20 rupees each

Each clicked the other.

WHAT

WHY THE FUCK WERE WE WATCHING THAT

I have a plan.

But.

While scheming this, I'm dreaming that
Still prancing in a yellow hat
Through fields of riled up lines of rain
This noon of glowing window pain.

note to self and those who need it

Nobody can be with me unless they've been through my misery and no one can be with you unless they've caused yours. But sometimes I wish we just ached right.

Some three years back

I was in what felt like prison. School work, No play, absolutely no time outside the house because my mother likes to have me around to shoot her bullets at, and I cursed and I swore and I stayed locked in my room recording whatever went on inside my head, puked it on paper or forced it down the throat of my cybertunnel. The faint light at the end of it being the day I'm released from that only escape to the world and unleash all that beauty onto the world while I'm taking it in (little did I know then of how little that would do for me).In the meantime, what helped me get a tighter, surer grip on my knees and a clearer vision of me stretching my limbs out as a woman once I made my way out of the cocoon was a little bit of Bukowski, and her:

http://writerigniter.wordpress.com/

I kept her a secret. You wouldn't find her linked on my blog, you wouldn't hear me going, hey did you read her last? And if you lived where I lived, you sure as hell wouldn't have stumbled upon her while you were busy listening to vH1 or reading the last book you heard of being made into a high budget movie. Because nofuckingONE deserved to be let into that part of the world, or let out to, cause whoever I was around wasn't worth it, not one of them. I felt selfish and I didn't give a shit.

It was a way of life and I didn't even realise that I have a life,that WAS some life- me, my bloody room and visions of sweaty workmen outside my window at summertime and other seemingly irrelevant things, my organs flowing right out of my fingers once I started feeling like her hair was my hair. I had been introduced to her when someone commented on one of my poems saying it has a similar tone to her writing, but after I read her I felt like it should've been an insult to her, really. I fought with my parents for the money to buy one of her books- things are expensive for us when they're measured in dollars and you're Indian and belong to my family and you aren't really employed to begin with, but now there's a give away. And I've never wanted anything this bad- that book, and her other books, except for maybe to let out my music but since that isn't happening, the book if it came to me would be the only thing that can get me out of this comatose state of MINDLESS EXISTENCE.

Last thing I said to myself which seemed to sound like me was- you can't write poetry when its kissing you in the neck, which may or may not be true but I'm not even sure of how I feel or what I believe anymore. Yes I wish to go into hibernation again with her book, and you would too if you read her. Go check her out and while you're at it, beg her to send the book my way.

One night with Vector

So last night when I couldn't sleep because of The Shining (for which I have taken up the Herculean task of making a title sequence for an assignment.cause hell, I'm just stupid and like to fuck myself over with imposifuckingble goals), I tried making some icons for my Mac but well they turned out too illustrative and, uh, nothing smart, as I went ahead with each. But well, here they are.

Maybe I'll continue some other insomnistic night. Insomnistic sounds like such a efgdfgfd word.

New art up on Tumblr and AAAAAAAA NH7 IS COMMMMINGGGG! WHO WANTS TO VISIT ME IN POONA AROUND THAT TIME? :D I'll pretend there's a crowd of 'ME!'s on my plate right now, be all yaw come on lets hav the funz but fuck how depressing is no readership. 

74.8

So Pink Floyd brought me a thought, because I'm listening to it while reading a random article, and it gets me in the zonosphere so.  Every time I'm reading anything and it has a numerical figure I get stuck on it for about 5 seconds trying to subconsciously memorise it, failing, so staying there until I realise I really don't need to, this isn't the night of cramming before a three a.m. breakdown followed by early morning panic attacks. What does this make me? A nervous Ex-Nerd with her brain up her large intestine?

ALSO, if you care to check the photoblog, a gorgeous Persian Bella is waiting to pounce on you.

What would your revelations post be about today?

Things Received - Behavioral patterns.

more on my photo blog later not now.

Lets Lick Through Kolkata - Work Update

One spread. And I'm dying.



And no. you can't steal, copy paste or your karmatic chain will strangle you.

Fuck you

I do not care about the goddammed lightsource.

I feel ancient

                             

























And I'm losing followers. Teardrop.

No, not here.

Ever get the feeling you're just on the wrong side of the window? The whole of the rest is yours but that's because you're locked out of what was to be your haven. That feeling, you know.

The stye is no ordinary stye

If I were a Self Portrait,
with a stye along my glare.

Its not like I don't remember how to think anymore, I just don't remember to remember what I think and am incapable of recording it now. I sit blue throated surrounded by blueteeth.
How do you even say that really. Bluetooths?

I have a stye today.

Humphrey Bogart from last year

which ended up looking like a cross between him and dev anand or someone. I'm sick of grammar.
This was college work.

He said today is a big day, and then we fought again.

Today, I did a shoot.

Make up and styling: Komal.

Model: Simran.

^ I HATE that format. I don't like following protocol but I do.

