tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236820302024-03-21T19:43:12.320+01:00kicking the queue sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-58404396704202533832018-12-18T01:42:00.003+01:002021-04-07T23:45:01.620+02:00heart is tricky like a poem<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCXO3973183" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;">
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span class="EOP SCXO3973183" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-size: medium; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span class="EOP SCXO3973183" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-size: medium; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">I am horizontal </span></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">( horizontal like 0245 </span></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">horizontal at 0245</span></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">horizontal in progression</span></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">horizontal sans progress</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">horizontal like thick wings</span></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">horizontal like a metaphorical lyric)</span></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">and now, all I need is a right angle </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">memorizing duckface, 2017 </td></tr>
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-37345262054417175832018-01-02T17:59:00.002+01:002021-04-07T23:46:38.893+02:00seekers of truth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_nx9ENoqjbT_qgLUVgbU_Idt0s5jM0JwBBg3dwLVdLW5feoO882z_p97RQ9M8XlWCxWBbmqaA_f2phQbmdg-XlWRoGqzeXAYHx0yEHQ0AdAiTwo58wWE7TwkpFseoDv0sdPqJ/s1600/SI_20170510_202715.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_nx9ENoqjbT_qgLUVgbU_Idt0s5jM0JwBBg3dwLVdLW5feoO882z_p97RQ9M8XlWCxWBbmqaA_f2phQbmdg-XlWRoGqzeXAYHx0yEHQ0AdAiTwo58wWE7TwkpFseoDv0sdPqJ/s400/SI_20170510_202715.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<br />
<br />
i.<br />
<br />
'pudding'<br />
<br />
I did proclaim that I'd start writing again, in familiar Instagram fashion, on new year's fussy twirls always performed on the onset of any new year(English in December/January or Nepali in March/April). I like to make resolutions (<i>I shared this with few people recently under Champagne and fireworks smokey haze- half of them laughed and said they did it as kids. I thought they had very little imagination about things children as adults do and done. But yes, I am one of those people whose god has Robin Sharma as munshi. No politically correct makeup these days. Something I discovered in 2017</i>).<br />
<br />
Anyhow, I hadn't expect to be propelled with such force from 2017 to 2018, that deceptive yank, that the projectile was a chilling Discovery Channels documentary; with plot, drama, twist, climax of the natural world. I ended up finding myself in an awkward position looking right back at me. It was unpleasant. One of the worst new year day of my life. Not to mention I had to eat fiske pudding, mamma used to feed me rice puddings on new year days. . .<br />
<br />
Intentions materialize faster when the cosmos wants you to catch up, on the race. Or maybe to reward you, with a spoon or two. How gay!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
ii.<br /><br />
'clinic visit'<br />
<br />
I realized this difficult chapter, of coming into triple energy run, of putting to words, of trying to piece together dirt or clearing- could very well be my prince in shiny armour. This space I started spacing into very soon after coming to Norway 59.7 million years ago, will fruit.<br />
I have indeed ignored my happy place, this window of wiring and alphabets.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
iii.<br />
<br />
'costa di caprica'<br />
<br />
But in light of entanglements being removed, here I am again; all horizontal, all optimistically new, realistically bruised.<br />
<br /><br /><br />
<br />
iv.<br />
<br />
'harmful chemicals'<br />
<br />
I love order. I really do. I've realized I am also not in actual order. One needs to do what one loves best, i.e bring order into what one ought to cherish most if needed. In my case it is the self. This waking, meandering consciousness of an excuse called mind which projects this self. Mind assumes responsibility for the heart, my foolish sweetheart!<br />
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<br />
v.<br />
<br />
'chips and apples'<br /><br />
I must say that I do miss writing. After working for years on my last paper or procrastinating for years to do the former, I had shunned the activity of typing. But been writing for too long for it to traumatize me severely. Typing still remains the top three favourite activities for self preservation.<br />
<br />
A Spanish gentleman said that if you do not raise your eyes you'd think you are the highest point. <i>Bless Antonio Porchia</i> !<br />
<br />
Bless 2018, bless time, bless change for always being tangible and present! So ready for you!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">no free will</span></td></tr>
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<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-14831310546972136802015-10-23T06:41:00.003+02:002021-04-07T23:47:13.153+02:00avocations <span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
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kl.0830: Hello, where was I? I am awake? What is this noise of light? Do alarms have hands that mend nightmares like a handyman? Can I scratch my pussy with my pinkie? Why, look- my hands look lovely. Maybe I turn right and sleep right now? Just a little bit longer..<br />
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kl.0900: That was quick. I didn't sleep a wink. Ha. Gym at 10. Is the garden of Eden better today? I hear nothing. Maybe I should see nothing. Stop fidgeting. Just a little bit longer..<br />
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kl.1030: All those alarms do nothing. When I say nothing, I mean the weight of 21 ants, the sound of eyelashes clashing when it is windy, the smell of soap when you have cold.. I am so deluded. I set the alarm everyday without fail, to fail. Delusion is mostly over-driven optimism. But optimism, without it- I'd be dead.. just a little bit longer..<br />
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kl.1145: Food delivery. Don't brush your teeth, wear a little lipstick and tip. No one notices your foul breath. Keep your distance. I think my nipples were showing. I hate these brief interventions of exterior sounds. Just a little bit longer...<br />
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kl.1210: I am not sick. I am lazy. But I am not lazy, I am sick. Nothing is acceptable, while everything is forgiveable. That is why the anatomy of self-love makes the whole system dysfunctional these days.. If you don't get it, you are doing well. Just a little bit longer..<br />
