They try; too hard.

A person minus her personality, that's all it was. So the only thing left to be attracted to was her body and the way she moved it, I suppose. This made me sad. A little bit.

K

I'd like to have said, thank God for radio, thank God for you. But I think I'll just stick to, thank God for radio.

Listen, listen and you will hear

www.purevolume.com/777

I like sunny days and how they make people feel better about life.

-Marianne

Some people give me a headache. You know the type that insists on doing those courses that they think will further them in life. The ones that don't mean anything at all. Those people. Yeah, those.

We both parted ways, the taxi driver and I telling each other that we were the most excellent of people.Thank you and goodbye.

The best thing to do would be to make her like me, but really I couldn't give a donkey's fart if she did or didn't.

It is only with one's heart that one can see clearly.

What is essential is invisible to the eye.

(Antoine de Saint-Exupéry)

He looks at her, she knows. She can see his reflection in the glass across the room. He doesn't know, she knows.

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.
- Moulin Rouge

Everybody loves a good twist of irony.


PS: Pi see you tomorrow.

He knows- his hand is as close to her's as it can possibly be.

She knows- it will never cross that invisible line that's been drawn between them.

..and silently I add, 'I hope.'

Who's the Disco Chick now?

I'd like to have said 'nice', but the only sound that seemed to want to come out of my throat was 'ugh'. So I settled for 'ok' in response instead.

losing, losing, lost.

His misguided sense of better than thou ness made him bait me and I felt only slightly sorry for him as I took the bait and hit him just as low as he had tried to hit me. It hurt. I could see it on his face. And as we walked out of the restaurant I smiled at him and said, 'Let's do this again sometime.'

She said that they wanted somone good. I think what she Really meant was, pretty.

He wanted too much. He wanted it all. And he could have had it all. If only he hadn't wanted it so.He never knew and I think he'll never know.

.. and all these little bits of unexpectedness; they make me happy. They really do.

Caught myself smiling quite a few times yesterday after work.

www.ryanlobo.net

Something as silly as..

It was nice to have heard his voice.

He was lying down on the floor I think, sleeping next to me. He half got up turned toward me pressed two fingers[his middle and index] vertically across my lips, and said, 'Did you do this to me and cross me? [ie. make the sign of the cross over him] Did you do this to me and cross me?'
It was M, and I was very afraid, surprised at myself, because it was M.

I woke up to see if it was true and I didn't immediately know where I was. But I looked to my left to see if he was there. Of course he wasn't. I had dreamed. But I was so scared. Scared to get up to switch on the a/c.Scared to move. I went back to sleep in the heat. Making minimal movements to ensure that my head and feet were covered.

All the girls, they grew into women.
And the boys, well they just grew into bigger little boys.

Fucking Amazing

I thought this was a joke when I read this in the paper the other day! No it isn't!! I found a picture as well. Here's the news first

The mayor of a small Austrian town has called on British tourists to stop stealing its road signs. Siegfried Hauppl, mayor of Fucking, says visitors come from nearby Salzburg to pose for pictures and, sometimes, to take signs home as souvenirs. “We had a vote last year on whether to rename the town, but decided to keep it as it is,” says Siegfried. “After all, Fucking has existed for 800 years. We don’t give it a second thought.” But some villagers are reluctant to say where they are from, an embarrassment shared by two other Austrian villages: Windpassing and Wank on the Lake.



The most frequently stolen traffic sign in Austria, at the entrance to the village of Fucking. The lower sign ("Please, not so fast!") is addressed to speeding drivers.


Courtesy:gtx2.net

Definition

Half boyfriend

A guy who is being used for sex and money. Not to be confused with 'friends with benefits'. In this case, the girl expects to be taken out to dinner, bars etc, but takes time off to hook up with other guys.

Girl: "you're like.. my half boyfriend"
Guy: "F that.."

courtesy: urbandictionary.com

When you wake, what do you normally think of first?

Lot's of people think of lots of things. But,

[At least you don't think: Is this pillow actually a pile of vomit?
or: JESUS!!! who is this really ugly naked person lying on me?
or: Why ere are my clothes and why is that bus pulling up beside me?]

