Saturday, May 28

Listening to Billie Holiday. Incredible sensation of being unwound. Don't do anything till you hear from me.
There is a simple reason behind all the acid throwing. Men, no matter who they are, arbid people on the roads with seemingly nothing to do, all of them, invariably think they are worthy.

Tuesday, May 24

Loyalty, unity, epitome, rigidity. The day looks long. I'm going back to hide under the covers. Don't tell anyone I'm here. You lose yourself, you reappear, you find you have nothing really left to fear. When a trembling, distant voice, unclear, startles you, somebody thinks they found the real you.
I know all about poison, I know all about fiery darts.

Monday, May 23

You will search babe , at any cost
But for how long babe, can you search for what's not lost?
-Bob D.
Standing next to me in this lonely crowd is a man who swears he's not to blame.
Misplaced affection, that's all.
Mayidoodle is like a raven on my windowsill.
I'm in the mood for:
leaving my home
the highway
making my final will
laying right down and dying
laughing till I cry
sleeping with my pony
doing nothing at all
flying like a cannon ball
backing up
running till I have to crawl
changing my room around
changing my town
changing the world

Sunday, May 22

He told me I only want him when I go cold. Sounds about right. Instant gratification, where would we be without it?
Storms somewhere.
The change was very important. I needed it for me. So I scrubbed off all traces till my skin was pink and raw. I couldn't describe the liberation, the sense of mobility and the relief. Besides the active fun quotient I am moody.

And wherever you might look tonight you might get a glimpse of me.

I can hear the turning of the key
I've been deceived by the clown inside of me
I thought that he was righteous but he's vain
Something's telling me I wear the ball and chain

My patron saint is fighting with a ghost
He's always off somewhere when I need him most
The Spanish moon is rising on the hill
But my heart is telling me I love you still

I come back to the town from the flaming moon
I see you in the streets, I begin to swoon
I love to see you dress before the mirror
Won't you let me in your room one time before I finally disappear

Everybody's wearing a disguise
To hide what they've got left behnd their eyes
But me, I can't cover what I am
Wherever the children go I'll follow them

I march in the parade of liberty
But as long as I love you I'm not free
How long must I suffer such abuse
Won't you let me see you smile one time before I set you loose

I've given up the game, I've got to leave
The pot of gold is only make believe
The treasure can't be found by men who search
Whose gods are dead and whose queens are in the church

We sat in an empty theater and we kissed
I asked you please to cross me off your list
My head tells me it's time to make a change
My heart tells me I love you and you're strange

One more time at midnight, near the wall
Take off your heavy make up and your shawl
Won't you descend from your throne, where you sit
Let me feel your love one more time before I abandon it.

I'm never ever going back there.

Tuesday, May 17

The sattaees saal ka gabru jawaan has taken to cooking for me. The cats are trying to teach us a dangerous sort of independence.
I'm wearing a nametag so that your friends can know that I'm only a visitor. I will be gone.

Sunday, May 15


I want to write about Maitreyi or Mayidoodle. All that I would say is that I haven't got anyone's silences this way since a time I thought I used to get certain other silences. I quite love her. Whatever she might say, she's so brave in being her. I probably haven't told her but when certain icky things happen she will feel bad for a week about what she did about it, but she will only do what she wanted to. I can't say that about myself. I've come to realise and appreciate this alot during the past one month. She's special and she's quiet about it. People of the world, get to know her, let her show herself to you.
Mayidoodle I trip through your wires : )
Now, picture it vicious.

Saturday, May 14

When Happy McDoodle tried to write HM found herself unable to do so. She drank alot of water, always kept a bottle by her side, listened to Joan Baez go on about some carpenter something, sat by the window for a bit. But she can't write anymore. Because we've all learnt that that's a stupid thing to do. We wrote, we wrote happily and freely, with hardly any restraint, we kept nothing for ourselves and got skullfucked in the process.
Are you challenging me to a duel, sir ?

Wednesday, May 11

Dreamt of phantom babies. This is the nightly routine, me staying awake at my pc waiting for M to come in through the window whenever she's done climbing, hunting. Stalking cockroaches more like.
Happy McDoodle kind of day. I'm glad it's surreal but it would be sweeter, less furry on the tongue, easier to bite if the colours you chose weren't acid. We don't do acid.
Took the personality test which told me I was neurotic, extroverted, slutty and prone to rage. Tell me something I didn't already know, bitch.
There's all sorts of junk that I have to move and sort, files on my pc, dealing with all kinds of tripe. If it weren't impossible I'd just burn it all. Instead I'll have to read it, suffer agonies realising that I wrote that, feel spastic and go to bed.
Bleeding Gums, your ideal sexual partner is a Type 5!

A type 5 match wants to experiment with different approaches and foreplay to help you reach a physical high. The sensations of sex are what this person most enjoys and focuses on- much more than the emotional bond you can forge during your most intimate moments.

But this person also shares a more personal side to them. They tend to keep their eagerness to find pleasure in sex behind closed doors and they don't flaunt their sexuality in public as much as you think.

Like you, sex is simply fun and expressive for this person. It doesn't carry alot of emotional weight. While a deeper connection could or could not happen for the both of you, it's simply not a focus when you're in the mood.

Alrighty then.

Freedom. Glorious freedom. In so many ways more than the obvious end of the academic year. I had an incredible birthday (thank you) where for the first time I didn't get to think about it beforehand, what with it coinciding with National Income Accounting (heaven forbid).
I'm free and I have nobody to spend my time with, nothing to do. It's the cat, the teevee and me.
I have won.