crap days

here i am sitting with dim lights on waiting for insanity to strike and give me a few words to write and i wait and nothing arrives but the pain of not having anything to write and spit out the shit in my head.

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soft lives

Soft lives Lost spent looking at windows and tables and empty spaces wondering something Or nothing

dreams for fools

I often see myself in a dirty room covered in dust and dirt and each corner darkened breeding mosquitoes clothes stacked wrapped sweating dirt in heaps an old wooden window on the other side painted dark green on the inside the only colour the room will ever see and a decorated table with a pen …

songs of something

Like everyone else I had a place to escape to dense lined with teak trees from the outside surrounded by yellow'd fields of mustard The place was as dark as night even during the day and had a strange empty feel to it unlike forests booming with life this was a place Quiet and off …

Stories from palm shores

a book, A pen Some paper , A silent night and winds bristling past trees leaves, soft whispers from which formed the only noise seemingly alive with not much to do and such an air of ease around that night I put my head by a window , the view from which I liked -- …

today.

the power of being acquainted to things relevant & happening the power of such things is immense a song on the radio, feelings ancient and yet alive today syncing with you in the most audacious ways making you feel like a king of the now.

the clouds thunder deep roars into the sun lit sky and i barge out of my darkly lit room expecting a darker sky but the sun shone brighter than usual and the thunder continued to roar i waited and it roared again and again almost crying out trying to tell me that it will rain …

sprint to the finish line

the compulsion to reach the end faster to hurry into finding meaning and jump to the last note without living simpler , finer notes is not uncommon and i am a victim of the same principle taught to children like me middle class excited hopeful joyous about a future that is never going to come

a lonely night in the gutter

I saw them working Day in day out travelling for three weeks in a month and coming back home with a smile and some food and I always looked forward to it And wondered how happy and how well they were doing in life and how great their life was and wished that I would …

Stop stop STOP! listen to me hear me residing silently within, outside, everywhere waiting to be grasped waiting to be ridden waiting to be, right here not disjoint not lying dead somewhere in the distant hear me as i whisper as i remind you everyday you skip everyday you forget to hold me and take …