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kl.1540: I blink too much when I look at red paintings, I blink too much when I am walking past healthy humans, I blink too much when I eat a carrot, I blink too much when I am thinking about sonnets, I blink too much when I walk down the stairs, I blink too much just most of the blinking time. Blinking too often makes you appear untruthful. But in a staring competition, I win without a blink. So when is the best time to lie? I wonder...just a little bit longer.<br />
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kl.1830: Had to throw away the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, the leaves were snapping. Forgetting to water plants is not a sin yet (Mother dear would disagree). But destruction of beauty makes it feel like one. This obsession with beauty is basically not an evolutionary prerequisite, just a pseudo-intellectual exaggeration. Weaknesses unnecessary and absurd, just a little bit longer..<br />
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kl.2230: I did not move much today. But I moved within. Just a little bit longer...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h1 class="firstHeading" id="firstHeading" lang="en" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-bottom-color: rgb(170, 170, 170); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(170, 170, 170); font-family: "Linux Libertine", Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.3; margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Pierre et Gilles</span></h1>
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<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-48442293090171741672015-09-03T01:10:00.003+02:002021-04-07T23:47:25.898+02:00monkey business<span style="font-size: medium;">i<br />
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<span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">There is a lot of looking back these days, looking back at the shadows touching toes, and going through creases and folds of memories all too tied up under forgotten luggage. Maybe it is so, because I can't sit still. One can't afford to sit still when being plodded; even in memory because it is poisonous. </span><br />
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<span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">ii</span><br />
<span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;"><br /></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="color: #141823;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.32px;">Today on my way home from Blindern, I thought about the monkey business. The monkey, once hated and now embraced. </span></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="color: #141823;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.32px;">Growing up in Kathmandu, you routinely end up in temples with family where the darn monkeys swing and seize! </span></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">Stray dogs and monkeys have always co-existed with Kathmandu basi..Thus,as a Kathmandu basi this monkey business, though now seemingly insignificant or simple, was ghastly once</span><br />
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<span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="color: #141823;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.32px;">As a teenage, </span></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">I'd have send all the monkeys of the world to hell or Mercury (oh so hot & cold). I'd have gladly taped all of them together on a float and let them drift into the ocean, or maybe shoot them into space- never to be heard from again (anger all too bellowed with clichés). I hated monkeys, hated them with a feverish stun gun in the heart. It didn't help that daddy dear enjoyed them so much. I </span></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">never got how or why he once had a pet monkey. Never understood why he'd go feed those juvenile bastards peanuts or sit next to them, as if he still was one of them. Maybe what baffled me was his complete trust and fondness for those miscreants <i>and</i> why the vile creatures never even hissed at him! </span><br />
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<span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">On one occasion, near </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guhyeshwari_Temple" style="line-height: 19.32px;" target="_blank">Guhjeshwari temple</a><span style="line-height: 19.32px;"> a curiously feisty troop of monkeys came snarling at me. They slowly pulled on my kurta and climbed on me. I remember some tourists even took pictures of the spectacle while the family slightly amused, looked on, telling me to relax and not scream. I</span></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;"> remember </span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">I had my eyes shut tighter than tight; </span></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">them paws, so sharp and vindictive! T</span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">he loathing was instant and then very, very constant. </span><br />
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<span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">But now after all these years & a pinch of introspection, I don't hate them. I do not even wish to get rid of them. I would/do not throw rocks at them or secretly wish for them to evaporate. Besides, those monkeys wouldn't have attached themselves to me if only I had let go of all the trinkets in my clutched hand that they probably wanted. I was told to let it go, but I vaguely remember any specific instructions. In the face of fear, some of us are a wall of dull cement -unmoving, rigid & stupid. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">I wonder </span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">why hatred is such an easy route, why it comes so easily when we keep our eyes shut and refuse to relax. empathize or understand? Why do we loathe things we fear, why can't humans let go of the vulgarity of superficial condemnation.. The world could be a better place in its absence. Idealistic glasses might be on right now but really there is a lot of useless hatred floating around in pockets of all humans. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">After the earthquake, Nepal's population seems to have roused worse political vocabularies and ideologies full of pretence. I normally do not rant about what is happening elsewhere except my own head and self. But what is happening there somehow is not far away from me. </span></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">All the darn hatred and discord in Nepal, that sprang out from disgruntled politicians in Kathmandu is everywhere now Mechi dekhi Mahakali.... </span></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">It is infectious, it erodes edges of our potential peace. </span></span><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">But then again, we have always been conditioned to ridiculous self/communal sabotage. Without repeated error, all men would be immaculate heroes. But time is ticking and bad feelings seem to be just growing. Darn immaculate heroes, kata ho? </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="color: #141823;"><span style="font-size: medium; line-height: 19.32px;">Anyhow now we should relax, not keep our eyes shut & let go of whatever unnecessary trinkets we are clutching. Or at least, try because in the end you are going to live together. All monkeys must co-exist. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif" style="color: #141823;"><span style="font-size: medium; line-height: 19.32px;">Monkeys BEHAVE ! </span></span></span></div>