Stupid lump of Stupid

I lost a few of my happymade sketches, and that makes me angry.
But what makes me so sick in the stomach that I could evaporate out of sheer sickinthestomachness, is that I've lost so many beautiful people to my stupidity that its coming down on me now like an ugly illconstructed building without the slightest movement in the tectonic plates. God. Oh godgod whatddoooidooooo.

The return of the sentence.

I think I'm just about regaining my ability to string a comprehensible sentence together without pausing to admire a tree, but the immaculacy of thought itself is far from being achieved. There's still a passive film of mist all over the insides, and no nosy, toothy, bristly instrument can help clear it, but I'm sure shaking it off will gradually get easier now that I've identified acknowledged it as alien.
But once that's off, I'm gonna need some sunshine and some reli spray for the back.Which is fine, reminds me I've still got a spine.

Priyanka

doo dull

Maybe some colour?

What happens when June is just a metaphor?

And now when the rain comes, we can be faithful.

June is just a metaphor with your leg around his neck,sharing his
hollows. It is a month of smooth, raw death but June is
just a poetic element that is a cave. Its a place where the
lines of the song play


when they get back, the rolling stops;
there's no one to stay with


in your head.Your Rooms collide- what happens when


we're like the nudists, the nudist of all


being June- nothing's bare.You touch it when it falls like
a dream around your hair-the dead that never saved you from
rain.Its a month of finding yourself in the puddles, but




June is just a metaphor which spells listen to me, wears a
spacesuit like it could float away to eclipse for real.Like
it could stick its head into the fridge and change
its name without getting soaked till the knee.Like the storm
that threatens to stop the music but doesn't; the calm- 


it is that month.But June is just a metaphor,on a torn
piece of soul with the only blooming hollows, lying 
facedown; on your cheek; inbetween your finger-joints 
when you can't write it down. June remains
a metaphor while love comes to you through T9 as
a typographic error.

painting on scrap paper (hence the creases)

Grey mountain, Blue love

Alone is the only answer. When the mornings are beautiful, it isn't too hard to breathe.

FUCK YEAH?

Fuck no, I have not the slightest clue what my head was doing when I made this.Funny thing is, I started off trying to draw a friend's Facebook DP and it wound up this way (nothing like the dp minus the glasses mind you; and the hair maybe) . I'm not even sure if it is apparently offensive, that's how clueless I am.

Still very far away and inaccessible

HAHAHANCOCK
What does it feel like to be the first person to be thought of, to be cast in a dream, to be set apart for this completely bewildering .. force, is the only word that fits. I get HD tv and tell you a joke about it in my head and I'm really, really funny. How is it that there is not ONE person who finds the same things funny as me.Something is wrong with me lately.Also I just couldn't care less about incoherence.

I DONT HAVE A WAY WITH WORDS ANYMORE

BUT I HAVE A SHOVEL, OR CLAWS, SOMETIMES I CAN'T TELL ANYMORE.
IF NOT A PATH,I SAID, I WILL DIG MYSELF A BURROW.OR SOMETHING.IF I END UP CRAWLING BACK IN TIME, I THINK I'LL FIND MYSELF AS AN EGYPTIAN
PRINCESS, YOU KNOW. TO BE SEXUAL IS NOT TO BE ON THE PROWL OR IN THE
MARKET,

YOU KNOW. I MIGHT BE A COMMODITY AT A HANDLOOM EXPO OR SOMETHING,
YOU KNOW,GETTING LIKE SHOPLIFTED BY A GIRL IN HUGE ROUND GLASSES.
I NEED TO STOP DOING WHAT MAKES ME THINK MIGHT BE
DOING WRONG TO MYSELF AS THE RECEIVER CAUSE IF I'M REALLY CLAWING THAT
HARD, YOU SAY, WORMHOLES APPEAR, TIME TRAVELS,  AND I MAY BE THE SHOE,
NEXT MORNING. WHERE IS THIS GOING.

WHY DOES IT ALWAYS END IN EUPHEMISMS
FOR WHERE IS THIS GOING
(BEING BLATANT FOR THE FIRST TIME
IN A MILLION WORMHOLES)
BECAUSE ITS TOO DARK IN THE BURROWS, AND I REALLY
CAN'T TELL.

PLANKTON

is my new favourite word. Reached home last evening to fall asleep for more than 12 hours after an hourlong rant about how ugly I am (which is so ugly, that my mom would rather look at Radhika on Zee TV).

Tell me, would you be more disgusted if you saw me lick the rim of a glass after taking a sip- would you rather I let you encounter a drool-thread because I didn't take necessary precautions because they don't tally with your set of etiquettes? Honestly, if there's bad happening, maybe, just MAYBE its because you've just been salvaged from worse.Especially if I'm involved, just nothing is bad enough to be the worst that can come,kids.

A dick, however, would be it.

What is happening in my life?

EXACTLY. that face.