-Marianne's mind :)

I don't usually take to children. In fact the only child I ever took to was Crystal Mariah. But there's this one little girl that's stolen my heart. She doesn't speak, I don't think I've ever heard her voice and so I don't know her name, but I know that she's seven. She showed me by holding up seven fingers, and I know that she likes jumping down steps, and that when she smiles, it's the most beautiful thing in the world.

The Boys Grow Up

A mouthful

I held her hand to help her down the steps and she heaped a mouthful of blessings on my head. I couldn't have got a nicer thank you.

The Boys

M, Fox, J-man, Luke

I realize that other people live just as much in their own little worlds as I do mine.

Satish and Me.

Puffy eyes and Genuine smiles [been a while]

Marlene and Me.

People scare me sometimes. They REALLY do. *wide eyed look while brain contemplates shutting down*

Multi layered.[pause] Why not? :)

A song for me :)

M and his new baby Grace/ Greeny Beanie/ Thug Thumper??/ or whatever it is you want to call her.

On those I know

The Chick:
A guilty conscience pricks the mind
Yet somewhere somehow you will find
That although somtimes you feel trapped
The human spirit does adapt
----

The Girl With The Accent:
You're pretty, you turn up the heat
You charm the pants off most you meet
You'll always be, yet in the end
My boyfriend stealing bitchface friend
----

The Song Writer:
You live your life the way you choose
Try so hard to make it work
Build your castles in the air
You'll make it someday meet you there
----

The Window Cleaner:
Convicted, yes, you've come so far
I back away from who you are
Yet when I'm sure no one will care
I know, I know you'll be right there
----

The Stranger:
Something less and something more
It's something that I just don't know
Still unperturbed, I'm glad that I
Chose to have ice cream and pie
----

The Other Sister:
Here's the frowny sister yeah
Antisocial as it were
But underneath that gruff extat
You're just a big ole pussycat
----

The Sister, The Best Friend:
I know there is an unsaid rule
That sisters can't be best friends too
I just ignore this minor point
Small things don't get us out of joint
----

On other things

On Boys:
They say they're happy; satisfied
With Pam or Jen or Susie
But want to hear me tell the truth?
They all want Big Boob Rosie
----

On Cheating:
They taught us all through Sunday school
This is not what you ought
But life it taught us differently
It said just don't get caught
----

For the women of yore- On Emancipation:
She stole them when he wasn't there
Quite done listening to his rants
She wears them now, what will he do
Without his smarty pants
----

On Overconfidence:
They went ahead all geared to win
They landed on their tusses
Because they lost the game you see
They're all big sour pusses
----

On Money:
They say money isn't everything
They couldn't get much cheesier
I'll take the green stuff anyday
Makes life a whole lot easier
----

On Sensitiveness:
His eyes they water up in hurt
Over a stupid gal
Oh stop, or else I think I'll gag
I'm sorry but I shall
----

On Marriage:
An octapus is on the bag
It's eyes so mournful staring
I wonder why that dormant look
Perhaps he thinks of marrying
----

On Bad People:
When someone something nasty does
To bring me close to tears
Fate does something nasty back
Like maybe jams their gears
----

Strange, Stranger

Poems for strangers

Constant thought please go away
I'd rather you wern't here
Come again another day
Perhaps sometime next year
----

As I was walking through the land
I found a boy to reprimand
I threw the boy over my thigh
And spanked him till I heard him cry
----

She said she wasn't nice at all
I took her at her word
I stopped going by to see her work
I think she is a turd
----

I met him on the plane he said
Over coffee let us two gather
I gave him my most disarming smile
And said, I think not rather
----

Sounds hoity toity on the phone
Her name, we call her Mary
But such a darling girl you see
She's Mary quite contrary
----

He stands a bit uncomfortably
I think you got the gist
She laughs at boys who inadverdantly
Get their knickers in a twist
----

..So I tell the little monster, see if you can say this like one word.

Hoof hearted ice melted

'Very good.' I say, 'Now try this.'

Heifer hearted hoos melted

'He stood lonely in the searching sunshine; and he looked beyond the great light of a cloudless day into the darkness of a world of illusions'
-The Lagoon, Joseph Conrad

I saw a picture just now. A funeral picture. The adults arrange their features enough to look suitably sad. The children however, who clearly haven't been taught better smile full fledged smiles for the camera. It isn't everyday that Grandma dies you know.

My sisters are hot air balloons

'We are not hot air balloons. We are contented people of some weight
and consequence.'