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-82363180047617042912015-08-27T03:34:00.001+02:002021-04-07T23:47:45.139+02:00soul science <span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" lang="EN-US">As a kid I mostly drew mountains, trees, nepali ‘gauko ghar’, clouds, cows, dogs, fish and birds, j</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">ust like any other kid. Tendentiously attaching self to </span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">simple things that stood detached posing no threat, no threat to understanding of self or life. . A river could swell or dry, all depended on those crayons that didn't slip under the bed or sofa. A red dog for Monday, black cows to play with blue crows for Tuesday, yellow fences for the green house on Wednesdays, green cherry bushes for Thursdays, maybe a pink house for the weekend. Play god, be the prime minister, do some road building, be a gardener... </span><br />
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">The teenager 'I' had no time to draw anything expect caricatures (simulacrum as rebellion). Turned 18 and all hell broke loose (sweet dissipation, natural progression). </span><i><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">The world is filled with tactile adventures/ 3D is better than 2D.</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif"> </span></i><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif"><i>Sex, drugs and rock-n-roll replace many things for most.</i> Forget playing god, or the prime minister, forget road building, or the gardener..</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif"><i>Every passing decade that the spirit survives the charming world of uncertainty and adventures, the magic fluctuates. </i></span><br />
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<span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">Reduction, selection and complications might be the curses of ageing. No wonder some of us refuse to grow up. </span><br />
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">Now, I find myself </span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">increasingly </span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">playing, forgetting rules and reinventing the world again<i> drawing houses with hundreds of windows for each of my pet crow, a well in the garden for the fish to live, trees with the ridiculous swings, and those Tom Sawyer fences that go on for miles and miles till they melt into the mountains.</i> N</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">ot just because the internet keeps reminding us what Picasso remarked about the importance of keeping the child alive, n</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">ot because Capricorns</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif"> supposedly become more childlike as they age, not because astrology is pointless yet fun like boys, not just because I am often told 'Do not to grow up' and 'Grow up' ( conflicting instructions)..</span><br />
<span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">Because </span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">I have got to do it to renew the magic, the impermeable state of sanity needs it. Gotta do it for t</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">he magic <i>of escape, </i>for being thrilled while meditative, to become the gardener again and play god who wants a world in hours or days or minutes. </span><br />
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">Without magic, there are no miracles. Right now, there is need for miracles. Otherwise all light will dim and life might cease to be. </span><br />
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<span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">After</span><br />
<span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">the dust from the dance </span><br />
<span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">settles, </span><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">it starts </span><br />
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">to pick up again. </span><br />
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">The lover </span><br />
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<span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">O come, move</span><br />
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">me and conceal meanings</span><br />
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">elsewhere. C</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">atharsis, </span><br />
<span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">will you claim us again?</span><br />
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<span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">Playplayonemustplay. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" lang="EN-US">‘Matter in the solid state maintains a fixed volume and shape, with component particles (atoms, molecules or ions) close together and fixed into place. </span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US">Matter in the liquid state maintains a fixed volume, but has a variable shape that adapts to fit its container. Its particles are still close together but move freely. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US">Matter in the gaseous state has both variable volume and shape, adapting both to fit its container. Its particles are neither close together nor fixed in place. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US">Matter in the plasma state has variable volume and shape, but as well as neutral atoms, it contains a significant number of ions and electrons, both of which can move around freely. <a href="http://books.google.no/books?id=irHgIUtLi0gC&pg=PA138&hl=en#v=onepage&q&f=false" target="_blank">Plasma</a> is the most common form of visible matter in the universe.’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;">'Under extreme conditions, the atoms themselves begin to break down; electrons are stripped from their orbit around the nucleus</span><span style="background-color: white;">. The resulting mixture of neutral atoms, free electrons, and charged ions that is </span><span style="background-color: white;">plasma</span><span style="background-color: white;"> has some unique qualities. A plasma is a fluid, like a liquid or gas, but because of the charged particles present in a plasma, it responds to and generates electro-magnetic forces.'</span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></span><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">The Laws of science allow matter to change, move, excite and re-create under conditions of varying proportions. We are enslaved by science in macro and micro ways. This excites my soul. </span></span><br />
