in front of the mirror and squinted her eyes in concentration. She took the hair band off the dresser and slid it over her hair, pushing it up a bit so that a little puffy part came out in the front. She grinned, mission accomplished, now back to trying to flush the spinach down the pot while her maid wasn’t watching. She looked at the door and saw her mom run to her room.

‘Its coming! Its coming!’

No more explanation needed, she clasped on to the hand her mother held out to her and ran to her parents room. She sat on the edge of the bed, right in front of the tv and started singing along. Her favorite song at that time, her moms too.

‘And then she asked me, do I look alright?
And I said my darling, you look wonderful tonight.’

And at that moment, at that moment with the white curtains that filtered through the whitest of light and the feel of the wooden side of the bed beneath her, she truly felt wonderful. There were no self esteem issues, or insecurities, she was too young to know imperfection. She didn’t realize it then, but it was perhaps in those moments that she too felt perfect, and maybe she was. She has changed so much since, god knows what she was when she started out. Back then, there were no what ifs or maybes or self hate or jealousy. Love was a song sung by a guy to a girl, and that’s just how straight forward it was.

The song ended long ago, ive gone through two since, but they were too insignificant to mention.

Next.

Smooth
Santana

Ah, how I adore this song. Love love love love. But then again, seeing that I havnt heard it in ages I guess I cant adore it that bloody much. But ah, the guitar speaks. You wont understand, but it does, that dude singing is just background noise. The guitar has its own story, its own story. Its had his heartbroken, its been there done that, its reached that level of hardness that you reach once you’ve gone through it and know that when it was good it was great, but when it was bad it was horrible. Its indifferent the guitar, it knows better, its tempted to let itself go, but it just wont, it just cant. I think everyone’s been there at some point, you don’t have to have been committed or in love to have your heart broken, hell, sometimes your heartbreaks when your brushing your teeth or blowing a bubble. Really, you don’t even notice most of the time.

Fast forward through all the trance, you cant really write to trance.

What’s my age again?
Blink 182

HAHAHHAA. This song, is awesome. This is a puberty song, when you head banged and sang really loudly with your windows down, your hands in the air, your hair flying everywhere.

fly me to the moon says:
my friends say i should act my age

(this is me randomly typing lyrics)

atrocious says:
yeah dude you really need to act your age
atrocious says:
some times you make too much of an effort not to

Woah. Food for thought. Eighteen. That’s a good age isn’t it? Life starts at eighteen doesn’t it? Legally you’re an adult but this is like official ‘party hard and fuck around’ time. Test your limits, try everything once, dance don’t walk, sing don’t speak, you can still get away with it.
Then, why the urge to be such a bloody aunty? Id like to think of myself as an old soul, but im just boring I think, and blah. Mature? Hah, try mundane.

Party pooper is the word I think.

Oddly short song, last one for the night ladies and gentlemen.

Trying
Lifehouse

I was never a big Lifehouse fan even back in the day when all the girls oo-ed and aa-ed over the lyrics and all the guys made mixed tapes for their ‘chicks’ to woo the girl and get to first base. Ive never been a girly girl. Actually, I guess im just a very unemotional one.
But this song, I fell in love with. He speaks to me, the singer. Heh, guess im still thirteen somewhere, somewhere beneath the air of pseudo intellectual superiority and arrogance. Guess there’s a little bit of ‘oo’ and ‘aa’ left in this senior citizen.
The songs is far from unique, just another soft rock type thing that has a catchy tune. But the lyrics, especially the first three lines get to me every time.


Could you let down your hair
And be transparent for a while
Just a little while?
To see if your human after all

Ok make that four. He’s talking to me, I could swear on it. Sorry Mr lifehouse man, I cant be transparent for anyone. Not you, not anyone. We had a funny conversation about friends today, and reached the conclusion that we had none. Ironic, twelve people who meet everyday and have known each other for years could sit together and say that they have no friends. Funny that they were right, all twelve of them, because truth be told, we’re all too selfish to ever go that extra mile for someone else.
Selfish, and scared.
Have I told you how scared I am? Because I am, so scared that if I make you real ill fall from grace in your eyes. And that’s not pretty, I rather stay the way I am in your head. Not perfect, no where near it, but love-able. And that, that ability for you to love me the way you see me now is something that im not ready to let go off now, or tomorrow or day after. I cant, sometimes that’s all that I have to cling on to.

