Sunday, July 30, 2006

Debut(bark at the moon)-The Confessions

Stop in the jammed silences
flow and then stuck
where teardrops shatters and raindrops mingle
in the aquamarine ocean
of no remorse.
I float,a drifter.

Songs drift in with the heavy air
echoes of angst
hollow paintings unfinished and some
made uglier in their completion
and the sea sleeps
I still float,with a smile.

roundness of eyes,the moonglobes
shine on me
sarcasm is the wrecked boat
love the oars,carved and old
spinning wild are the whirlpools
the confessions-I drown.

welcome us.

Saturday, July 08, 2006


It's sometimes too difficult to try,you see.Too difficult to try to come out of the skin and be really good.And all the more stupid when you know that it's not working.No matter what I said,it was not enough.And I didn't say much for that matter.I wonder how much people can speak.About so many things under the sun.I simply tend to try and show that I am listening.And sometimes when they are talking about something I know,then I realise how little they know and how grand they make it appear.I nodded my head silently when the girl sitting next to me said "and what do you think about global poverty".I think she's pretty with all that make up and I think she just wants to involve me in the discussion.I try to smile and wanted to say "fuck it".Checked myself in time and just nodded my head saying "I don't think much of it".Silence...They all look at me trying to figure if I was just being insolent or a smart ass or I'm just too thickheaded to think.Whatever they thought but I heard someone say "you must participate,thats how we know each other".I don't know what to say and I just remain silent.It would've been more polite I reckon if i didn't look 'em in the eye.Someone fills in the awakward silence by saying something funny.They all laugh and the tension is eased.I wait for the break.

They all talk amongst each other over the coffee break while look out of the window at the cloud formation and at the tiny traffic line from the distance of the buildings height.They might be talking about global poverties or pollutions or bussiness takeovers or latest movies.Or maybe about the strange- young- bloke- out- there- who- seems- too- lost- in- his- own- world-whats-this-punk- doing- here-anyways?.I shrug and try to smile.A friendly smile.No one smiles back.

~end of story~