NEWWORKTHING

Using Adobe Illustrator for the first time:

   

DO NOT STEAL. made this one delirious insomniastic night. you lick?

Stapletooth.

The moment you start feeling in control, you start feeling better.
Also, if you remember this principle applies to everyone,
you'll know how to start being in control.

Also if you don't care about either, doesn't stop you from blogging about it. 

livebrush when bored

Eyespice

Edited version of what I did for a class assignment last semester.

If I ever write a book called Collarbones, this will be the cover.

And I will link to reference image (which was something beautiful from deviant art), the minute I find it. 

Thanks BROTHAZ.

And I'm least myself with you. You're sitting next to me, and there's more fire when I lean my head on the bean bag. At least I'm not looking for bear suits anymore. At least in my head, there's a rectangle that moves with my head in which the sky is shifting shape ever so slightly. So its not so bad.

Not so bad.

I really don't know why I'm doing this.

Maybe this will change soon. But for now, here's the pretend jungle.
I want to keep the background AND make the sidebar readable and I'm not sure at all about how to do it. Imagine me with my head on fire arms flailing trying to swim in an ocean of dragon pus. THAT'S how it makes me feel.


EDIT:  WOOHOOOOO I'VE DONE IT well its better than how it was last so, hello, welcome, I hope you're comfortable. I'm going to make this a very happy place. I'm going to make it bracelets out of stolen beads and stainless steel nuts. Its going to be fun, I promise. I will even pour you some banana milkshake at  regular intervals if you stay, tempting HUH HUH 

When alone is hip, I'm hot.

Here's a secret, sometimes, I'm a terrific dancer, and I'm just so glad you all are too nice to contradict that even if you wanted to (in which case, by the way, you just haven't seen me dance for real, bro) and the first song I really felt connected to in terms of dance, despite my years of training in classical bharatnatyam etc (no, I'm not making this up) wasssssssssss

ANGEL, BY LIONEL RICHIE. So everytime I have my wine and my empty room, I somehow seem to go back to it, and I'm happier than I can ever remember being and isn't that just a beautiful feeling :)

Birds and people and Birds and me.

Its this very heavy feeling of restlessness washing over me every now and then. How restlessness can feel heavy or wash over anything is beyond me but yes, its happening, and its not been pleasant. I've been feeling weird about myself, about having a thousand blogs and letting each one die, about the spectacle that's rendered me blind ( my spectacles disappeared from my room without a fucking sign) and there's just this sense of unease which I can't seem to snap out of. I got a second piercing on my left ear (randomly, on impulse) and for a while it seemed like its going to be fine but smothering affection has literally fucked me in the ear. How do you blame anyone for that kind of a thing. I don't know. I dont quite love the pictures but I wanted to put stuff up here so that. Throw me a shovel and I'll dig my own bones.

I don't know why I said that.

Sunday

Ridiculous one at that. Woke up at 7 in the morning as if to start digging organs, the bones disappearing to make way.Wash clothes,wash the money in the pockets, wash the shopping lists, wash the tobacco.Put on my headphones and the song screamed, higher! Higher! I wanted to wear hunting boots and take off, travel guide left behind in the cocoon.I wanted to levitate, watch a movie, say- 'I'm going to tell you why and you will believe me'. Or juggle. Or build a living room full of wine, dancing, making love on the carpet. Or the couch. Or at the foot of the TV cabinet while the Sensex reaches its highpoint. Or throw myself at the black and white on the soft-board knowing that I am going to be closer than this.

But all I did was not get drunk or jump off a building onto a tampoline or fix the petrol issue.

But my hair, he said, was like his face was on fire.

Oh, that can't be a good thing.

Why not, he said, and that was that.

So, yes lets update this space.

I want to do crazy things to my blog but I've never been lazier.And I kinda like this lazy.I have realised that  the television is super important to keep me from stagnance, in the absence of its constant senseless buzzing in the background, I just cannot function as a proactive human being. Calm doesn't agree with my system unless I'm stoned out of my wits or something.Thankfully, I also stumbled upon a tv in the hostel basement where I dont have to fight off people or have them constantly change chanels, plus there's a huge platform at a safe distance from the tv where I can spread my shit around and work while the tv's in full blast, very neat arrangement that.I like saying tv a lot is why I keep bringing it up in conversation even when you're say talking about the super important presentation we must give in by tomorrow. Who cares when I can break into TV!

In other news, I have started drawing women again.
The weird part is, in all senses of the term. Ahem. But when have we ever minded attention?

I have So Much More to tell you.

Wake up to a morning full of the feeling of letting go. If it wasn't pleasant, you must've been indifferent but there's always that feeling in your stomach- of having missed breakfast again, a starving chuckle. Suddenly you start trying hard to get your punctuation right and you realise you've killed it in your head because it had too many groping hands.I have done this with a volcano on my face,feet webbed, the weight of an earthquake in my chest.But I have to tell you, this is not important.Your hands flow like slow motion autumn leaves and that solves everything.