the blue box

how do you seek attention?
wrestling with the shadows of pride. and common sense.
holding up the apparently, callously made self.
wishing someone would see through the veils of egotistical self-preservation.
at red bus-stops and slouched on floors.
through crackling words at the other end.
on the grey and green nights.
beyond the echos that have become commonplace.
casually raising my hand. even though i know im not tall enough for anyone to see me.
is it possible to feel so small?

i procrastinate. a lot.

port wine in a plastic glass. laundry smells. crumpled blue-green-red-yellow. lead scribbles. compulsive dialling. raised eyebrows. blue showers. powder dipped fingers. unflattering elevator lights. red spots on brown dots. broken umbrellas. errand boy errands. expectant eagerness. rejection? flawlessly naive hope. parenthesis. cuticles.

yellow post-its piled on glossy screens. date diaries. red plugs. a double chin. empty letters. scars. the ones on skin.

lies. attention. mismatched socks. the lemony-green striped ones. trips i may never make. take?

what if's down a blue carpetted corridor. carpetted with a single t?

conversations. of boxes. little boxes on the hillside. or with lager.

and because grey relationships have yet to not puzzle me. and the thump. somewhere below my left foot.

note to self: permanent press, the next time.

Letters and Y

Y. who i adore. Of emails exchanged.

From/to she who makes sense of garbled words and more:

....Kinda numb to the world. Have lost my way. Looking for the light. Or even the tunnel. The tunnel through which i could express my feelings. Now its either lip bitting, throat lumping swallowing of emotions or outbursts from time to time...
***
rationality and irrationality are relative, right?
***
i think its about kicking a habit. its about filling up the spaces that are so easily and obviously filled... you'll find your mojo soon
***
i am going to hold my head up... and hope that my smile makes me stronger.....
***
you?!
***
i feel like a stupid, bimbette, jealous, dumbfuck..
***
im in this wierd time warp now. where time fuckin slips past and im left tired, but ironically with little done. time spent with you whirlpooled exactly like that.
***
: ) its strange how im reading this mail '0 minutes' after you wrote it!!!...yes, I do wish I had more calm time with you...dont fixate on being fixated!!!!
***
i wana dig a hole nw!!!
***
love you to grain-sized pieces!!!
***
i think im pms-ing or maybe im just stupid. show me the light!!
***
muddle is muddle becomes clear then muddles again...
***
the liberating paunch
...It had gotten comfortable somewhere in between the sunshine, and the familiarity; somewhere during the time when I started to let go...
***
stop calling me auntie...i detest it as much as babe!

sublime

...maybe I should give in. to the moments of silence. of the three thousand and twenty one seconds I spent staring at the computer screen.
maybe I should give in. to the moments of weakness. of the songs that I overplayed. of the mails that were re-read. of gmail dependency issues.
maybe I should really give in. to the moments of wanting to be pampered. to be seen through.

A mail from M made me realise today that unlike my "vehemently constructed self" my blog
"reeks of 'sappiness' and want". It is true. Like the very love letter I found on a random google search, and passed around while I should've been writing on critical discourse analysis - a lot of posts did want to make me hurl. But then again, I have my moments.

Lines from the letter I liked:
I have a thousand images of you in an hour; all different and all coming back to the same...
...I think of you eating omlette on the ground...I think of you against a skyline...

Rupert Brooke to Noel Olivier, 1911

I really do like the mundane.