Sporadically, my random spurts of writing are rudely interrupted by real life. Work is gritty these days.

( Kite has a terrifying new vocation. )

And, quietly, so very quietly, our people sleep on the roads, not like beggars, but like gods filled with too much champagne to fly home. They are like beggars, though, in a way, with silver coins split and shiny in their palms, currency for dinner, dresses, white spots where their hair used to be; and all this time, too persistant to flag my eyes ( Read more... )

I am writing a science fiction story about a shrinking world, a beautiful girl looking for her lost lab partner and villains called Paladins.

how many people will I know by the time I'm sixty? how many vultures will peck at the shadow of my footprints, eroding on so many inconsequential shores? and how many of those vultures will ascent to valhalla when the heavens call them back? what will they say then, whose blood will swirl in the absence of their bellies?

( and the forgotten heat? )

ad_infinitum_, I will really miss you if you never come back. Write me sometime, okay?

I study the geography of the human body without being able to take apart the phlegm from the loculi of my pharynx, without being able to discern the yellow of mourning from the yellow of sputum. An ulcer, a civilisation of politically-astute bacterium conduct post mortems on the roof of my mouth, even as I douse the fires of rebellion with water, ( Read more... )

If you have a spare life anyday:

Watch
1. A la Folie Pas Du Tout [HE LOVES ME HE LOVES ME NOT]
2. Moulin Rouge
3. Dead Poet Society
4. Being John Malkovich
5. Pirates of the Caribbean

Read1. Immortality by Milan Kundera ( Read more... )

In a dark world, the price of light is forty thousand dollars, the price of four hundred and fifty prostitutes, or a seat in government. The people who rule are blind, can you blame them? They feel money with their fingers, speak empty words about the future, and dream of love in terms of red, green and blue. I hold the only light bulb I know to my ( Read more... )

One day, I will take a lift to the sixteenth floor and propose to my neighbour. But for now, I'll distract myself quietly.


( Read more... )

There are two parts to the tale:

I.Raw
II.Relished

Why don't we run in opposite directions?I am always in a concentric circle. That is not to say I am in its centre- that would not only be arrogant, it would be untrue. Neither am I talented, spinning, orbiting; I have no spare change to buy motors, flying license, aspirin; no credits to merit ( Read more... )