mewSunday, March 25, 2007

I feel you creeping, I can see it from my shadow..
Wanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo.

He'd always comment on how the guy in the song calls it Gallardo with an L instead of Ga'yy'ardo, which is what the actual pronounciation is. Since last night, she has the song on repeat; on her laptop, in her car, inside her head. Everytime he says Gallardo, she smiles; it's a confused smile. It's a sad and happy smile at the same time. She thinks about him.. she's sad, she's happy. She doesn't know whether to be happy that they had the 'shoop for a little period of time, or to be sad that the time was little.

Four years ago he got inside her head and she got scared and ran away. "For a change, it was you who ran away that day". She remembers all the little things. From strangers to accquaintances to best friends to good friends to accquaintances to just friends to so much more. And then, the not talking.. the pain, the hurt, the indifference- he had an EQ of a refrigerator.

He humored her like no one else. She could say all those things somehow that she would never say to anyone else. She talked about her deepest insecurity.. that she's talked to no one, no one else about. He told her his in return. The making up of the new words.. the jokes that no one else would ever get. He was amused by her, she was flattered. He'd make her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

He taught her how to think. He introduced her to bash.org, unknowingly introduced her to laughter when she'd forgotten how to smile. He unknowingly gave her hope when she had lost all of it. He showed her how even though it seems like the end, it isn't the end. In spite of his self depressiveness, he somehow removed her sorrow and made her happy. She's never known that sense of humor before, never since.

It ended just as suddenly as it had started.
Things had been different, if only for a split second.



"Oh no, I've said too much.. I haven't said enough"
- Losing my religion, REM.

tw.Tuesday, March 20, 2007

what is this we
we should be double u
why not u
progression good.
regression bad.
zee. we should be zee. the ultimate frontier.
zee are coming to pick you.
zee will meet you for coffee.
zee are going out right now, meet you later.

heh. when did it become a collective noun? :)



am i just another brick in the wall, he asks. she smiles and says, i love you.
he says.. you never answered. she smiles and holds his hand.
he says.. you never lie.. that's why you'll never answer.
just another brick in the wall.
just another episode in the soap opera that is her life.
just another apple on the tree.
just another expensive and pretty shoe on sale.
just another nailpolish color.
just another one of many.

really?

into the fire.
(not unlike the clay in the kiln)

fatso.Tuesday, March 13, 2007

5 inches. Increase. In waist line.
Very good, one would think.
Or very bad. Depends.
It gets worse, however.
5 inches. Increase. In waist line.
In a little over one week.
I don't understand.
My jeans are not fitting me.
Everyone is commenting on how 'fuller' I look.
I feel unhealthy and uncomfortable.
My tummy is sticking out.
And I'm slightly scared.
But food is yum :D

we'll always have semantics

i call you nursery rhyme boy and you remind me how you were once marlboro man for me. we start with the reds, to the lights, to capstan, to the acquired taste of cigars. the most randomest of topics, complete turnarounds, aboutturns. at just that moment, you whisk out your new motoslvr. new phone, i say. conversation and then some, i stand up.. my nokia falls on the floor. new phone, you say. i smile. i walk away.

i now know what humphrey bogart meant when he said..
"we'll always have paris"

and yes, pakistan's gdp is 6.4 percent.
just like the inflation rate was double digit..
but is now single. digit. that is.

passion frooty.

I am so much more of a person than anyone I know. very strange. I know. It is a very strange thing to say. I do not know how people can settle for less, I do not understand how they can not want to be the fullest person they can be. In my Graduate Directory, my Personal Statement is simple. Two words. I live. I do.

I am so much more of a girl than anyone I know. The makeup, the clothes, the gossip, the works. the pinks, the reds, the purples. The shirts, the shalwars, the jeans, th kameezes. The happiness, the sorrows, the laughs, the tears.

And at the same time.. so much more of a boy than a lot of boys I know. I can check out girls with more efficiency than boys :p haha. No. The cars, the power, the getting things done. The going out, the taking care of self, the taking care of others.

I just don't understand why people don't live.