Stuff I post. It is a stream, sometimes conscious, sometimes subconscious and sometimes unconscious.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Experienced
My mother got my schoolbag out and emptied it in front of me. What spilled out on the floor amongst all the random bits of paper that appear from nowhere and the pens that you thought have been stolen, were:
1) A quater of whiskey, a little empty
2) A lighter
3) A matchbox and a whole bunch of loose matches
4) Around 8 odd decks of cards
5) Not in the whole mood of the situation, but my literature book
6) A copy of JAM
Use your wildest imaginations to guess what followed, and you will still fall short and be drastically wrong.
I guess I will just post a poem I wrote in anticipation of what I would do in these vacations...
Experience
The sheer bloodymindedness
That you've felt all along
Nothing but your conscience
To tell you you are wrong
Reduced to nothing
But a sensation whore
No logic, no reason
No explanation before
You convince yourself
That the pain wont last
But you spend a future
Haunted by your past
And then do things
They never allowed
Just look at yourself
And laugh out loud
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1 comment:
no logic no reason ...
they r figments of your education...they dont actually exist...
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