now

religion,faith are all just philosophy.
philosophy one incorporates, because one might not have the energy to make one's own.there's safety in numbers, and the texts and power structures are already in place. pick and choose the rituals or hell,be mercenary and follow them all.
.
.
when you're stuck accidently with devising your own philosophy though,...it's just too late to do anything else...
and then,well,you can stare at the others longingly from your perch midflight.because the references are lost on you.

i don't know if you will come.i don't know if i care really.

the fingers react to the stimuli spontaneously.my head is too tired to react.
i have learnt to stop.i have stopped being reactionary.
i seem to be able to make out where it is exactly i prostitute myself.
i look at people and flinch back,it is obvious,it is on the surface.the mystery is lost.

every day turns around with the same events.you start one way,I end another.
i leave you and take you back in, twice in the span of a single day.
maybe i open the door now to you just out curiosity...what will it be today,you monster?
are you in or are you out?or do you want to hide under my bed?
let's drink to this drunken haze.let the songs never end. you can base your interactions with me on the basis of where you score from.
let the peddlers be the dictators in your life then,you coward.
i'll reposition the lights.

from when

"
Friday,
February 03, 2006

the city again..
where are the people?
sitting in the recesses i keep jamming them into probably.
hari kunzru it was for the train...something abt the changing face,many skins...leap frogging years,...oddly familiar

there's another form under the blanket,thankfully this isn't my house...this is someone else's nightmare ..

how many times have I thought it was you finally.you.you from the open void.in flesh and blood. through all of my diaries...flashes of you ,speckles of blood on the walls after the onslaught,misting the mirrors,it was you ...you making me smile in the mornings,you i wanted to see ,a face to the thought in the sepia tinted jaundiced evenings,it was you i was screaming at on the terrace all those nights,to you i showed those words scrawled out in those endless pages...where are you then. ? . i don't have much else left. just this energy,this energy i have to travel miles to regain.this will to exist. survival taking precedence. again. you, disappearing from the face i thought you owned into the abyss of my memories and haunting me through the city.
you are.
but where?

"

Wednesday,
June 04,2008,

for the record,the person who this was written for came back from his explorations of the outer universe,2 years later.we go for long rides,have been unlearning together,have gotten drunk and silly.He gave and then gave some more.He got me a dog.
He came back.
and then?

this is stuff from some published writing from long ago.when things were stuck in a different set of words!

sunday,
may 21,2006.


today...

there's this feeling of utter freedom...
of endless possibility...
of never ending skies ,
of wide open plains....
of soft whispery sand...
of yielding grass,
of warm sunsets,
of undying love..
of peace
of un knit eyebrows ,
of loud laughter,
of sunlit spots in smoky wooden cabins on mountain sides..
of arms thrown wide to the wind...
of the wind blowing through my hair...
of me running and running and not getting tired....
of love,and fitting into another life form,
for it to exist to let me fit in..
this feeling of butterflies let loose over a sea of white daisies and a tungsten tinted overcast sky,the trees bluer,the grass greener...the sky purplish gray....
of horses and
water...

yum.