Saturday, November 27, 2010

Heels on Cobblestone

So imagine a person. This person wants another person. This person waits. Wishes that that person would come by. Wishes that person would love without inhibition. This person cannot stop the music. Thoughts would choke her. She's actually stone. Of course. Things like this are trivial.

Then that person comes. He says something, nothing really - and the walls come tumbling down. Such wretched emotions. Why do they plague us so? Why does he leave so soon?

Enough of the melodrama. Let's all get a grip shall we? It's not like, in the big scheme of things happening in the universe, little things make a difference. Do they? Let's just live in the past till the present starts to pick up. It's the best we can do. Don't let the walls go down.

Because the ones you want to stay usually don't. It's the bitter irony that has inspired many poems, novels, movies. Tragic romance.

A distant dance, moving slowly, holding quietly.

Maybe nothing makes sense now, but it will. The truth will out. But truth is precarious. Unbalanced.

Like heels on cobblestone roads.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Maple Syrup

Again. It just had to happen again and again and again. Fate is a cruel dealer. Actually I have not much to complain about... Putting things in perspective, I'm pretty lucky, truth be told. Parents who are well, food, money, friends. Yes, in that order. I need to straighten out my priorities.

I wanna run away. Abscond. I learned a new word today.

Becoming Insane is playing in the background. Apt. Very very apt. The total frivolity of life is not lost upon me, just like the ridiculousness of drowning a fish or making sense of ee cummings is not lost upon anyone (except my last English teacher). (He was all in a fit about the fish.)


I feel like a pancake. Being flipped over again and again, repeatedly until I'm just too darn fried. Or maybe like a frog jumping around trying to catch a fly but all of them are just too high up. Frustration mounts. The frog jumps off the wall of the well. The pancake resigns itself to its fate. Only maple syrup can save it now. Where is my maple syrup!

This is the most ridiculous rant of my life. There are some things in life I don't want to lose, and they happen to be at contradicting ends of a spectrum. Tomorrow will decide a lot of things. But you know, someone should publish a book, and call it What You Actually Want in Life. And it should be customized for every individual. And be written by God. But it was God who said go, go to Bombay. Fate is a bitch. A skank of the highest order, and then some. Someone make it all go away.

Make it be a dream.

Make it better.

Make it end.