Said Joe in their collective defence. :)

Fifteen men on The Dead Man’s Chest-
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest-
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!


No prizes for guessing what book I just finished reading. :)

Oh what the heck, it’s twelve where you are.

For my other big sister.
Love always.

[Don’t ever stop missing me.And don't forget to hear the unsaid in the said. And I mean every sappy word of it. :) *distance hug*]

In Retrospect

She grew up my mother, speaking Konkani, Kannada, Tulu, and god knows what other languages. But she never spoke a word of these to her children. I find that odd. And I believe it was entirely intentional. But didn’t she realise that if we didn’t get caught one way, we were bound to get caught the other?
We grew up speaking English, English, and English. Even the maids spoke in English to us, our Mangalore cousins spoke in English to us, our grandparents didn’t speak to us at all and people gave us queer looks and said, ‘Don’t you speak anything but ? ’ And then gave us pitying looks with not a little condescension.
But in retrospect I think this is what she wanted to give us. She wanted to make life easier for us, not difficult like her’s was. She was thrown into an English medium college straight from a school that was ‘supposed’ to be English medium and was expected to do well.
We speak now ‘perfect’ English and our accents are relatively clear. We don’t make obvious errors in grammar maybe in spelling. We do try to remember that it’s lose and not loose. :)
But we lost didn’t we. We lost the chance to make fun of the mallus with them being right there and not understanding a word. And we probably lost other things like maybe, culture and maybe just being able to talk to you family.

If somebody was to ask me if I was Mangalorean, I’d probably say yes. But when I think about it, it isn’t really true is it? I don’t speak the language, I don’t know anything about the culture and I can’t cook the food.
The only things I know are that they have ranging from mildly to very insulting sayings for every occasion and that sea water and well water mustn’t mix. Another one of their loaded sayings.

[Thought dismissed]

Don't go to the monsters. Let the monsters come to you.

[And i'm not just talking about children.]

Swing Low Sweet Chariot

I was tiny. And I found a song book. With words and music. Oh yeah!.. pitter patter pitter pat.

Sing!

And he sang.

‘Swing lowwww, sweet chariotttt. Coming for to carry me hommmmme.
Swi ing lowww, sweet chaariottt. Coming for to carry me hommme.’


:)

Judgment without condemnation. Excellently put.
Justification? No. Just thinking aloud.
In between, should she try an extreme?
Singularity. A good thing I thought.

Good Luck

I was born in the desert. And maybe that’s why I was apportioned a part of the temperament of the desert. Harsh and unforgiving I seemed. Except here and there you would chance upon something which hinted at the idea that if you persevered long and hard enough, it would be worth your while. Again I make no promises.

I wasn’t always this way. Alright that’s a lie. I was and I tried to conform for a while but it was a wasted effort. So I stopped lying to myself and found a cd of Chris Rea and listened to Daytona instead.

The reason I stopped trying was as clear as the sky outside. That is to say not very clear. It was raining like mad outside and the sky was overcast. Exactly what I wanted my mood to reflect. But even that seemed to be doing the let’s be uncooperative routine and it did noting to improve my already chipper disposition. Sunshine and cheer. Bah! Was my personality changing somehow? Did I seem happier? I didn’t want to change. I liked myself fine exactly the way I was. This thought like most others didn’t hold my attention for very long and so I decided to think instead of a new and hopefully interesting personality that had happened to waltz into my life.

The charming if not handsome Watsisfaceagain. Watsi for short. Watsi was like a breath of fresh air after all the others. Because I was clean out of ways for lowering their too high expectations. It was getting to be less amusing and more tedious by the minute. Watsi however was different. He had no expectations. So I wondered, if he had no expectations, what the hell did he want? There was no winning with me. I honestly couldn’t figure what it was that he wanted. Did he want a new buddy? A pal? Unlikely. Although those were high on the list of wanted commodities these days. Well I wasn’t in the market for a pal on order. Hell no. I wasn’t in the market for anything. Should I go off and live on deserted island then? I asked myself. Nah, too extreme. Too much of a bother. So I decided that since I certainly didn’t know what I wanted, Watsi could do whatever the hell he wanted to and it would be fine by me.