The songs over, and even though the song hasn’t been found I think this post needs to end now. Its too long, I couldn’t be bothered to read it over and edit, so please excuse typo’s and the like. That, is ofcourse assuming that someone actually bothered to read all of this in the first place.

Ive been too honest with my words, that must stop.

I smile, peer my head out of the car window and look at the sweet parsi woman who was trying to help me out.

‘I know aunty, its just that the house numbers are in no proper order. I'm looking for 47, but they jump straight from 23 to 64.’

‘That’s because you’re on the wrong street, you need to go back to the main road and turn right instead of left.’

‘Oh, I didn’t realize. Thank you so much for your help.’

‘Its no problem, you just needed some direction(s) that’s all.’

:D

why blog about myself when i can blog about my useless friends?

they say things like this, thats why i love them.

" i wonder how cockroaches and lizards talk to eachother! i feel so bad for them..*proudly* but the cockroach in MY bathroom.. hes dam smart he knows im scared so whenever im on the pot he stays away from me "

Breathe darling,

everythings going to be ok.

I have this sudden urge to floss and play Ludo.

Oh well.

water over wine.

You know what sucks? Having a lot of shit going on in your life and having only yourself to blame for all of it.

You're pretty much stuck then.

Im pro at making easy things mindnumbingly difficult.

But more than that, my eyes were drawn to her perfect loveliness. I looked at her, a stranger, and every breath strained to force its way from my chest. A clamp like a tightening fist seized my heart. A voice in my blood said yes, yes yes … The ancient Sanskrit legends speak of a destined love, a karmic connection between souls that are fated to meet and collide and enrapture one another. The legends say that the loved one is instantly recognized because she’s loved in every gesture, every expression of thought, every movement, every sound, and every that prays in her eyes. The legends say that we know her by her wings- the wings that only we can see- and because wanting her kills every other desire of love.
The same legends also carry warnings that such fated love may, sometimes, be the possession and the obsession of one, and only one, of the two souls twinned by destiny. But wisdom, in one sense, is the opposite of love. Love survives in us precisely because it isn’t wise.

Sigh.

After reading this book I never want to write again.

Random Stranger Woman with upper lip hair – ‘So, whens your daughter leaving for university?’

The Father- ‘Oh, next month.’

Isnt next month a bit soon?

Faaaaaaaaaaack

I love how ive conveniently forgotten all about actually attending college.

Naheen Jana.

:S.

...

Its funny when you can see yourself fuck up magnificently but still be indifferent enough not to do anything about it. It’s like I can physically watch myself regret this all later and want to slap myself for being such an ass, but at the same time, im left feeling that maybe this was just the way things were going to end between the three of us.

Here’s hoping that I wake up tomorrow and am a better person.

Here’s knowing that it’s never going to happen.

BLEUGH

Everything hurts.

I hate being sick.

If I throw up once more im going to kill myself.

the reaction to the french victory.

meh = me :D


muzzamil says:
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

muzzamil says:
FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK

muzzamil says:
FUCKING SAD ASSS DAY

meh. says:
HOLY SHITTTTTTTTTTT

meh. says:
HOLY FUCKING SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

muzzamil says:
FUCK

meh. says:
FRANCE????????

meh. says:
MUZZZZZZZZZI

meh. says:
FOOTBALL IS CRAZY

meh. says:
I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE TOO MUCH TENSION

muzzamil says:
MAN

muzzamil says:

IM GOING FUCKING CRAZY

meh. says:
you know, french women dont shave their armpits

muzzamil says:
man fuck french women, FUCK FRANCE.

meh. says:
yes thats what im saying

meh. says:
atleast those guys are getting laid by hairy women tonight!

there is always a silver lining in everything :D.

nooooooo :(

Dont cry for me Argentina :''''''(


Damn those Natzi Bastards.

Im such a bad looser, tis pathetic. Blah, horrible depression.

And to think, I even wore light blue and everything ahahah.

Rooting for Portugal now. As long as Brazil and Germany dont win I will be content.

NAHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN.
 

:):):):)

sometimes, all you need and all you want is found in someone who wont tell you what to do and how to do it. all they do is listen.

and then they'll go and eat the remnants of a dead pigeon.

i heart my doggy.

Road trippin with my two favorite allies
Fully loaded we got snacks and supplies
Its time to leave this town
Its time to steal away
Lets go get lost
Anywhere in the u.s.a.
Lets go get lost
Lets go get lost

Never expect anything, because random bouts of happiness can just be so rewarding sometimes. Keep your mouth shut, keep the gaze low, look out the window instead of looking straight at the object of your affection. Let the scene play itself out without your interruption, let the song finish, let the moment pass fully before you start ruining it with your prose or your analysis. Enjoy it, without care or concern, no second thoughts, no second guessing. Jump, flitter, fly- do everything, conquer it all with a grin and a knowing smile. Sometimes it feels like you take all of me, but then I realize that ive taken all of you so long ago that its only fair. We take each other for granted, we expect too much, we are two incredibly sensitive emotionally charged lunatics when together.

But who cares, it can just be so bloody worth it sometimes.

cranberry juice.

‘What took you so long?’

‘Parents giving me shit again for never being home, which is ironic seeing that I haven’t left since last Saturday.’

‘Their getting senile I think.’

‘Haan, it’s the only explanation that makes sense.’


I'm trying to control myself
So please don't stand in my way
I've waited for the longest time
This is what I wanted in my way

‘You just wont understand.’

‘Explain it to me’

‘See, motor-lota. Its like a pun on motorrolla. It’s a mechanized hand held cleaning apparatus. Great for Pakistani’s going to college abroad.’

‘This is your big invention?’

‘Yup, toilet roll just doesn’t give you that clean fresh feeling man.’

Move over, move over
There's a climax coming in my way
Move over, move over
There's a climax coming in my way

‘Im telling you, that crow has a thing for you.’

‘Yeah, shitting on peoples heads. Great way to show some affection.’

‘Some people are in to that kind of stuff acha, don’t be judging things you cant understand.’

I don't like you, don't compromise
Shattered by your weakness
Shattered by your smile
And I'm not very fond of you, and your lies
Shattered by your weaknesses
Shattered by your smile

‘You try to put that ghamla on my head ONE MORE TIME and I swear to god I am going to use this fucking lighter to light your hairy ass on fire I PROMISE YOU.’

All the kids are going back to school
The summer's over it's the golden rule
And now I'm coming out to play
So please don't stand in my way
And all the things that seemed once to be
So important to me
Seem so trivial now that I can see

‘Dude, this is the truth. We need to get this over with because I couldn’t be fucked and you couldn’t be fucked, neither could the rest of the group. Basically, no one could be fucked. Know what that means?’

‘Yep. We be dying virgins.’

Move over, move over

‘What do you mean she has too many things on her plate right now? I'm not some bloody BUFFET DINNER MAN.’

There's a climax coming my way

‘motor-LOTA. Its like a normal LOTA but motorized.

When I make my millions and you come begging me for money than im going to remind you of your lack of faith in me.’

I don't like you, don't compromise
Shattered by your weakness
Shattered by your smile
And I'm not very fond of you, and your lies
Shattered by your weaknesses
Shattered by your smile

‘.. and like my caption can be. Hello Loto. Like Hello Moto.’

‘isnt it lotA? Loto doesn’t even MEAN anything.’

‘LACK OF FAITH LACK OF FAITH.’

Please don't stand in my way

:)

-

tracking treasure down.

tomorrow will be weird.

i can feel it from today.

*crosses fingers*

eek.

please dont let this be my downfall. oh please please please. it cant happen this way.

still got a smile on my face, its my saving grace.

All of the moments that already passed
We'll try to go back and make them last
All of the things we want each other to be
We never will be
And that's wonderful, and that's life
And that's you, baby
This is me, baby.

Stop. Look around.

Smile.

3-14 in the morning, and life is fucking fantastic for no real reason.

Ah i love happy me. So random yet so brilliant.

ZINDAGIIIIII IS GOOOOODDDD :D:D

I shall leave complaining till another day.

