you don't go anywhere, except ( Read more... )

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There is no where I could follow, where your words would have been but that they are not. I think, you are sparse in this white of space or dissolved in this black spill of ink. I think, I long for the sound of your thoughts, of how they are recreated in form, that I may move my skin over it and feel it seep into my pores, that I may sigh at the ( Read more... )

All over the floor, littered on the bed, tumbled on the corners, my weekends would sometimes take form. I have observed that to efficiently be in gear for the weekdays' crucial timelines of push and pull, the same particulars of care tendered to dashing for deadlines is exponentially as necessary for weekends. There was once long ago that I came ( Read more... )

Time rolls to a walk and advances in stride with me. I nod to it and tip my hat, and my smile starts as I tell it, "Fine weather we're having. Good day, good day ( Read more... )

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(excerpt, April 2007 ( Read more... )

This is today. Well some of it, anyways (otherwise spent as concentrated fun). The lil break of fuzz and snuzz, the lil bit that I would have named Marhla Singher (yes, that's it).

I seriously agree today, that I may be workaholic.


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It would truly feel like it takes me ages again before I could actually sit down and regroup. Most of the times, I could sense my own distraction. I am fine and then I am not likely myself. I am someone who is going by the flow of things, but I'm not really usually even there. It's not that I am in utter lack of mental stimulation, because the only ( Read more... )

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