There were some other things on my mind, like for example the fact that I was going to have to start caring about a certain someone. Not because I really cared. No sir. But because my innate good nature insisted that I did. It was like having a loosing argument with your self. Which only confused matters further, because if you had an argument with yourself and you lost, it meant that the other party [who just also happened to be you] won. How disagreeable this was all getting to be.

I remember someone as I try to recollect all the unsolved things that have thus far been swept under the beanbag which has been shoved under my bed.
I’m rather convinced that this one was dropped on his head as a baby. That’s the only way to explain the mad glint I sometimes caught in his eye. The glint to match that maniacal smile that accompanied it, which disappeared as soon as he noticed that I was looking. Well this one was none of my concern anymore so I chose not to waste any more energy units on him

Now here’s someone worth wasting energy units on. I watched you grow more and more disillusioned. Always convinced. And I wonder if I ever envied you your conviction.
There was that and also the fact that you seemed less and less inclined to see my point of view these days. This saddened me. Ok it didn’t really. But for both our sakes we’ll just pretend that it did.

The last solution deprived situation involved a princess, yes a princess. One who had climbed up on to a pedestal and was now sitting on it swinging her legs and looking bored. The only thing I can think to do in a situation like this is to push her off the pedestal when she’s not looking. Mad glint was probably waiting down ready to catch her. That would certainly have solved everyone’s problems

A conclusion, the story was screaming for an end. So I ended it. Twisted.

Virtue is more to be feared than vice,
because its excesses are not subject to
the regulation of conscience.
—Adam Smith

With Both Hands

Crab meat.

The only way to eat it.

*smacks lips*

The Great Man... is clolder, harder, less hesitating, and without fear of "opinion";he lacks the virtues that accompany respect and "respectability", and altogether everything that is the "virtue of the herd". if he cannot lead, he goes alone... He knows he is incommunicable:he finds it tasteless to be familiar... When not speaking to himself, he wears a mask. There is a solitude within him that is inaccessable to praise or blame.

Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power

Neither of us approved, but we both quietly kept our disapproval to ourselves because he had the one stamp of approval that mattered. Her’s.

and also

i must learn to look at the phrase 'salt to taste' in more realistic terms.

Something else you never thought you'd hear me say

Cooking. Not so bad.
Eating my own cooking. Not so bad. Really. [We’re not so sure about eating the unsupervised cooking though, but it’s a start.]
I have also gained new appreciation for the term, ‘slaving over a stove’

For my darling elder sister, a glass of long life milk is raised in your honour. A couple of butter dosas eaten in your honour too, eaten the only way to eat them. Straight off the plate :)

Love always.

Internet radio. Yipiee!

Something tells me to enjoy it while it lasts.

And in other news, you all should be glad to know that I'm done grumbling about being bored.
Sivan, the slightly emotional [he's Tamilian] cook, good soul that he is, is teaching me how to cook!!

K

Talking without talking

I know there's someone, somewhere, out there
Who's sure to find you soon
After the rain goes
There are, rainbows
You'll find your rainbow soon

[Adapted from, God knows where.. *corny smile*]







Sorry for being a jerk[don't realise it [tiny voice] most of the time].
And I guess,... that's that.

..and Monday night comedy saves the day :)

i'mgoingmadgoingmadmadmadhelp.


[this is in fact a cry for help]

Prayer to St. Jude [Patron Saint of Lost Causes]

Dear Jude, [I don’t really believe in praying to the saints, but I’ll let it go this time, given the nature of the request]
I’m not really sure what to ask for, but one of the following should do.
Please help me to learn to like my own cooking; I’m going to die otherwise.
Either that, or just make me a better cook and even if not that, perhaps a husband who can either cook or one who will learn to like my cooking, hopefully we won’t starve.
I remember once I asked God for wisdom. I’m wondering now, if it would be wise for me to stick to sandwiches.
I don’t really mean to be the sort that only comes to you when I want something, but I think I could use a little help here

Kiran


[I wonder where my ‘I Hate to Cook Book’ is]