Yip yip yip yip yip yip yip yip yipp.

(I hate babies.)

(I want to write a describe-y type post right now, and the words are dying to come out. But screw it.)

White skirts caught on shiny metal hooks, plastic green pressing lightly on sun tan bronze, silence echoing through thoughts clouded over by joy.

Enough now.

Goodbye.

with ease

Halo.

Greetings.

Oi, we need to meet up tomorrow.

Then meet up we will.

What time do you wake up?

Around 11.

Arey wah. Ok then ill come straight from the doctors.

Sounds good.

And you need to take me for an eye check up

And to buy new glasses.

Alrighty.

Oh, and also you need to choose my college courses for me.

Yeah so get that big folder thing of yours we’ll figure it out.

Oh and more thing.

Haan?

Its good to have you the backs man.

Oh shutup lesbo queen.

Young and sweet only seventeeeeeeeeeeeeeen. :D

Will you come for lunch?

No no ive given up on food.

Ok we’ll breathe together then.

Chew on air baby

Freak

Lunatic

Acha i'm going now. So many men so little time.

*snort*

You don’t ever tell me the fuck ok. I have many boys.

Your brother doesn’t count love.

Shutup. Ok yes so i'm off to watch the match.

Till tomorrow then?

Tomorrow it is.

Khuadafiz Kulsoom (not her name)

Shabakhair Sherbano (not mine either)

How I adore best friends:)

Some-day
When im awfully low
And the world is cold
I will feel a glow
Just thinking offfff

You.

And the way you look

Tonight:)

I love how I make you laugh and you make me feel funny.
Perspective is an odd thing, its weird when you realize just how much energy youve been spending on people that are almost so imaginery that when you reach out to touch them it feels like your fingers are touching whirls of rippling smoke and nothing else.

Lesson of the day- Prioritize. Stop wasting time with people who arnt worth it. Stop forcing your heart to attach itself with idiots that really couldnt care less about you.

Im tired of your moodswings.

Its just too bloody volatile.

-

I

CANNOT
TOLERATE
THIS
FUCKING

HEAT.


(great tan though but that’s besides the point.)

.. all around.

this post was written about two hours after the last one.

Insomniacs united on msn to realize that all of them were bored to death and were contemplating suicide. He was all out of hash, she was all out of fresh ideas and the third was simply dying of starvation. And we sat, each one of us moping about our houses at 5 something in the morning.

Wait hold on.

Its sunrise
You have a car
I have money
We have the time

Halwa Puuree?

Heh, why the fuck not.

Sweaty cheeks, oily hands, wet chairs. A beach, a white car that refused to start- all culminating in a hunt and future celebration. A hasty combination of a shalwar and t-shirt, a pink nightsuit, a pair of shorts and an undershirt. Loud music, the windows down, the sun far far awar. Cloudy mornings, windy beginnings and heat ignored through sunglasses. Theres always a first time for everything, but this wasnt that time. We got our shit, we wondered at Karachis sheer beauty, we got into a mindless arguement about Phase 4 and wether it was worth the drive. We laughed, we scolded, we realized we should do this more often.

7-55 in the godforsaken morning. God knows when im going to wake up.

7-55 in the godforsaken morning. God knows when ive felt more content.

poster girl with no poster

Excuse me please, one more drink
Could you make it strong, coz I don’t need to think
She
Broke my heart
My grace is gone
Another drink and ill move on.

He sings it like he means it, and with music that’s all that really matters. Your words could claim pain, but does your voice quiver with every syllable murmured?

Are you alive or in a blissful auto-pilot mode?

I want to write, I want to spit it out on words with ease. That’s the word. Ease. It should come out naturally, with fluidity and calm that is unparalleled. But it doesn’t. Ive had the hiccups for two days now, nothing works. They laugh and say people are missing me or perhaps I miss myself.

Ive changed. I don’t know why now or for what reason.

I'm not same person I was two weeks ago.

Here I go again, over analyzing everything beyond belief. I want a simple life, and ive got it, and yet in that simplicity im tearing up white cloth to scrutinize loose threads and questioning the reddest of the red chrysanthemum that lies loosely on my keyboard.

How in gods name, do you shut all the voices in your head, and just live?