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">Miracles</span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif"> are real. I must believe, or else. </span><br />
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-82397125862742546202015-03-14T02:49:00.002+01:002021-04-07T23:47:57.321+02:00so weak, so disappointing <span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br />
kl.0830: The first alarm sounds like a teacher, who is very kind and somewhat fastidious. I never ignore it. So today, I woke up only to rediscover the fact that I am still not in any good shape to battle with the disobedient eyelids. Snooze alarm had to be set up; I act surprised every time. </span><br />
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kl.0915: I hate the early-morning I; so weak, so disappointing! </span><br />
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kl.1230: Trying to gain some weight is not as easy as you might think. I lost so much during Christmas and New years, that now I feel invisible at times. The wind had been particularly strong last week, I felt like a leaf. A leaf is an insignificant amount, while 7 kilograms is a lot of atoms. Lunch was heavy. Long live turkeys! </span><br />
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kl.1810: Being in gupatabaas is a strange stimulation of the needy-distraction-muscles. </span><br />
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kl. 2145: The romantic appeal of alcohol-free life is much to do with the dislike for outnumbering human commotion and noises. But it also might have a lot to do with the need for silence on a friday. Living 50 meters away from the new 'hispterlane' doesn't bother the mind. My music is just as loud. I feel so dignified in my lack of alcoholic interests. If my mother knew I'd be like this one day, I don't think 'being grounded' would have been implemented so frequently. But then again, it was hardly ever successful. Rebellion always starts out young and injurious. </span><br />
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kl. 2330: The more I read that is disguised as studying, the more I rebel. The more I am required to stay away from distractions, the more logic collapses. But discipline is vital. I shall not smoke more pot tonight. </span><br />
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">kl.2355: Breaking primary rules is more exciting than letting go of secondary ones. </span><br />
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">kl.0140: If misspelling other's name is a deadly sin, then what is misspelling your own name? </span><br />
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">kl.0231: [ Not late night, but early morning surfing] Just read the news that a 30 year old psychiatric patient in Lovisenberg sykehus hit an employee with a crowbar, stole the keys and ran away. 'The police are considering the man dangerous'. Is that man really dangerous, or maybe he just have had enough of staying in on a friday? But yeah, I hope someone finds him soon. It is kinda cold out there. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.hamishheath.com/portfolio/" target="_blank"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Hamish Heath</span></a></td></tr>
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-332849607681800142015-03-11T01:31:00.005+01:002021-04-07T23:48:08.251+02:00carrots, please<div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">kl.1130: Meet pinchi: an old man struggled to stand or sit properly in the trikk today. Through out the ride I held out my hand and stayed in stand-by position, across the aisle from him, to stop him from falling over during turns and high speed. I felt so sad seeing him commute alone when he looks like he should not. My nose pinched and as usual tears followed. A stranger looked at me. I had to fake a yawn. Haray shiva! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">kl.1800: It used to be 20 feet, now I can't even read what is 6 feet ahead. It is high time I start eating carrots again, or wear glasses.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">Kl.2130: These days slowly digging into instagram is fun. The whole joy of it isn't trying to compete with the selfie-whores, but rather relish the candour. There is possibility to create a sense of how people are, how they think and to some extent who they would like to think they are through the pictures posted. Sometimes you know people mislead you. That is exciting, the misleading channels. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">kl.2330: I have started to meditate again; that doesn't make me spiritual though. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">kl,2345: Try not to hate alternatives, they keep you going. Or growing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">kl.0015: I noticed I am blocked.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">kl.0120: Sex is circles and slowly. Familiarity breeds security. But there is fun involved as no one is the same after a little game. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">kl.0215: 'Close your eyes, touch your breast, rub your thighs and say my name'. Is that all? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif">kl.0310: I have finally announced the guptabaas. I shall come here to pander though.</span><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br /></span><br />
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-76771823219692204062015-02-20T00:52:00.002+01:002021-04-07T23:48:26.990+02:00let me punish you<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Our emotional consciousness is often clouded by impulse. But we don’t want impulsiveness to take over. Why is that so? </span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Because some can dance, while others can’t. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: small;">''...the fooool in my bed still believes every word you say..." </span></b></td></tr>
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<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-19607559363775257712015-02-18T02:16:00.004+01:002021-04-07T23:48:41.099+02:00songs for man <span style="font-size: medium;">I<br />
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Patience is a virtue; thank cosmos my mother was/is a garden junkie.<br />
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[ <i>I am confused,</i><br />
<i>I do not remember you.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Oh!</i><br />
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<i>I do not remember the coughs, I only recall buwaji, Sunny, lovers, walls, blankets, all of them and it, concerned over my chest noises.</i><br />
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<i>I do not remember how you called out my name. My name has become foreign due to all these bideshi tongues. How did my name play your lips, I can't recall.</i><br />
