Thursday, May 29, 2008

And this song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme....

This song whispers. And louder than the shadows, than the terrace, than the attic...


AMERICA

"Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together"
"I've got some real estate here in my bag"
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies
And we walked off to look for America
"Kathy," I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now"
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw
I've gone to look for America
Laughing on the bus
Playing games with the faces
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy
I said "Be careful his bowtie is really a camera"
"Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat"
"We smoked the last one an hour ago"
So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine
And the moon rose over an open field
"Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was sleeping
I'm empty and aching and I don't know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They've all gone to look for America
All gone to look for America
All gone to look for America

-S&G

Seven things to do before I die:

1. Have really really long lustrous hair.

2. Study quantum physics.

3. Learn to write well.

4. Learn to play the flute.

5. Find Home.

6. Have a best friend.

7. Be good looking.


And not necessarily in that order, please =)


Friday, May 23, 2008

There.

I am .effing.tired.
Of living in a house of shadows and this glumness is turning a permanent friend. My remote-control's probably going away, without a cell or a contact number, for three years, to study Physics in Indian Institute of Technology. We barely ever met or barely ever will, as it seems, so it hardly matters.
What, however, matters is: I am a friendless, foeless, rootless, remote-control-less moron. And I've always been, and I'll always be, and I'll always be living in my own lonely loops, watching life as it leaks down the hole in the roof, and while away hours writing morbid posts.

For that matter, I may screw the Physics Pracs tomorrow, and the Hons Theory hence and give the centre-shocks to a few professors with the most ridd-diculous notion on earth.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Endsems

Suddenly, I'm irreversibly depressed.
The days have shrunk to half. The nights barely exist.

Then, there's been a little too much going around off late so that I am a tad bit sad and sorry for myself.