Without care and concern and second guessing?

Ease? Anyone?

My mind is melting.

backward

Step back. One two- three steps. Eyes blurry? Focus. Whip the hair out of your eyes, breathe in.

Can you hear them? Can you hear them scream? Can you hear them cry and complain and be so ruthlessly unhappy that it almost seems vain? Locked up in rooms, tantrums in the kitchen, closed inside, but their madness visible to all. See the transparency? Its so clear if you just look properly. Can you see the tear drop that didn’t fall due to a final effort at self restraint, did you hear the heart beat when they dispersed? Did you see the blood pump through their veins when it was so obvious that they were hurt but too indifferent to say it loud?

No?

Four, five six- seven?

Clearer?

Its hard for us beginners, because we cant think without emotion- so very objectively. Try, do you see the insignificance in all of it? The pettiness, so small they look when put all together. And each one, with their own woes, their own problems, their own ideas of what defines happiness and melancholy. So silly, hah, so silly they all look. Little stupid people who know that no matter what they do they will come alone and go alone, but still, they try so hard to intertwine. So hard that its almost pitiful they just go charging like bulls, almost always falling and hurting themselves in the process. Just to complete that search, that hope, that sliver of possibility that two of them placed together could conquer all, solve all their little little issues with togetherness.

You must be joking.

Throw it all in a box, put on your reading glasses, peer down.

Is this your life?

Can you, for a moment, clamber and crawl till you’ve cut your fingers and somehow get out for a moment and look inward?

Quite a shock to see how inconsequential it all is.

It doesn’t matter, we don’t matter.

Spell it out.

N-o-t-h-i-n-g makes a fucking difference.

grr

*pat pat*

im going to be fine.

*looks around for Xena warrior princess type personality that she can borrow for a while to be her own*

time for some ass kicking.

undefined = infinity.

Madhosh hoon
Gum hoon Kahee.
Aao Yahaan,
Yunhi Kabhee.

Bichar Kai Bhee
Call

I have no words left, so i guess ill just steal someone elses.

what the hell is going on?

:)

You know it was a good party when you cant rememeber how many people you danced with, how many shots you downed, how many completely absurd conversations you had and how in gods name you managed to lock up the house and shut all the lights.

One broken shoe, two broken hearts, three million moments of sheer joy:)

I tell you, if people just danced more often we might have a shot at world peace.

The picture looks like an add for the damn shoe company, but i still cant believe i managed to walk in those things, thus they are worthy of a little lift heh.

And, as a LOVELY afterthought, I am greatly thankful to whoevers up there for not making my parents realize that I got home at four am (thus my curfew was broken by faaaaaar.) And also, thankyou to KILLER MR DRIVER MAN for not telling the parents that i smoke/was sloshed and also for staying so late. This goes for Mr Guard man who SO knew what was going on seeing that I was rendered incapable of opening the front door and needed F to actually do it for me.

Yes so YAY for those two and YAY for stupid parents, you guys are champ.

:D

rain drop blue.

..and sometimes I feel like im so completely in love with you that it physically hurts. And in those few moments, when I allow myself to be a fool and an immature little girl I play with ideas and thoughts and juggle around conversations and smiles. And in that moment, I feel so completely whole and taken care off and needed, like ill always be ok as long as your around. And understood, not fully, but enough for it to be worth recognizing.

..and then rationality and common sense comes back and ruins everything.

..and so you shake your head, smile your wry smile and plunge back into what you’ve begun to recognize as your life.

..and you already feel like you’ve lost something you never really had to begin with.


(this is what reading Kartography at 4-50 in the morning does to you.)

amsterdam

I don’t know where this post is going to. I know and am fully aware of my happy happy mental state right now, but with the smoke comes temporary happiness that is empty at best. But hey, somethings always better than nothing right?

Theres an empty bowl of cereal sitting next to me, diet thank heavens is going blissfully. However the exercise part is well- non existent. Even though I promise myself everyday, my ass is just not willing to get itself in motion. I'm figuring let me atleast start loosing weight then ill get happy then perhaps spiral type scene and I start working out even?

Am I rambling?

Indeed I am.