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<i>I do not remember kisses, were there any at all? Though so many kisses lived and died, I do not remember loving, most of all. ]</i><br />
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But underneath and undying, you are a seed. <i>Who knows what flowers will bloom?</i><br />
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Patience is a virtue.<br />
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II<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Five years is a long time.<br />
While one month,<br />
18 days is a long time too.<br />
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Let us live with elastic parameters,<br />
because time, affection,<br />
& longings remain relative.<br />
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III<br />
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I am fond of gardens, <i>overalt</i>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We are cruel sometimes. </span></td></tr>
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<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-21101729311836326872014-05-25T01:52:00.002+02:002021-04-07T23:48:54.277+02:00a cake for a cake<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">there were brick fences and plastic pipes</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">under the guava trees in our flight.</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">ladies with songs and kings with clowns</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">next to the comical backyard marathons.</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> in sweaters we found muddy lints</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">my pleasurable little muffin kin.</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">soft speeches and puppies in pockets,</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">tank drawings and television sequence.</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">under chimneys and star gazing we held</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">coca cola in wine glass treasons. </span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">our childhood with fights and cries,</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">makes glee seem undignified. </span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">you may have blackmail complaints, </span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I may have bigger lawsuits.</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">but your drawings were better,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">while my speeches were glitters.</span><br />
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">may you always have love tooth,</span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">gnawing at your wisdom and fortitude.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">maybe un-forgetting and never mending </span><br />
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif">the fragments of nuisance and superman</span></span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">flames, my little mouse brother </span></div>
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<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">you have turned another year again. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h2 class="richPinName" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px; text-align: center;">
<a class="richPinNameLink" href="http://www.artistaday.com/?p=3860" rel="nofollow" style="color: #333333; text-decoration: none;"><span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">Camilla Engman</span></a></h2>
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-21448680840848870312014-04-24T01:57:00.001+02:002021-04-07T23:49:05.073+02:00bye bye miasma <span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
If you live with someone for a prolonged period of time, you tend to be incapable of seeing them for who they truly are. Their antics, somehow, find a way to normalize itself in your head. After all, what happens out in the world is often very different from how your mind tends to remember it. The process of truth building is very corrupt when emotional dependency overshadows any objectivity. All complaints and grievances slowly become a mild smell that you get used to. If at first you had any doubts about commitment, they collaborate with time to become invisible. This is what happens if you live with someone for a long, long time...<br />
<br />
..maybe because the charms of the lover are so strong and shiny, they will cajole your purest intentions straight to purgatory.<br />
<br />
..maybe the company of the lover makes the whole world fade away in its blazing trail and the emotional phenomenon becomes a grand musical.<br />
<br />
..perhaps the lover's silence becomes even more mysterious with time, like an unexplored jungle that keeps exploding with strange noises and animal behaviour.<br />
<br />
..maybe our weakness in the lover's presence makes our definitions about life so loud, that overtime we start thinking they are our reality.<br />
<br />
Funny thing, this reality business. In retrospect, reality always is a contested piece of land, <i>like Jerusalem</i>. It has so many dimensions and claims on its existence that neither east or west, hard or mushy, intrepid or brittle can become its true identity. But when the love affairs spills itself all over your life, making you paralysed and depressed- it has to be dealt with.<br />
<br />
So I did.<br />
<i><br /></i>
And today I am very proud to announce the end of my tumultuous love affair with insomnia, after almost a decade of having lived with it. It does feel wonderful to be able to sleep at 11 pm or 10 or 9 pm. I don't know how I feel about it, maybe because I just don't have any time to long for it since the emotional zombie in me has been medically killed. The newly prescribed sleeping pills feel like horse tranquillizers and I am just on 25 mg.<br />
<br />
Rebound relationships are a necessity for cowards, they say.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h1 class="commentDescriptionContent" style="background-color: white; color: #171717; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", arial, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px; max-width: 600px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Christian Schole</span></h1>
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<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-27989796853127236802013-11-16T02:43:00.002+01:002021-04-07T23:49:42.004+02:00heart is not a linear matter<div style="text-align: center;">
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he patiently sits</span></div>
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for me to melt and ease;</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
as if his affections were made of heat </span></div>
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and steel. in a letter, this week, he wrote</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
how he lives and memorizes every sight </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
