Ek Machhar...

I don't know where the fucker is hiding right now but I had to tell you that this is the first mosquito that has followed me into my slumber. And it upset a dream to the point that in my state of subconscious I was hurtling across a series of epiphanies to realize that one of the big barriers in my attaining my highest creative state so-to-speak is my father! Surprise!!!

He is also, now that I think about it, the sole trigger for any imagination in me in the first place, if one is to believe that poetry spurts from suppression.

The point of this post is I woke up at two in the morning and penned it all down. It got me to write. I thank the mosquito by slapping it dead on my diary's page. It has clearly left a mark.

Spring Cleaning

Every few days I take a spade, dig deep in my chest and throw everything out.
Dump the carcass of my emaciated feelings.

It will stop hurting if I do it more often.
Same goes for writing.

I want everything the world seemed to promise me when I was a little girl, and some more. 

Solitude

The lesser I associate with other people the lesser terrified I am of myself. 

Today has been a great day.

Hello there.
Today has been a great day.
It is because I feel so.
There is a sense of things coming together to fit snugly in the small dark corner of my head.
Would you believe just yesterday I was feeling menaced by monsters of the waning moon.
Would you believe, if I told you, I felt yesterday's desolation with the same earnestness that I feel today's wholeness.
Actually,I'm not really asking you. I'm telling you.
It is because I feel so.
I would not doubt the reality of either. Both are first hand experiences and thus legit.
That is a scary thought.
I view my see-sawing equilibrium with equal fascination and terror. Early signs of madness?
That is a fancy thought.
Out of the two I would like to root for today because it has more promise for tomorrow.
It is because I feel so.

I seek and seek all beautiful things in the hope to become one of them someday.
Now is that sad? Or beautiful.

What to Make of Parties

"Every gathering has its moment. As an adult, I distract myself by trying to identify it, dreading the inevitable downswing that is sure to follow. The guests will repeat themselves one too many times, or you'll run out of dope or liquor and realize that it was all you ever had in common. At that time though, I still believed that such a warm and heady feeling might last forever and that in embracing it fully, I might approximate the same wistful feelings adults found in their second round of drinks."