Small ones.

You did not catch-
my eyes, burnt out
lamps- closing like a poem
saddened by love.

-

Plea
edges of these lips
fraying and weary- come by
to lend them pliancy.

4 MORE DAYS AND IT'LL BE A WEEK

so on the 18th of december when I WAS FEELING ALL CAPS i decided to write someshit everyday, something anything everyday, as journal entries. their shittyness, i tell you, is noteworthy but i DID MANAGE TO STICK TO IT FOR 3 HOLY DAYS *!*

so here are the thingies.

18th: decadencebegins here
19th: winterbegins here
20th: haha here.


i sorta love my wordpress at the moment xD so i think ill post everything there and post links here because all you bastards never check that blog anyway.

Plimsoll line

15/12/08,

9:16 PM

+

i will now write you a poem titled 'because',

a poem holding no reasons to negate.


-


what makes a cave is the wall drawings. what makes

an ocean is the borders, bord- oh no the lack of them. what

makes a bird is bones obsessed with emptiness

and elbowroom. what makes a cave is you standing outside, wondering

what it hides and pushing in an arm whispering you're

beautiful as you sense the dark (take it back

along with your arm).what makes an ocean salt water

and nothing more is the shark circling around a ship, thinking that the

ship is big enough for itself and it needs no more.


-


i will now stop pretending that i'm still going to

call this because.

-


what makes a ship is the plimsoll line (ignored)

what breaks a poem is the loose ends let loose.


+

And it breaks my Hea-aa-aa-aa-art.

I never loved nobody fully

Always one foot on the ground

And by protecting my heart truly

I got lost in the sounds...

And suppose I never ever met you
Suppose we never fell in love

Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft

Suppose I never ever saw you

Suppose we never ever called

Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall

All my friends say that of course its gonna get better
Gonna get better

Better

better

better

better

Better better better!!!

I hear in my mind

All these voices

I hear in my mind all these words

I hear in my mind

All this music

And it breaks my heart,It breaks my heart

Breaks my Heart Breaks my heart and it breaks my heart

And it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my heartAnd it breaks my hearAnd it breaks my heart

*

Regina Spector - Fidelity

go listen to the song. it made me draw this.please fullview the last ,whole picture and go listen go listen. i'll colour it later, this is just a tinted version. its for me i need to cheer me up.

and it breaks my hea-a-aa-a-aa-a-aa-a-aa-aaaaart.

ps:so in my mind i am always wearing allstars, am mostly flat chested, though i still have little hair.

-

EDIT EDIT EDIT:

here you go. SOMEWHAT coloured, i just dont have patience to do more right now.i will colour it in hand later LATER LATER LALALA

fullview if you please.

gravity eyelids

HAHA I LIKE CHARCOAL IT DE-DEPRESSES ME IN LESS THAN A MINUTE NO EXAGGERATION

i only used so much of it because i dont know how to use it well ihave twenty sticks lying aroundand dunno whattodowiththem.

and the title oh just because i waslistening to the song earlier today, er no, yday (since its way past midnight) and i cant think of titles anyway HAHAHA GOD THIS LOOKS

terrible on my laptop :X

looks better on my desktop.anyway, edited version:

also, i cant make paper lie FLAT in the scanner. :/

and yes i KNOW about the finger, just dont point it out. please. i just got too lazy to define it as bent. WHATEVARZ.

Off my journal 2

read here.

One of the people i wish i knew better

..just went and killed himself.

Him: Hey mate i need a big favour from you. i need you to search wikipedia for a list of psychoactive herbs and plants, right now. I know this is probably the worst way to begin a phone correspondence but i'll make it up to you someday. I dont know how, but i promise i will.

how'd you plan on doing that now, eh?
i dont know, mate.i could really use some help in maths right about now, yknow.and some weed, ganja baba, you. and our fathers happen to be colleagues too, cool eh? too bad i found out a lil too late.

To The People I Wish I Knew

Meet me at the outfall. Meet me near public toilets.

Meet me at the park hotel washroom,

barge in and say hello. Say- hello, I’m

not supposed to be here; and you'll be forgiven.