of kisses that my lips once planted on him.<br />
life may be cold he said but until the<br />
yellow flowers live in that Japanese porcelain</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
he shall without grumbling wait. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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wait for breath and stars to fade.</span><br />
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-63773055363752106272013-10-31T01:52:00.002+01:002021-04-07T23:51:48.147+02:00erotic task of depression<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><span style="font-size: medium;">we come back from away and dark </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: medium;">because in the morning </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: medium;">lover slowly tells soft stories of nightmares </span></i></div>
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I</span></div>
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It had been a while since you lied to me. So a total surprise it was not</span></div>
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hearing you say allthosemagneticallymundanethingsonceagain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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In response, I found myself getting even more attracted to you. </span></div>
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II</span></div>
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Absence of space denotes one large breath.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: medium;">allthosemagneticallymundanethingsonceagain</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: medium;">onceallthosemagneticallymundancethingsagain</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: medium;">allthosethingsagainoncemagneticallymundane</span></i></div>
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Absence of one large breath denotes too much space in your head. </span></div>
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III</span></div>
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This morning </span></div>
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when the charcoal fanged stings of longings</span></div>
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hit me </span></div>
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in between my legs and emotional breath,</span></div>
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I stoned myself to a noir comedy death. </span></div>
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No wonder those words I uttered to you </span></div>
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while I lay there now </span></div>
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taste like stale bread. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimstwmLP5N_KjNqrqlHAaythfjbswF-sqP3DcB3db-relzyLPTN_DibophPf4tyBtjqiDGY5qMasqeI3pMwSWBbC3vFh8bu2P9bE12rPMDGaR90bdQCaF-Mm8kkyLSVeq7rXnC/s1600/151120122078.jpg"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimstwmLP5N_KjNqrqlHAaythfjbswF-sqP3DcB3db-relzyLPTN_DibophPf4tyBtjqiDGY5qMasqeI3pMwSWBbC3vFh8bu2P9bE12rPMDGaR90bdQCaF-Mm8kkyLSVeq7rXnC/s640/151120122078.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">'you live just once, live a double life'</span></div>
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<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-29723234263206279922013-09-23T00:53:00.002+02:002021-04-07T23:52:22.901+02:00no exit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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tonight lust is ill aligned </span></div>
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there is no fit so diminutive </span></div>
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where it could ease into a fall,</span></div>
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or a squeeze. because suddenly</span></div>
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lust is so winsome with eager ways.</span></div>
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oh, do stay away. </span></div>
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but look at it</span></div>
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pretty please look:</span></div>
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a general man</span></div>
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a gullible gorilla</span></div>
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a sarcastic kitty</span></div>
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a misunderstood tea lady</span></div>
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a rococo fiasco</span></div>
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a pencil strummed shriek</span></div>
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some borrowed lines </span></div>
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a second-hand trick </span></div>
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the fragrant flags</span></div>
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some common likes</span></div>
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some silver bling</span></div>
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some wooden shine</span></div>
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a suede attitude</span></div>
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the cursory timeline</span></div>
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a photoshop'ed enigma</span></div>
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unmanned attitudes</span></div>
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forget all impressions.</span></div>
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you are so complaisant </span></div>
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<br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/-dS2McPYzEE/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-dS2McPYzEE?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-87654847627676934352013-09-16T00:28:00.001+02:002021-04-07T23:52:45.272+02:00May your day be ripe and important<br />
<br /><span style="font-size: medium;">
If nostalgia were a religion,<br />
<br />
I would pin myself as the purported atheist;<br />
fighting in the dim lit chambers where<br />
they worshiped air whose<br />
feelings never roused questions. .<br />
But This Is Such Vile Lies.<br />
<br />
<br />
Because I know we are<br />
<br />
waiting unfazed and ubiquitously<br />
hanging by the smell<br />
of the famished air<br />
that once bruised our breath.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJSiymp7SfS6W2mjbcXAjRfg_8XJU6Wizo1U2FhkKK2aj3IU6jhklBpe-8n6jLN2e-p95PSchpSDUTGULUXoMGldVSGWDk1UPLVHbALfZbhYHzDlWfCMd0KNGbqUV2oso5SFQ/s1600/0537c8f31873612fd3d34642eb94779b.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJSiymp7SfS6W2mjbcXAjRfg_8XJU6Wizo1U2FhkKK2aj3IU6jhklBpe-8n6jLN2e-p95PSchpSDUTGULUXoMGldVSGWDk1UPLVHbALfZbhYHzDlWfCMd0KNGbqUV2oso5SFQ/s640/0537c8f31873612fd3d34642eb94779b.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eric T.White</td></tr>
