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.

Steps away from a heartbreak



If you see something as loving you, 

1.

Dont believe it. Grab at your misery and

your hair to curl up into a ball and stay

very still.talk to the next astrologer 

about the best time to start chanting the 

name of any everyday apocalypse to

2.

Glorify it. Get so bombed that you

rechristen yourself Hiroshima, wig in place

heart hidden beyond the mantle. Build 

your own new-age cyber pyramid & spend the

rest of your life's energy trying to

3.

Ignore it. Life goes on. Sits on a bench

and smokes, shags in its head and gets it

gooey as an excuse for not thinking straight. Life

also has a habit of lingering for which you must 

4.

Forgive it.another gust of wind

and its a different face, on a different

bench back at the end of the beat,  sounding

more like a pop each recurring time and 

It's saved itself a seat.At this point,
all you can do-

5.

Be hospitable and this will leave

too.

I'm exhausted.

Because loving people is tiresome when they’re so busy being rooted to humanity that they’re losing the essence of it.

Fuck! Get em bottles out and SMASH THEM ON MY HEAD!

CAUSE I WANNA FEEL FANCY AT THE BEGINNING OF 20 WITH

ELABORATE LURES, PRETEND 80s HAIRDOS,

WITH A THIRD EYE AND CHOKING,WITH 

MORE NOSTRILS MORE FLEGM MORE TEETH AND SYMMETRY

OR JUST BETTER OFF.

AUR PIMPAL BHI YAAR. 

The writing of a poem (IF you wish to write a poem)

go to your father, tell him this 
is painful, you should leave, we should stay 
in the Mississippi- the fish get tired quicker
elsewhere.Write a letter to your first grade 
teacher, say i lied, i really did 


Steal from the girl
with two ponies and i'm 
glad i did and then let you 


Teach me about god. Its greater without another 
syllable but goddammit that was grief,and i respect you 
for your innocence. Write to your teenage self 


Stop babies ahead but no don't 
fuck around.When you want to write a poem
become a month of harvest instead.Write to yourself
for every letterbox you fruitlessly dissected in your teens,
for how you reached only bones each time organs 
missing as blood or bile.become a month 


Of overflowing trashcans from the binge 
eating acne menstrual 
problems break ups. drink a solution 
of explosives and apple juice,every Eve learning to explode, buy her own food
or eat out of her ovaries. Dont make any make nothing
but excuses or someone believe.Write




To yourself your metaphors are too far out.Your
life is at the stake with that punctuation left to another's will,
you are a bad liar with weak lungs,quit.When they
don't get the game, you're a bad player so quit, light
a candle, write another shopping list or
a travel guide- exit the valley with
the toy soldiers,telescopes,the 




Moments before each plane crash on your mantle
think about each face of the dead that you remember- with

the warts,ones with the skydiving gelidity,

the frequents at the Mountain Bike Forums 

With the juts and gashes, write them epitaphs.In

some mention the faces you wish you could

have seen, their brothers,the wet

hair from the last time you remember(ed) 

Having seen them,pet your peeves

and apologise for the lack of italics they could
do nothing without the lumberjacks.When you 
want to write a poem learn ride a zebra instead.Hold 


Your love affairs and sweet talk, make a speech on the
dying breed of rare sheep, their scientific
name stuck around the edges of your teeth.Do anything but


This, because nothing is scarier, more
pathetic and discarded than 
the writing of a poem in reverse cause 
otherwise it would begin in the woods,breathe 
heavy for a while and then drop 


There on the knees with the stopped antique
watches buried at different points you would 


never arrive upon.

blogger has

something called 'Undelete this blog'  for deleted blogs.


WTF you cant even feel the triumph at killing something substantial on electronic medium anymore.