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fodder

the pebbles you've arranged,
in the sand they're strange.
they speak to me like constellations,
as we lie here.

archives

  • April 2006
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  • June 2006
  • July 2006
  • August 2006
  • September 2006
  • October 2006
  • November 2006
  • December 2006
  • January 2007


    • Tuesday, October 24, 2006

    Midnight At The Oasis

    Do you really think by glorifying the present and putting my past down at the same time will not upset me in any way?

    If logic doesn't fail me, no one discards themselves between 10 minutes ago and this current point in time. So I don't see why you don't see I was the same person half a year, 3 months, 6 weeks, 5 hours or 2 seconds ago.

    There is something in all of us which gets pricked too easily sometimes and it's called P.R.I.D.E. Mine just said, "Ouch."

    "Thanks."

    "And fuckk YOU."

    ***

    I cannot stand/hate/loathe the feeling of having to search for money this way. I'm tired to the bones (I know you are too...) and it leaves me questioning once again.

    Most of the times, we just grit our teeth and go one, lying to ourselves with the psychotic chants, "You're made of steel. Do what you need to do.".

    Ignorant fools are the only ones who grimace.

    ***

    It's been 1 second since I last felt stupid/silly,
    3 minutes since I last yelled at someone,
    25 minutes since I last had anything to eat or drink.
    3 and a half hours since I felt threatened,
    11 hours since I had my part of my speech corrected,
    2 days since I last used conditioner on my hair,
    67 bucks since I last had it tinted,
    2 mascara wands since my last room clean-up,
    1.5 inches of excess flesh since my last attempt at talking myself out of buying a piece of garment,
    294 milliseconds since I last mused about you,
    0.6 seconds since I last caught the lyrics to a Cranberries song,
    3 friends' effort since I got talked out of it,
    1 of me to get me crawling back to it,
    6 hours and 38 minutes since I heard someone yakking away in foreign tongue,
    0.5 of a fortnight since I last felt the Monday blues,
    5/12 of a decade that I've indulged in a fantasy,

    and
    not a moment was caught in any of the above free of inadequacy.

    00:35

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