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-66236001041502236222013-02-21T00:03:00.002+01:002021-04-07T23:53:28.310+02:00anticlockwise: eraser malady<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: medium;">I wish I could hold your giant hands right now <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: medium;">and slowly rub my face with it, with an anticlockwise rhyme<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: medium;">so that time would rearrange the cells in our
bodies <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: medium;">that have preserved memories like formalin, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: medium;">against your wishes and mine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/revistaselect/7330323816/in/photostream/" target="_blank">Gastão de Magalhães</a></span></h1>
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-25913325445560019772012-11-02T08:59:00.004+01:002021-04-08T00:00:28.059+02:00to adore you is to quit being complacent <div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">
or not?</span><br />
'your hair is a dead bird's nest',<br />
he thinks but says not a word to her.<br />
<br />
'I hate your shoes like it's made of foolishness', </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
she feels and might say well edited verses in its interest,<br />
<br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
'you left me alone and walked off that night'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
he reminds her, and reels in sadness.<br />
<br />
<br />
but the landscape of romance insists<br />
that you chose not love or pain but you </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
polish your swords to hunt down preys, and bully<br />
mild affections saying 'you think too much', and you<br />
hang up the phone during the middle of a grand sentence</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
and spit on noses & rub word wounds.<br />
oh you must. but<br />
<br />
to adore, to be reminiscent, to dream together<br />
to love, to remember. remember to dare<br />
and become non-complacent like a maladjusted glove<br />
that starts to fit slowly, so<br />
let me be yours now<i>. </i></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mujiji.tumblr.com/post/34810102588/accepting-the-compromise-of-the-way-we-have-been" target="_blank">tarna kumar</a></td></tr>
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<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-55030882027280315762012-10-31T13:07:00.003+01:002021-04-08T00:00:44.062+02:00pardon me<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><span>last night,</span><br />
<span><br />
I was supposed to make pasta and fish for dinner, I did not.</span><br />
<span>I was supposed to head to the gym for an hour; that didn't happen.</span><br />
<span>I was supposed to look up tutorials and make myself a nun's habit ( in white), but it wasn't to be.</span><br />
<span><br />
<br />
<br />
this morning,</span><br />
<span><br />
I was supposed to fix some breakfast but I nearly burned down the kitchen again.</span><br />
<span>I was even supposed to call mom and chit chat for few minutes, but then I couldn't even endure my own voice.</span><br />
<span>I was to get up early and start cleaning my room for the party tonight, but hey I am still in bed.</span><br />
<span><br />
<br />
<br />
now, </span><br />
<span><br />
I am supposed to be wearing my glasses but I have my eyes closed.</span><br />
<span>While I am supposed to breathe long breaths, I am choking on oxygen.</span><br />
<span>And am I not supposed to dream about you? But here I am wide awake, refusing you. </span><br /></span>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My gun is better than yours.</td></tr>
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-64866260844378823962012-10-09T14:30:00.002+02:002021-04-08T00:01:00.574+02:00suddenly I am down<div style="text-align: center;">
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how did you get here?</span></div>
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did images of abandoned mornings</span></div>
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and kisses without tongues </span></div>
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strap you like anchor</span></div>
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to sink you?</span></div>
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did words,</span></div>
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careless and tiny</span></div>
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like swallows, smolder you to ashes?</span></div>
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from where did you inherit the fall ? </span></div>
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was it the head or the heart ?</span></div>
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or was it the sequins of secret lust?</span></div>
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did you squeeze </span></div>
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your breast on your way </span></div>
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down like it was made of marshmallows?</span></div>
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did you lose your sense of direction </span></div>
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like that time you nearly</span></div>
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drowned ?</span></div>
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down is not out, you must not close your eyes. </span></div>
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can you see anyone? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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hello?</span></div>
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-56816882633324027972012-09-03T01:40:00.002+02:002021-04-08T00:01:17.650+02:00where is your dirt? <div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
My methods for getting back order are tangentially easier. I routinely round up the sullen books and empty beer cans. I bound dirty clothes with each other's threads and toss the broken lives into the bin. The lipstick stain of polite grins and bubble gum nods get erased. Stacks of alphabetical yearnings from dirty and busy fingers in screens get deleted without a breath. Its almost like the vacuum cleaner is sucking every noise in the cosmos, it comes thundering into life screaming for silence. </span></div>
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But does silence come? Well, it does and sadly it never stays for too long. </span></div>
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That's because we are so darn busy, yo. When life is busy, there are so many different kinds of noise. The gutter of human chatter from the moment you wake up till you crawl into bed again is heavy. There are the petite sounds of keyboards, ringtones and elevator bells. Even the familiar click of your keys in doors or car holes scratch a sound. All these multiple layers of noise deprive you of a clean and peaceful life.