Puppy Dog Tails

Brandi baby,

It makes me sad, a little bit, to hear that her enthusiasm has been curbed. That she is now well behaved and listens.
Brandi, my sister Joe’s [and of course Ninan’s] Labrador puppy came to live with us when she was two months old I think. And the first thing I noticed was that she didn’t cry the first night, like most puppies do. She was so happy she couldn’t stop wagging her tail. I love her, love her, love her.
She came to stay with us for a bit before my sister got married and was later to shift houses once she did. There was a lot of controversy about her coming to live with us in the first place. We live in a flat and there really isn’t place for a dog. And who’s going to look after her? Sure Joanne says she’s going to look after her, but who’s really going to end up looking after her, my mother wanted to know. What about toilet training and all that?
She came anyway.
She did all the things that puppy dogs are wont to do. She ate and ripped to pieces all the things that she wasn’t supposed to like the family [to be heirloom] Bible that Richard had specially got for Law, she ate the bows of my expensive shoes, which was pretty funny actually. I think that she only never touched my mother’s things. I suppose dogs can tell whom they can walk over and whom they can’t. [Is my usage correct?]
The hyperactive puppiness and extreme naughtiness aside, she had this zest for life, like she was just happy to be alive and she wanted everyone to know. It’s like you’re running, running as fast as you can on a hill.That’s green and has wild flowers, with a little bit of wind blowing through your hair and there's a smile on your face, just because you’re happy. That’s what she reminded me of. And then when she was all tuckered out [if that’s possible] she would plonk herself on my lap [even after she had grown too big to fit anymore] and fall asleep. Awww.
So now, it makes me sad, she’s all grown up and behaves like a lady. [Happens to the best of us]. And I know that this is something that has to be done, because it’s difficult, really difficult, and nobody really has the time or energy to manage a somewhat unruly Brandi baby.

For Caloovy baby,

I can’t tell you too much about girls. The only point in reference that I have is my self, maybe a couple of girl friends. But I have noticed this. All my girl friends, they’re really pretty. They are. But the boys they go out with. Ugly. Ugly as hell. It just reinforces my point. That a girl going out with a boy doesn’t have very much to do with how he looks. I’m not very sure about this, but I think girls tend towards boys who are in control of a situation, just a tiny bit dominating. It just makes it special for the girl when she gets her way, like she invariably does. I suppose to a large extent tallness, darkness, handsomeness would be handy things to possess, but there are always exceptions to every rule and sometimes in life [like french]there are more exceptions than rules.

k

[www.caloovy.blogspot.com]

gut wrenched

A little tentative about writing this,..Let’s see. You know, all the not so mind shattering things that happen but people don’t get to hear about them, simply because timings and schedules don’t coincide.

Another story :)
Title: The Lusty Wench

We were done discussing the tragic story of the best friend's life and it was about time to move on to mine. So. One step away from wallowing in self pity, I said it. I said what I was thinking. 'I’m never going to find my soul mate, even my hand says so. Bwaaahh.’[That’s the result of me believing for a second that what I say is true] The best friend comes over and dutifully puts her arm around me. I continue. ‘And worse, I don’t think I’m the lusty wench, I fancied myself to be. *sniffle* and I don’t even like cats, so I’m going to be old and alone and… cat less.
That hour must have been witness to the sorriest pair of wah wah cry babies ever.

Laughter that bursts forth. The smiles, unbelievably sweet. Never heard, never seen. You cannot put into words the unpromptedness of the moment. But I try, darn hard.

i wonder if she minds if i don't end it with love.

she must know that i do.

'Poem for Everyone'

I will present you
parts
of
my
self
slowly
if you are patient and tender.

I will open drawers
that mostly stay closed
and bring out places and people and things
sounds and smells,
loves and frustrations,
hopes and sadnesses,
bits and pieces of three decades of life
that have been grabbed off
in chunks
and found lying in my hands.
they have eaten
their way into my memory,
carved their way into
my heart.

altogether
- you or i will never see them -
they are me.
if you regard them lightly,
deny that they are important
or worse, judge them
i will quietly, slowly,
begin to wrap them up,
in small pieces of velvet,
like worn silver and gold jewelry,
tuck them away
in a small wooden chest of drawers
and close.
-- John T. Wood
1974

courtesy: www.jikku.blogspot.com

Grumblesville

If you’re a boy, you might as well stop reading about sometime now. I’m going to talk about [brace yourselves] ‘clothes’ and ‘shopping’

