Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from April, 2005

The alphabet man has come visiting

My neck is sprained.. and my colour test says that i need to relax.... i think there are lines on the screen that i can see except i am not sure if it is just something in my eye that is moving... am goin to sleep in a minute... not really... prb in the next half hour... and then i am going to hunt for cigg burns frm last nite cz if i remember i knw that i got quite a few..bt yea fun has its price...bt then again nothing comes for free...

WEll what do i have to write...? What is a writer after all...some one who pens down their thoughts on paper... that is all there is to the writer... he is nothing but a social commentator...

writer
n 1: writes (books or stories or articles or the like) professionally (for pay) [syn: author] 2: a person who is able to write and has written something

http://www.dcitionary.com/

The Temple Widow

A narrow dirt path, generously peppered with tiny pebbles, tiny miniatures of their gargantuan ancestors, leads to a bridge. It hangs, rickety and old. Old but not well used, old like abandoned and not frequently used. The bridge hangs low over a small stream that slowly gurgles past, happy unlike those that visit the place.

The bridge leads to a temple. It is not very big, only perhaps the size of a small hut and at the most the size of an average temple hall. The temple has no deity; the temple has no one corner that doesn’t look like the other. It is clean, well swept, and empty. It has no furniture, and excepting a series of well spaced out windows, the walls remains uninterrupted.
She stumbles in, the lady. She is not very tall; the ten foot door greets her mid way. Her face is a pale, marred with bruises and leaf cuts over her face that show like rain drops on the window of a moving vehicle. Her hair, a silvery black medley of fading youth is in disarray, playing house to numerous…

Mascarra clots

How annoying are mascarra clots on ur lashes?

well they are itchy, make ur lashes feel heavy, make you want to sleep, make u want to comb ur lashes, scratch ur lower lids in an effort to make everything allright. WHen by right what you ought to be doing is washing the damned thing OFF so that u knw, u feel like u have eyes again..that are functional. =)
In short, kutu eggs on lashes.

yuck *puke*

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOH TSUN ODIE MELANIE JANINE ODIE!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOH!!!!!!!!!!

Well, it mite be late according to ur time... it mite be late according to mine as well....but what's new there...well oldie....happy birthday again...may i remind you that i am the last one standing and i'm proud to say that i am the last one standing...and guess what.... u'd allready be two whole months into being twenty...yes that's what i said t-w-e-n-t-y ... by the time i turn into what u have become... eeew... bt wt the hell...u knw wt they say.....ur a now a young adult so behave responsibily.... ha ha ha i still have 2 mths....woooooooohhooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!

And still lost...

I thought that this was interesting.... what we all yearn for.... he he it's a not bad presentation/movie....

http://www.theinterviewwithgod.com/

Note: Why is that God only talks about us. I mean us as in us humans. Things are important only if we think that they are important, a tree is useless if it is not usefull for us. Doesn't mean that the tree just happened to stumble into becoming alive, unless it did. Anthropocentric.

And i thought this was hillarious...

At the top of this website is a prayer: "God, protect me from your followers." Well, needless to say, it doesn't work, thereby providing concrete proof that God doesn't exist and that prayer doesn't work. And those who have squeaked through the supernatural protective net have expressed psychosis, which proves that religion creates it.
Some of the nutty messages received include the following. I could provide the names of the people who sent them, but these comments are so generic and typical that the…

Where is God? What is God?

What is God? Where is God?

It's a question that one of my roomates asked me and to that i have this to say.

He does not exist.

She agress wit me and rationalizes, if he existed then there ought not be so much suffering in this world.

not necessarily, i say. Happiness is relative: a man from the hills who has been deprived of all the technology that we in the city posess pities us. They do not have the peace that i have at home.