Say- hey! You look ugly but just a little and

that’s forgiven. You’re a fucked up kid even when you

smile at me and that’s forgiven. You eat up a piece of your day

everyday, do you want that forgiven? Ask me. Say, 

Hello! What were you thinking? The river always outfaces the ocean 

right before emptying itself into the latter, and the river is never a rapist, not even 

when it rushes- Meet me at the outfall as a river and be swift. Break

my stance on love affairs. To all the people that I’ve seen listening to 

their music with a smile, listening to their mother with a smile, looking at 

the world with a smile, looking their feet with

a smile looking at their feet whistling JESUS F. CHRIST DON’T WHISTLE.

Don’t whistle at the FEET- it makes ME feel worthless, and THAT is 

the red ribbon you cut at the entrance. Walk in, draw a chair, draw a 

breath and inhale my delusions of you. Bit by bit- not all at once like a 

shocking fall in the stock market, or the hair-fall issues making me bald 

and insecure, all at once. When you exhale, help me write a gist

of the mist that is your sadness, your pride, your disease. Make me sigh

and let it not return to me.

Today, I started writing you a poem and it read:

I wish you knew me and vice versa.

I wish you knew me and vice versa.

I wish you knew me and vice versa,

vice versa vice versa.

Today, I looked up the rules of writing to you-

spell out only synonyms of love, misspell them.

Never say fuck. Say 'this is not important',

mislead them. Work out your puzzles before

laying them out for others. Never make yourself the

subject, use vice versa vice versa

vice versa. And I swim through the dictionary looking

for words that don’t remind me of you. But I get

topsail, and I am Ship with mine pointing in your

direction. I get Macadamia, the nut of an Australian

tree that one of you is swallowing as I try

excreting your face out of my brain. I get quadriplegia

and I’ve already let it grow into me, settle in cozily,

helplessness et al. None of my other inconsistencies help me

get over this shizz so I give up trying to cover up, and

tell myself- well, this too is forgiven. Today, I hope to catch you

at that pathetic little corner of the street staring at

the madwoman like I do when my sighs return

to me. To you with eyes like anecdotes and antidotes

to reality, with the trench across your cheek changing

depth as you speak- meet me without your armors. Meet

me with your kitschy secrets. With your collarbones bare,

your shoulders just the way they are. Meet me near

the ruins and sit by me, wondering where we were

when it happened.

girl drawing

because i have exams and because i must study and not while away my time, its exactly what ve been doing (whiling away my time).

i also, dear peopleses, drew after the post-emptyfirsthalfofday nap. i drew my first face with a reference and i realised that i REALLY cannot shade lips.

:(
although i was an impatient little monkey- i just left out the hair and other bits incomplete

(Edit: i reuploaded the sketch, the hair has been roughly sketched). but then i coloured or as i would call it, fucked it up totally, in photoshop. so well.

the sketch: (edit)

photoshopped:

closeup:

(EDIT) photoshopped 2:

also, i hate my scanner. but atleast i have one so mkay no complaining.

now the thing is, i took the reference from this DEV ID of a deviant on dA, even though she had 92376497498237492798 stock photos in her gallery. and im not very sure if THAT was..er.. allowed :P so i just wont post it there for the time being.

oh be nice and say hello lurkers.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

i dreamt of you dying.they told me
love is dead so
i must bury you with it before you
metamorphose into ashes and nothing more, nothing

more.im picking words for love like you pick flowers
for the dead and and this is not my poem. if this is an almost madeup
poem, its not mine at all. this
is a postcard of bereavment to myself and each phrase is borrowed
like this sorrow i carry as my only child.

*

my skin feels like an essay on the Thar, palms like a madman's
prayer, limbs askew from the hunting of leeches,eyes swollen in
wait like the girls in my incomplete drawings,
incomplete because i fear if i carry on, they'll end up with a pool
before them and desert skin from too much semblance
to crazy, lonely postcard writers.my head feels like a snowball
and there seems to be a cardiac pause

whenever im trying to turn the commas in my heart into
semicolons- so that we are closely related independent
clauses and you can walk away but i'd still
mean something, though it never works
without the promise of a longer pause.

*

when i hear them saying Time makes love pass,
Time is nothing but sinister. but then they tell me
Time heals all wounds, and i try saying them together
and it only means wounds give you a reason to
return.

*

sometimes im shit scared of not getting
life's metaphors like the wind blowing sorrow
into my hair,sorrow thick and wild, failing to
get my heart back home.sometimes im shit
scared of what my mother might say next
and as she enters the room, she tells me that
it smells like

something just died.



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its just writing. seriously.