There's nothing on my mind now.
Nothing.
You say "nothing" but you're just saying it.
But i seriously mean it.
Really...
Fine..
Everything's a..
Blur...Haze...Fog.
Void... and then come those FLies.
Damn.
I like to take photographs again.
I like to play the guitar again.
I like to listen to jazz.
[The concert was too good
Watching Hancock and Shorter was like a dream come true]
I like to sing again.
Recently I've been singing the third verse of the School of Rock Song over and over again.
You know the part where the black girl "Tamika" sings her solo..
I love singing that part.
I dont like singing for other people.
I like to sit in the balcony when my parents are out.
Do you feel miserable for no specific reason?
I do.
All the time.
Its a really horrible feeling.
I felt like that some time back. Still am, a bit, but it has died down a bit.
I snap at everybody around me when I'm like that.
I dont like being that way.
But its the only way people at home leave me alone.
Now that..I like.
I dont like justifications all the time.
Damn i love the Blues.
Soul Music.
I never understood "The Hermit and the Rose".
Never.
Not now.
Not ever.
The sight of the light- blue book makes me depressed.
heh.
Da dum da dum da dum.
Water-Melon Man...ta ra ra ra...
I love that song.
Thats the song they ended the concert with.
The members of the Thelonious Monk Institute of Jazz are as good as Hancock and Shorter.
I wanna be good too.
yeah.huh.
ok.
So
A friend of mine wrote a story about a Butcher.
It was a fabulous story.
It began with a quote.
I like the quote..It went like,
"The whole reason the Butcher existed was because he was a parody of all of us. He was a disintegrated shape of things that had happened, and things that were to come. He was a parody of the system. He butchered nobody. We butchered him"
~ Detective Sergeant, Pinkerton, refuses to give his name, Saturday, November 15, 2001.
And i said
There's nothing on my mind now.
And look what was on my mind...
Yeah i'm like everybody as well...
Nothing..Everthing...
Its all the same.
Aint it?
[Photo: Taken on an exceptionally cold but sunny afternoon in the balcony]
***********
7 comments:
ok look.
im commenting on this post but i dont know what to say.
i have been waiting for this thing to say 1 comment for some reason which i dont feel like explaining now so im not but you know it anyway because you do that too. but it has remained zero.
and that is very sad.
so ill say watever comes to my head.
i hate you when you feel miserable for no specific reason in school.
i feel like shaking you HARD and strangling your head.
like you know grrrrrrrrr...bhum bhum bhum.
but then its ok.
i also know.
i like school of rock.
you have been singing that song over and over again but you give me bad look when i sing with you.
reason i know.so its ok.
i like dancing in eco class.
i have chemistry when you lit in eng.
scistu.
i like the scistu written on my diary.
looks good.
i want to go to the jazz concert again.
i want my brain to shut up.
I missed the concert, I mean the one with herbie in it.
Im sad.
and thats an excellent photo.
the only reason i'd go back to school ever is the 4 of u and debi m.
then i cud do stupid things and you could laugh at me.
well, no actually, you never did that.
anyway.
bye
verrry good.
blogger has finally allowed you to put up things on the sides.
p.s..spelling of phoceicates is wrong.
Everything's a..
Blur...Haze...Fog.
Void...
i feel like that poften.. i like tha feeling..
love school of rock....
i know wat u mean wen u say u feel despair for no reason...i've felt it too...i'd written a poem once about it thought i'd share it with you...
when moments beautiful enrapture the mind,
when envisaged rendezvous ceaselessly impress,
a blanket of disturb clouds the confused mind,
with icy fingers that claw from within,
with cold eyes and questions sans answers,
ypu ponder and question for a reason why,
was it her tears you were missin ,
were it those years left lagging,
were it those dreams that sing crash and burn,
clueless you run through a tunnel sealed tight,
then a knock from somewhere senile,
you open the door hoping its worth the damn try,
only to hear the world shouting out high,
shut up bitch and drown the whisky dry.............
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