Sometimes I miss staying up

trying to write. Stretching small feelings across big words like hanging an anorexic's bathrobe out to dry, nobody can tell. Maybe what really tells is that it was 

only 17 minutes spent together and you already know how loose I wrap dirty laundry around my tongue. Even my shoplifting history - which you will extrapolate into general kleptomania where people steal from people, and I will have allegedly procured your passport and STDs, because I had once said-

If the purse was a curse, you'd be coins for my loins.

I am thinking about how people hardly hear what you're saying but remember what they need to shove into undesirable orifices of verbal communication ( for I am not comfortable calling it conversation and no body should be). From big tits to small talk. And what ends up in

my purse is nothing but an imaginary passport. I wish it was at least mine but I guess I am going nowhere 

yet.

Shubho Bijoya!

I really truly hope things get better now. IT was an awfully depressing Pujo.

UPDATE! NEW MERCHANDISE THIS BIJOYA!

Read more about these here. Elaborate concept explanation along with prices and variations. Dont you like? This was also featured in the Indian Express, PUNENewsline Supplement on the 10th of September (On Shoshti, the first day of Pujo and ON MY MOM'S BiRTHDAY EEEEE :D)

Also finding it hard to believe how foolishly I lose the things that come as blessings. I hope to entertain them while they last, henceforth, if not hold on, because holding on isn't going to come easy here, of that I am sure. Baby steps. 

Look what i use my laptop for

http://mintpepperleper.tumblr.com/post/61010525186/selfie-self-clicked-with-the-phone-longing

Did I tell you

That NOW I have a new phone I can do this on? TOO? AFTER YEARS AND YEARS OF SAMSUNG GURU? HAPPY TEACHERS DAY!
I feel spoilt.

chekkitout

Follow me on Instagram. :D

Much is to be missed if you don't.

Like this.

Or This.

ALSO, HI

Why time is a great poet

Everything that happens seems like a metaphor and I have a cavity (this, now) in my wisdom tooth. My body language, as observed by a friend.

Neap tide but tide alright

Sleep's been kept at bay successfully for a night. Here's to baby steps towards my general manner of being. Ears buzzing with what might be the loud awareness of the universe within but I am pretty sure is only a terribly messed up ear condition, I can now safely say that the grief of many lifetimes has been replaced, uh okay perhaps just well overshadowed by the will to kill my illnesses. How about that :) 

  Also here is my favourite part of my room, and as you can see, I am now on instagram so follow me for updates on my life and work and views and textures and sights and shadows of some happenings. Shall add it to the sidebar soon! Eid ! Yay!

Invocation of dreams

A handbound and painted dream journal. Purple pyramid kyunki metaphysics curiosity overload happening. More handbound books coming through. Would you like one?

RAW ASS SHIT

So uhm what calms me down is folding paper. Trying to reach a degree of precision which would be impossible for me to attain in other areas of my life given the miserable loserish state my mind's been in lately. Given how worked up I have been about not working (on the things at hand which might just have slipped out of my hands I am notevengoddamedsure), I tried to calm myself and get some shit done at the same time so hence, books! Tiny ass books,coptic binding practice, made as gifts. Couple more coming up.

And letters I shall never send, but that's another story.

Eat Moss. Silently.

Handpainted notoriety. Something I made deviating a little from my Bollywood based project. Pasted on my wall. These could be converted into handmade magnets. Come onnn buy your magnet nowwww. OR stickers? Wait I'll soon post a compilation of available stickers, magnets and bookmarks.AND THEN maybe.

Wait, WHHAAAT you thought this blog was DYING? HELL NO even though I'm losing followers like that *snaps fingers* and even though I seem inactive as ever and my neck is going to be slit  open in a few days, I am FAAAIINNN, this page is alive, and we'll show you cool new stuff and share our little pointless realisations as soon as we can get done with the skyhigh pile of pending projects we are trying to juggle. We are me and my comatose brain. We are trying very hard to swallow our own bullshit and spit out the same with some added seasonings. Soon.

Promise.

The trick to being content might just be being contained
- complete, within yourself, unless the flow of self
is balanced by an inflow
that isn't
all bile
for smiles.

But yes, I flow.

If writing is like feeling yourself up for veins and 
Love, like feeling another up for the same, I am 

drunk with a nosebleed and cannot focus.

Lies.

Almost resonating, maybe not so much as verbs, but
A Proper Fucking Noun that gets me perched up on my nerves.

Bloodstone

I love this video and I will never lose it again. Ever.

Probably the first time (in a long time) that I've felt the strange desire to address something in words strung together in a way that spells my anxieties out pleasantly, if put to tune, or just speaks alright, speaks better than I can in what is the most abominable form of wrongly worded speech expressing nothing real, just nothing at all apart from completely irrelevant information regarding my last pint even though I dont even remember what I'm drinking really, and I dont know how to begin.

I cant decide what feels more helpless- the initial lack of things to say after I'd started being trained in visual communication, or the complete inability to switch to words now that I do have something to say.