What about the people in Somalia, she sayz.

well sure, they have enough reason to be unhappy. The have no food, they have nothing that we can see for them to be happy about. But if all ur life one of the only things that u felt, as a constant was hunger then how would u knw the difference. I gave her an example of a program i watched on discovery. Basically there was a woman stating, she did not want to leave her house or her home. Considering the government was relocating everyone, because her land was not meant to be fertile. And she says, i do not care if it i…

Mon Cherie

mmm... the bar can only be set that high, and as a person i can reach only that high... if i falter or if i fake it it would not be true to either myself or my person... but at the end of the day i am Sabitha. A character in a book called life, and when the day comes when this book is all that i am a part of, a character who is toyed with by a non-existential author, a play and its director i knw then that i will be very very very pissed off.... =) (tried to sound smart but not today)

........................................................................

It has come to my attention that i care entirely too much of what happens to you. When one day you fail, to be someone who amuses me so, makes me feel wretched, happy; makes me go through a rollercoaster of a ride everytime and everyday, I fear that i will die and live again. I do not use such words so often, but I fear any word I can use will not express, to the f…

What the hell are we?

Nuthin like the early morning bird squawk to make u wanna buy a gun and go on an excution mission of all the feathered creatures that u mite come across. SHUT UP! SHUT UP! Bloody Squawk-head!
In the 80s we had the Afros... we made fun of all our parents/uncles for running around in permed hair that was so large the face looked like a fullstop next to giant wheel, ha bt now we have the Nigga-Speak... running arnd heads in caps, sunglasses at night, bandannas, bandages and block pants..the lower it goes the cooler it is... but it won't slip off coz there's that belt holding it all together..ofcourse it hangs loose at the end as well, to tuck it in is too un-cool, too white-boy. Try explainin that to who ever it is that laughs at u.
Bitch fights in open air, the question of 'fake love'- was it true or not? Did u really really love me?? (batting eyelids)- or was it all just pretend because if it was pretend ur such a whore, i hate u forever and ever-
If it was that fake, ther…

JESU BA

JESU BA!

Gulitinous rice balls covered with generous amounts of grated coconut, thick kuay teow noodles in spicy soup, barbecued chicken and okra,cold coconut milk jelly. One wet, cold, muddy, shivering indian girl amongst the havoc raising, amazingly charged sharpshooting Burmese youngsters. WELCOME TO THE BURMESE WATER FESTIVAL! (where no one leaves dry or hungry!)

ha ha ha, that was as fun to write as it was to attend! So yea, the celebration placed on the last day of the Burmese New Year (which lasts 4 whole days)is absolutely AMAZING. Started as one of my housemates and I made our way to what appeared to be a crowd of strangers. Ha ha apparently, at this festival u dun have to knw someone to chuck water at them.

We were greeted by smiles and ppl holding mugs of water that was non-hesitantly chucked over bth of us while we still struggled to look for someone we knew. After being thoroughly drenched by the welcoming fire brigade, we found our two burmese housemates, ready to hug us,…

KISS the breath of the life that was =(

Sign...from discussing authorial criticism to 'showing my fee receipt' (which apparently warranted three calls in the first part of the day, freaked the shit outta me and when i actually made it there-)- i got there and they marvelled at the fact that she (the recepit person) had given me a blue slip as opposed to a white slip...photostated it and then sed i had a nice pic in the hostel card, handed it over to me...and i thought i was gonna be kicked outta the hostel for nt handing it in earlier...
and then walking back to class and laughing over Dr Andrew's witticism, and having one of the girls clarify- "when u say 'drawing out the author' u mean we can draw or write?"(Suet's smart comment: So dumb when u talk to her ur voice echoes in her head)...
thats life right...contradictions, the black the white, the omnipresent gray...the shades of life..shades of the rainbow...where is that pot of gold, mr leprichaun?

CINDERELLA

There once lived a young wommon named Cinderella, whose natural birthmother had died when Cinderella was but a child. A few years after, her father married a widow with two older daughters. Cinderella's mother-of-step treated her very cruelly, and her sisters -of-step made her work very hard, as if she were their own personal unpaid labourer.

One day an invitation arrived at their house. The prince was celebrating his exploitation of the disposessed and marginalized peasantry by throwing a fancy dress ball. Cinderella's sisters-of-step were very excited to be invited to the palace. They began to plan expensive clothes they would use to alter and enslave their natural body images to emulate an unrealistic standard of feminine beauty. (It was especially unrealistic in their case, as they were differently visaged enough to stop a clock.) Her mother-of-step also planned to go to the ball, so Cinderella was working harder than a dog(an appropriate if unfortunately speiciest metaphor…

Deuce

*************************************************************************************
A rose dreamed day and night about bees, but no bee ever landed on her petals.