For a place that has SO many consumer items, you’d think you’d be able to just pop into one of the stores, pick up a skirt a pair of pants maybe a couple of blouses and be out of there. Tops, say forty minutes. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it? But nooo. You have to take one hundred things into account. If you manage to find something you like, you probably won’t find your size. It’s difficult to find clothes in a size six. Which is what I am. The starting, thank you very much will be a size eight. Anyway, the list of peeves goes on.
Annoyances aside, I did end up buying something. This blouse. It’s red. Not my favourite colour. But it suits. *sigh* Secondly it’s that horrid material that clings to your body. But it does flatter my frame. And thirdly the neck is cut in such a way that it accentuates my boobs, revealing but not vulgar. But then when was it ever advisable to wear anything that accentuates your boobs? Apart from that, bought myself another pair of heels la di da and another shirt, which I think is the decentest of the lot. Am going to have to find myself another camisole to unaccentuate my boobs if I ever want to wear that blouse. Drat. Till later,

K

some more scary shit

*slight intake of breath* damn i'm going to have to wake up and start paying attention

never thought you'd hear me say it

shopping.
hate it.

Candy
Is dandy
But liquor
Is quicker
-Ogden Nash


[thank you and of course. *biggest smile*]

something's wrong

i'm the one who should be saying thank you to you for caring, not you saying thank you to me for letting you care. i never understood you... [disturbed]

my feelings, usually justification for my actions. what if i can't find these feelings. then what?

We were sitting on the kitchen floor. Holding our cups of coffee with a little bit of Baileys. It was late. Early morning, in fact. It was one of the last conversations like that that we would have. She told me a story of love and lust, of deceit and betrayal. I could see hurt and guilt. More hurt than guilt. The only thing I said to her to assuage the feelings, was that everybody needs a little bit of drama in their lives. That little bit of hurt that never quite heals. We hold on to it and make it a part of ourselves. Letting it contribute just that much to the making of who we are. And we come out of it okey. We do. Imperceptibly hardened, but at peace with the world and ourselves.

a final parting of ways

but trust me

when i see you again, it will be as if i never went away

some people are too precious to miss.
- katherine george

Traces of a Memory

Evanescence is playing on radio. I remember a poster in a field. Musicians. Crowd. I’m upset and trying to hide it. But they can tell. They don’t push. Thank god. And I try to remember why and the memory changes. The phone rings. His name is Roger. Immediately my mind makes an unrelated connection. Roger. Roger’s sister Sarah. I nearly cry.

citrus and the window cleaner

He wanted to know if I was serious.

Of course I was.

I wanted to know if my weight would be a problem.

He said it wasn’t.

Perhaps.

He chose not to agree or disagree, effectively destroying any argument for or against the case.

Beautiful.

On cooking for myself

I'm the funniest girl in the world.

A man is a man only when he can be himself wherever he is.
- House of D

. 

A new book! A Beautiful Mind –Sylvia Nasar. And I haven’t watched the movie. Perfect.

At least there’s dinner to look forward to, with a darling cousin and possibly a somewhat cute [need to get used to the accent] boy, later on.

Patient.

Must I be patient?

All the willing in the world doesn't change anything.

I keep finding myself and I keep losing myself.








Ha [somewhat smile]

She worries about me….occasionally.



:)

I’m lost. I’m so lost. I purposely blow interviews off. When the interviewer is speaking to me, the only thing I’m thinking is, ‘when are you going to stop speaking, no this isn’t what I want to do. stop wasting your breath’ and the worst thing is that it shows on my face. And the thing is that these interviews are sure things. I will get the job, it’s all preset. The interview is almost a farce. If only I seemed a little more enthusiastic about it.
And I’m lost, because I don’t know what to do. And I think I'll just cry now.
Rubbish,I’m not going to cry. Bollocks to everything.

for a boy called Hil

“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest of places. To pursue beauty to it’s lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.”

Arundhati Roy [The End of Imagination]

I don't know if this trying to survive on full cream milk as opposed to actual food, is a very good idea.

I tell her that I’m sorry I didn’t call. She must be so busy; I wouldn’t want to disturb her.


She tells me that she’s sorry she didn’t call or invite me over. She’s been really busy.


Why the pretense? Neither of us really want to meet each other, but we will… eventually.

My first edible meal. Yes pasta. Maybe something a little harder some other day.
 

the worst i could give you is my disregard.
the worst you could do is make me loose my trust.

well what do you think. about the somewhat new look.