Certainly deciding what I don't want

They all blend in together and seem to rush in together, brick, orange and rain. While I walk on extremely tangible gray stones seen through coffee mixed with bitter orange juice in perfectly melody synched deserted towns and tying a gold amulet around my neck I can feel the mad, lingering, biting, plaguing powerful feeling of wanting to lay affect like rubbing round circles on the back of your palm and toeing the first hair on your leg. That gleam makes me surge like a sandy wave filter through my porous clothes leaving a tanned sinful good feeling about my body. The dead, the nude and the fillers in the frame seem to urge me to go on because sunset is not the place to keep feeling this. Till then, colorful little washed out jaded purple cloth pieces and rusty salty iron bangles keep me busy. Buy some paper and scratch flowery curves, paper thick yellow cloth and fold it quietly into the big cloth straw bag, brown and deep red. By night time freckles and red spots make me comfortable with the skin I wear and the balmy evening's oily nudging and the book under the armpit are both in rhyme with how I may feel the best about me. It is then and only there that you may access what I want to see, show. We all three should witness the spectacle together.

Let's fast forward it!

Yeah, long time.

Couple of days ago, we all came together. She said 'let's watch!' We all exclaimed 'film!' Now, you know whose Saari we are pulling :) So, she belted out one 'clean' film. The film was really interesting and she didn't quite mind the profanities in the dialogs. Then, suddenly, the hero and the heroine come together to do something that humankind aspires to achieve in every action: lurrv. The usual Hollywood style, passionate making out that lasts up to 33 seconds in 'clean' films. And then, as we didn't realize, a divine voice harked, " Please, fast forward it!" To all us reservoir dogs whose sixty percent public conversations rely upon sexual puns, innuendos and obscure dirty jokes varying in degrees of murkiness, this was 'clearly' the funniest eye brow raiser of the day! She can't take mass embarrassment, you see... Later of course, we "fast forwarded" thrice.
[Inside joke ( I'm prone to dirty thinking):
Dear husband to miss: I say, tonight is good! What you say?
Miss: (shy) hehehe
dear husband advances hand to the waist
Miss: Uh-huh. Let's fast forward it, shall we?]

This bears no resemblance to living characters around who in any case love taking offense.

{Fast forward to a few days later}
A certain girl-happy-in-love-my-guy-is-divine goes to watch an obviously 'romantic' film. Haw! It's in English and we all know how these white people start doing things in public theaters. My-guy-is-divine gets so angry, I tell you! He wants to get up and go. But, girl-happy... stops him and he sits through it. Mind you, only for her! Now he is so upset he won't talk to her for few days. Gosh these white people, they can break relationships! Fast forward, I say!
lawl, guffaw

Twelfth minute of a clueless birth

Trust me I'm depressed. Something terribly clinical about it. As it is five minutes more to go for my birthday, I cannot help crying. I miss my parents, not really. But I miss a point. I am missing something quite pointlessly. Then I look around and see the amount of people I have pushed away almost everybody. I give creepy hostile sad vibes. I sleep amongst the awake and I grunt amongst the cheerful. There is a point beyond which the body and mind feel short of control. It is automated. It's a clueless start to another year and the only thought coming to me is of being stuck in this same state of the heaviness of nothingness and listlessness and inability and forced half efforts. There has to be a way out. Someone needs helping. I can't even write. Probably I should wrap up the blog, wall in front of me.

My air is a peppered pineapple

I was zapping through all the million t.v channels and safety mails telling us what to do and what not during Swine flu attacks. Some place had termed H1N1 as the micro terrorist. This is not a new thought, mind you. It keeps recurring every time when something is transmitted through air, be it through satellite signal viruses or anthrax germs or influenza. I feel it is not our water or land but our air that is the most exploited. It is actually like that pineapple, cut and wedged by multiple radio waves being transmitted, all the wireless networks, the television signals, the different infrared and bluetooth devices, all the light that travels in the medium of air, all the sound, the cigarette smoke, the bacteria etc. So much of activity inhabits the invisible air that is scary to gulp and swallow one breath full of echoes and smells, shooting waves and germs. A huge pineapple container stuffed with mostly not seen to the naked eye matter. I feel sad. Like SpongeBob sitting on a bus stop waiting for the water around injected in blue, waiting for it to naturally flow like blue flamed slow sickness. My air is a peppered pineapple. Heigh-ho!

You start playing. Birds fly