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Still we go at it aggressively every week, every month; on and on. We try so hard to make it happen, to keep the stains away from clean sheets. To religiously keep the sight of dirt absent. To keep noise locked out of the room and head.<br />
<br />
But it is piffle to resist the noise, the dirt, the confusions..</span></div>
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I don't know what is more amusing: the irony of all that cleaning out of life turning into a dirty game of cycles, or the fact that if you don't create order in your life you become a spec in the landscape of filth and chaos yourself. Because let's face it, to have order in life is such a turn on. Everything in its proper place; nothing inclined too far or north. It is a desirable luxury. But ironically, order in its magnificence is built on disorder. So in this dirty game, disorder is actually necessary for order eh..<br />
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Anyhow, I procrastinated cleaning my room again today for the 24th time this month. Blah. </span></div>
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<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-80601538563203794042012-08-31T01:00:00.004+02:002021-04-08T00:01:54.888+02:00let thy chthonic ghosts die<span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
kl.0745: New addictions are mandatory. I drink milk obsessively now.<br />
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kl.1415: Eating almost a quarter of a cake today [carrot cake: num num num] shouldn't make any woman feel guilty or irresponsible as a vanity object. Nope. </span></div>
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KL.1715: The other day boyfriend showed me a video of Nepali police raiding a guest house in Kathmandu. Now police wants to set up an example of culturally apt sexual values? Picking on young, consensual adults is a waste of our tax money. Don't they have something better to do, like catch rapists instead? Ha.<br />
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kl.1830: I wonder how fantastic rest of the world feels after a proper, sunny beating of high temperatures and deo stick rubs. Summer is over. So is frequent shaving, waxing and 11 pm fearless runs. I will be running at 9 pm now; looking like a yeti.<br />
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kl.2300: My sleep is miserable like a deaf Panotti. Sometimes I wake up an hour before the alarm and the other day I did not even hear it. Taming your sleep probably is a triumph.</span></div>
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kl.2305: Oh yes, I quit smoking. I miss it not as much as I miss getting spanked.<br />
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kl.2320: I saw Henrik Ibsen's bed today, it is as big as mine. I guess, some of us like beds big enough to just about fit all of us and our egos. </span></div>
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KL.0015: As a kid I would have never desired to be a grown up if I knew one day I would not even have enough time in a day to masturbate. Who knew time would shrink as age stretched!<br />
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KL.0020: Look out for changes, stay perky for happiness.</span><br />
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sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-70248969015303017962012-08-04T05:20:00.005+02:002021-04-08T00:02:29.883+02:00not two but many stones and the likes<br />
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unmask clandestine numerations ?</span></div>
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should you.</span></div>
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must you,</span></div>
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would you, </span></div>
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want such translucent secrets to expel themselves ?</span></div>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div>sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-11225468026407808972012-05-04T15:55:00.001+02:002021-04-08T00:02:45.614+02:00an episode of reincarnation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Now I am recycling dead flies I find on my window sill. </span></div>
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(Ah, the joys of stationery and death !)</span></div>
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<br />sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-52602734456028150932012-05-03T14:25:00.001+02:002021-04-08T00:02:56.033+02:00while life wrestles with spring<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I go foraging for ghosts and angels</span></div>
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(only because I am a sentimental biped) </span></div>
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</div>sneezestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532176871044160075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23682030.post-60067763095928620562012-04-27T19:21:00.001+02:002021-04-08T00:03:13.617+02:00itchy lips may kiss<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span>'</span>I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. </i><i>Out on the edge </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>you see all </i><i>kinds of things </i><i>you can't see from the center.' </i><i>- Kurt Vonnegut. Jr</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">(i)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">I dreamed about you again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: left;">We were both running to find some source of water. </span><span style="text-align: left;">It was urgency </span><span style="text-align: left;">in </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: left;">our </span><span style="text-align: left;">search that </span><span style="text-align: left;">made me sweat </span><span style="text-align: left;">and wake up </span><span style="text-align: left;">grappling</span><span style="text-align: left;"> the night's thin air.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">I found my pillow wet with tears and my heart hurt (this is a small price to </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: left;">pay </span><span style="text-align: left;">for </span><span style="text-align: left;">being </span><span style="text-align: left;">disgracefully </span><span style="text-align: left;">susceptible to </span><span style="text-align: left;">dreams/</span><span style="text-align: left;">nightmares that keep one</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: left;">enthralled for hours </span><span style="text-align: left;">even after waking up)</span><span style="text-align: left;">. But I tried to salvage the dream.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: left;">I only remember the torrid rush; my body was on flames with</span><span style="text-align: left;"> thick </span><span style="text-align: left;">smoke. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">The air was quickly turning into dust and the whole forest was lighting up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: left;"> However, I recall total absence of fear. M</span><span style="text-align: left;">aybe because you were also burning. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">(ii)</span></div>
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Of course, I remember. You would cautiously look at me like I am a</span></div>
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magical rabbit that might disappear into the hat any minute. You took </span></div>
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care not to let go of my ears. You delicately tried to see if I was real.</span></div>
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When you decided that I was not a magical rabbit, you shoved me</span></div>
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back into the hat. And of course, I can see you are still wondering if</span></div>
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I am a magical rabbit or not. You think you were wrong, don't you?</span></div>
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But you see, I am not a magical rabbit at all. I am the magician.</span></div>
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(iii)<br />
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You can't live like this. You must remember each and every moment we<br />
pretended to be profound. You must remember every night we thought<br />
about death and clasped each other to assure life of bliss. You must<br />
remember that your lies or mine have now transpired into a story that<br />
will forever move us when we look back. You must make me the villain<br />
and I shall make you the villain. You must stab the absence with crust.<br />
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You must take up the weapons and show me what it is to be without.<br />
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And there I was thinking we were just having a little bit of fun. </span></div>
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