Sunday, July 26, 2009

I think I am falling in love. Really.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Love.

O tower of light, sad beauty
that magnified necklaces and statues in the sea,
calcareous eye, insignia of the vast waters, cry
of the mourning petrel, tooth of the sea..
O separate rose
from the long stem of the trampled bush
that the depths, converted into archipelago,
O natural star, green diadem,
alone in your lonesome dynasty,
still unattainable, elusive, desolate
like one drop, like one grape, like the sea.
(Neruda)
.... *sigh*

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Hence..



This was taken by a friend. I think I'm looking like the author of this blog in this picture, and I generally do not look like this in person, really.




Friday, July 17, 2009

i had to tell him. You see, I had to, for I have started a new book and I am in a relationship and warm. I had to tell him because i couldn't have told him later and that was unfair on him and me. Anyways. It doesn't make much of a difference. But I'm really happy with the whole thing - that I could tell him that i had loved him and for quite some time.

He took it expectedly. So that made things happier. No problem. At all.

However, a fortnight after the incident, I feel like I am consciously trying to push him off my system.



I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decideto leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
rememberthat on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.........

- Pablo Neruda

P.S: It is sad. It is sadder than this. It is sadder than a train standing in the rain. I feel a little sorry for myself.