The best friend told me today that im getting really edgy and restless. Now this scares me, because the best friend and me have a great understanding about only sitting down and having ‘the talk’ with each other if its really bad. Thus, we never fight or get serious, and it works out great because we have easy tension free best friend-ship. So now, when we are randomly sitting there and im half asleep she mentions this startling piece of information and im like wait nigga it must be bad otherwise she wouldn’t bother.

SO, moral of les story is that I need to find something to do. We discussed everything from interships to prostitution, and I had a problem with every bloody option. For example, interships require me waking up at 9 in the morning, and lets just say that well *blush* I wake up later than that. And well prostitution? Yeah im guessing the issue with that ones kind off obvious.

Khair, so anyway the disco has been deemed officially useless. And I agree, like today I woke up at around one, sat around for fifteen minutes, messaged E saying-

‘Dude, I woke up at one but theres nothing to do so im going back to sleep. Is that normal?’

And then I slept for a couple more hours till I was actually so completely awake that I was making imaginary circles with my toes under my blanket.

Moral of the story- I need something to bloody well do.

Do not tell me to go the gym. I will murder you- slowly and painfully.


But when I close my eyes I can only see miles of headlights, flashing out the distance.

lies.

I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you.

heh.

And you smile through all your days….


…and laugh through all your nights.

:)

retch

Come on now, sugar,
Bring it on, bring it on, yeah.
Just remember me when you're good to go
Come on now, honey,
Bring it on, bring it on, yeah.
Just remember me when.

Ok, im officially feeling physically sick.

This is what to you do to me.

:)

‘Sing it loud and clear.

I’ll always be waiting for you.

Yeah, I’ll always be waiting for you.’


Fuck the adjectives and the long drawn out sentences. Screw the verbs and the actions and the emphasis. Forget it all, throw it all away somewhere so that you can never get them back. Sometimes, sometimes you don’t need paragraphs and long pages of description. Sometimes, its just so clear that it almost gives you a headache.

I love my fucking friends.

Enough said.

and just when it starts becoming real....

.... it just becomes really lame.

in search of-

newness.

of cubes.

The entire house is dark; if I wasn’t so indifferent I would be scared. Ive shut the lights in my room so everyone thinks im asleep, the atmosphere is off heavy incense and cold air that cuts through your clothes and makes your toes numb. Wiggle your left toes, wiggle your right, take a swig of water and exhale out a drag that you’ve held in for far too long .

He sits in a little pink car and races about town, getting to destinations, racing against deadlines and time constraints. I could never do it, that lack of freedom that inability to stop and see and feel and remember. Remembering is a funny thing, so many people, so many faces, if only you could rate memories you know- like your top five happiest moments and then conveniently forget all the other ones. Its useless floating around the past, because knowing me im still going to be gasping for breath and searching for someone to throw me one of those circular float things. Things change, people change, but memories, they tend to look the same no matter which way you turn them or if you put them in black or white or in slow motion. And things that you thought you had forgotten about long ago, or at least not remembered daily creep up on you when you least expect it.

My hair falls limp, my eye liners smudged, I look sad but im not really. I know I wont sleep well tonight, but not because of people calling me or because im merely too stressed to sleep, but just because you were remembered today. And remembering you is well- quite a lot for a little girl to handle sometimes.

She sings in the background, she sings like no one else can. And she asks for words, for explanations and for a cementation of feeling. Tell me, tell me, what is it that you want from me? Ive given what I had and Ive buried the rest, don’t ask me to sit and dig it all up, my hands will get scratched and my body will burn in the unrelenting heat.

Eyes meet with eyes, and sometimes emotion meets with emotion. But till then, theres just a girl and what she says and what she thinks on this black screen. The girl with the limp hair, and the head phones placed over her ears, the glasses that are smudged slightly on the left, the mug of green tea with yellow flowers. Its just me, and what we used to be.

And somewhere, in that darkness that swallows everything, every little thing that ever meant something and for those piercing things that still do, theres a place for her to just be.

And in her place, she smiles, shrugs her shoulders and moves on.

Its in the moments really, that you really see lifetimes of sentiment, of those said goodbye to and those that still exist between the moments of defiance , vulnerability and out right lies.

What was that line again?

Good times.. they don’t last long. They linger.