It has to be mom.
No one else can l...
You are leaving, you are gone for good.
You told your friends, you'd never come back here again.
What is your goal?
Remember: destroy thyself in achieving it.
Don't scare your soul, don't scream out loud.
This unfamiliar sofa is sooooo comfortable.
I worry people. Maybe I need a shrink after all?
I know I'm wrong. I must rest my eyes. Times like these make me forget composure. Make me forget who I am, who I want to be, what I want.
I can feel your body writhing in undescribable pain. Its never enough, is it?
'I' is nervous.
'I' bleeds through little holes.
'I' writes on the backs of important papers.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
It has to be mom.
Posted by Zh. at 4:54 PM
Monday, July 28, 2008
Each time, his beauty pierced me through with sadness.
Posted by Zh. at 9:16 AM
Sunday, July 27, 2008
I want to go back to an uncomplicated happy.
this is complicated.
Posted by Zh. at 10:49 PM
Saturday, July 26, 2008
I will always want the one guy who stands out like a thorn in the crowd.
Your typical shy introvert, who doesn't like to/doesn't know how to dance, who probably has some amazing superpower and is actually a lot of fun once you undo his strait jacket that society put on him.
True love will wait in haunted attics.
Posted by Zh. at 8:27 AM
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Why must we hurt the ones closest to us?
The terrifying truth that no one else really gives a fuck.
Posted by Zh. at 7:49 PM
drink the pain you can't kick away.
Posted by Zh. at 2:43 PM
Monday, July 21, 2008
This is good.
Constructive/destructive criticism is good.
Good for the mind, body and soul.
Now. Do I want to converse or go for a walk?
I mean of course there are many things to think about. And I've found out why I've stopped writing the way I used to. Everything is too boxed up. Pehle jo bhi tha, I was constantly surrounded by people, and their lives and hopes and dreams and inadequacies and all those sorts of things that you can steal and then write about. Sometimes they knew it was them, other times, not really.
And now that my writer's block has kicked in, I'm going to go devour ice cream.
Posted by Zh. at 5:02 AM
Monday, July 14, 2008
life is absolutely perfect right now.
or is it?
Posted by Zh. at 2:37 PM
Thursday, July 10, 2008
That's it sir,
The crackle of pig skin
The dust and the screaming
The yuppies networking
The panic, the vomit
The panic, the vomit
God loves his children
God loves his children
Posted by Zh. at 5:57 AM
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Posted by Zh. at 10:36 PM
Write,write,write,write. I feel so paranoid, sticky, devoid.
I want to write meaningful 2 liners, I want to move you, to not share,
share, Aderol,obsessive compulsive.
Its not that,its just that I understand, I get it, like 3 billion other people in the world, I get it. Don't you understand? You with your buzz cut, you wandering aimlessly but not lost. My brain is moving and changing rainbow colors.
Conformity? No staying between the lines,biting nails, swallowing fists.Scatterbrain,butter fingers, oil oozing out of foods. Flexible dances, so many avenues to lie in front of, so many ancient doors to open. Green, glitter, frosty (bites?shakes?), Jack the Ripper, Rush Limbau (?), Film School, summer,pretty,pretty hot summer. Falsettos. All of them, Thom, Andy, Jonsi, Devendra. The bass line.
I think I'm very disturbed,or maybe its what I want to be? An icon. A fucking icon. Don't care how. Skinny, smokey, ponderous, mysterious. There is no way not to think,not to write,not to sing,not to try and be. My soul is outlining my body as I hum gibberish. My soul is trapping me, bottle-capping my pores, inhaling my air.
Don't look at me expectantly, I don't want to talk to you, I am in a world so far removed from this one.
Full of veins, antlers, roots,magical light,secret doors, pulsating air,vibrating music,and no one.
There is always someone.
Stop the thoughts,the thinking, I cannot...no..its...draining..eating,emptying.
Put me in a hole, or put me down.
Posted by Zh. at 12:08 PM
Monday, July 7, 2008
Give me your Sunday Disney feeling.
Let us all just mesh into this wonderful nothingness we call life, lets just get together and be. I'll catch your tears and turn them into the rain that will fall on his face in glee, like dew from early morning leaves. Unset the standards, play your music for the fairies to dance to. Take your art and let the world be your canvas. We'll let the children pick wild berries, the animals wander in the distance. Let us, for a little while, forget about all the problems our elders have laid out for us and consider ourselves lucky to be alive.
Burst into flames.
Rise from the ashes.
Collect yourself in a necklace and let someone wear you.
Posted by Zh. at 9:42 PM
mom,dad Canada mein phass gaye hain.
i mean,what? no. poor things.
Posted by Zh. at 12:24 PM
Sunday, July 6, 2008
You are intent on making your mark at VCU, starting with your dorm room. Your roommate won’t have to worry about decorating because bare walls and empty bulletin boards don’t last long in your presence. You’ll find your inspiration on stage with Theatre VCU, on air through VCU InSight or in print at the Commonwealth Times. Stroll through Anderson Gallery on VCU’s Monroe Park Campus or down Broad Street to check out more arts and entertainment hotspots. Got an ear for music? Join the VCU Pep Band and funnel your talent into school spirit for VCU!
Posted by Zh. at 8:15 AM
Saturday, July 5, 2008
The best 22nd [ =( ] birthday present ever would be to see Sigur Ros in New York.
I'd pay big bucks to be in their proximity.
Tickets go on sale God knows when.
So I'm just waiting for that to happen I guess.
current mood: Pitfalls by Film School
Posted by Zh. at 9:00 PM
I'm staring out the window,at all the gum thats stained the concrete.Its a very gloomy,mechanical 5th of July.Very unlike a summer morning,dewy and grey.
Listen.Change does suck.
Childhood is the ease with which you sit on the floor.
'Life was easier when you could blame parents'.
Posted by Zh. at 7:33 AM
Can I live with you?
I'd be your cinnamon girl, make you happy for the rest of your life.
current mood: House Fire by Someone Still Loves You Boris Yelstin
Posted by Zh. at 6:20 AM
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
God its this ache in my fingers. I just have to hold a pencil and I just have to write.Its so draining.Sometimes I have absolutely nothing to say,so I just write song lyrics.
Watched the EuroCup08 in Raleigh-Durham.Who-da thunk?Downed a $5 Heineken (fuck airport bars) and had all these ugly but adoring older men to talk to. The one on my left was half Spanish, half German (what a dilemma to be in) the one on my right wasn't really taking sides. Another man was on the same flight as I and he used to work for the Swedes which is how he got into soccer,and another one's son used to play for some club ( I forget which one) and now plays for Harvard.
Anyway, sports, music, food and anti-Bushism brings people together.
I remember pissing Schweinsteiger off in my dream and A is making fun of me and I say sulking ' Shit,my one German friend.How am I gonna go to Germany now?'
Waisay,why the fuck did I pick Germany? Of all the most glorious places on Earth, I picked Germany. Fuck me sideways. Not Sweden, not Holland, not Italy, Japan or even Africa. Germany. Jahan sirf larkiyan hot hoti hain. Na khana acha, na koi scenic beauty, no yum yum culture. Kasam se, ajeeb hee hoon mein.
Posted by Zh. at 4:18 PM