The flower, however, continued to dream: during the long nights, she imagined a heaven full of bees who flew down to bestow fond kisses on her. By doing this, she was able to last until the next day, when she opened again to the light of the sun.

One night, the moon, who knew of the rose’s loneliness, asked, "Aren’t you tired of waiting?"

"Possibly, but I have to keep trying."

"Why?"

"Because if I don’t remain open, I will simply fade away."

At times, when loneliness seems to crush all beauty, the only way to resist is to remain open.

-Open to love
- By Paulo Coelho




THE SICK ROSE
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

- William Blake

Ten Cents- Cantaloupe.

Oi what's wrong with you?

Oi no, what the fuck is wrong with you?

So i ask you to come and you don't want to come because for once ur not given a fucking red carpet invitation... well i'm sorry but if ur thinking your still 'in' it, go ahead but note to yourself, you're not that in it. You are not the person that i knew, and i know that you can do so much better that what you are now. Why should i respect, acknowledge or be with a lesser than better version of yourself? Your not yourself, or your not the self that i knew you to be. I've seen you as a better person, I mean, since when did you get so self conceited, where the hell did that ego come from? There was a time when you sed you would give so much just so that you could keep all the friends that you make and all the ones that you made, and now you don't even care. I mean, i Understand people have their own growth patterns and perhaps your looking at something in such a different light that i don&#…

Maddening Thought Bolt Bombardment

missing u...missing u...missing u...missing u....missing u....my heart is so heavy...tears brewing under.... if u were here right now... i'd feel so much better...i can't forget...i hate myself right now... why does he always make me feel so ashamed? So sick of myself..how can he do that...why does he have the power to make me feel so shit... please come now coz i need someone like u more than ever... i'm never too big on admittin...bt yea i admit..i need u now...i'm scared of him..i'm tired of caring...uncaring...caring...being confused...why tie my legs and push me under water in that i manage to stay but afloat only a short while before i fall again into the water till i can't breathe ne more and then my heart feels heavy like it feels right now except then i feel more comforted because i will die shortly and now i knw that i will have to wake up tommorow to see the bloody sunshine again. I can cry unfair and i want to plead unfair i wanna see what's goi…

Lessons in Light

I never knew strength till yesterday happened. For what it's worth i've always thought that i am strong, physically....or atleast strong enough to keep myself safe... and yesterday's experience of trying to stop a friend if i may call him so, from being picked on or rather beaten up by his 'nemesis', made me realize that the last time i probably experieced the full force of someone's stregnth was prb the fights that i had with my brother so long ago.

I mean, i was there slightly tipsy or rather pretty tipsy and trying to hold him back to prevent him from kicking the dude, bt he could just push me aside, as though the weight i was putting on him was nothing. It scares me in an integral way because, well... this is when it hits me that perhaps i am in someway a liability to myself....i mean yes, there have been many a time when people have told me not to think i'm some sort of strong woman yadda yadda ya....bt i never listen to them because i have had no reaso…

Yes or for the lack there of of Yes

Theres no water...no shower...no daisy plant for someone else bought the plant with the flowers and i dunno which one is pink or orange...
watched spanglish... and i realized that perhaps i will have a problem with never gettin to be a mother ever...but shall wait fr that laproscopy... when i get it done...
Today is April Fool's Day... Prithvi dies/died allready...told puneet...that's what i meant in the first entry when i sed the world is full of fools... cz i'd just made Pithvi up..
Theres no beauty if there's no one to say there's beauty...

Apart frm all that Pumpkin ur pissing me off... why wld i bitch abt u when i'm on vacation...we had a mature convo where u told me what u wanted and i told u wht i or rather we wanted...doesn't mean it was a fite and i'm not like u, i dun bitch abt someone when i can say it to their face... u want ur space, take it... i'm nt one to complain when my expectations have been reduced... so stop bitching, the walls have…