Monday, January 28, 2008


Voici mon secret. Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.

Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.

The Little Prince

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Absolutely nothing at all

Much in the nature of my newly-purchased coffee plunger, I have been leaving out the scummy sediment in slow, gentle pushes. Sometimes though, it gets a little overbearing. I wish people would come to terms.
Do you know what I hate about this blog? I will tell you. It's that you read it and I know exactly what you look like. Oh come now, don't go away. It's not like I'm going to be telling you anything meaningful in the slightest. Oh no, I don't feel angry and exasperated at AWL. Picture of calm, that's me.

I am so angry and exasperated. Doods.

The good thing is, I have crazy expensive sneakers. They're Nike, with shiny laces, but black and frightfully classy. I feel like I'm walking on bubbles. They give me a camel gait. It's something between crouching and walking on tippy-toes, and running. I'm not sure that's a good thing, but it sure as hell feels comfortable neck down. The neck hurts, though. How them camels manage it I'll never know. If any of you drop in at the South City Nike store, don't mention my name. They'll think you're crazy too.
But I have two kinds of laces. Yay!
I also have lovely coffee brung from foren. And chocolate. Tere paas kya hai?
Is it a little too obvious that I have nothing to say? South City mall scares me. It is mammoth. I keep thinking it'll come alive and be mean while I'm hunched over a window display.
But the Starmark! I heart the Starmark. I want to buy it and bathe in its literary abundance. I just wish there weren't so many unnecessary people.
I feel stupid sometimes.

Friday, January 25, 2008

All that remains is 9 saved conversations. A few emails. And a memory in half-truths. I have a bad habit of turning to the buried past, taking comfort in its deadness. I am averse to new confidences, I owe many who genuinely love and care for me my deepest, most heartfelt apologies. You are not the one I need. What I need is receding in time. As memories fade, archives get auto-deleted, I sometimes wonder what I will grab at next.
There are new memories, though. Beautiful photographs. I find myself singing these days. New experiences, mature, reasonable company. Impractical, passionate people. Love everywhere. I will not forget. And be forever grateful.

There are things I want to say, but this is not the place.
I am glad for french roast coffee.