Its quite late now, as I sit to write. Perhaps not too late, but late enough. I didn't intend to write this evening -- and as I write, I'm wondering. Wondering why I'm still writing; now, despite knowing that I wasn't meant to write tonight. It's strange, I think, as I sit to write, on a late evening, with a mind that couldn't write, on not wanting to write, but still writing.
---------------------
So many things running on my mind -- perhaps like shadows falling on huge stones, before those dreary afternoons. Too many distractions. Too many unpleasant realities hovering around. It's all sorted though in a twisted sense. Will tell you when it comes into one story, albeit there's nothing to tell. Not even a Morality Play with Philip Marlowe in the end.
---------------------
Hmm... so what were you saying?
---------------------
So many things running on my mind -- perhaps like shadows falling on huge stones, before those dreary afternoons. Too many distractions. Too many unpleasant realities hovering around. It's all sorted though in a twisted sense. Will tell you when it comes into one story, albeit there's nothing to tell. Not even a Morality Play with Philip Marlowe in the end.
---------------------
Hmm... so what were you saying?
posted by jairaj at Friday, February 23, 2007
3 Comments:
i was saying .. is it late or not too late or late enough ? :P
cheerz !! :)
Too many distractions. Too many unpleasant realities hovering around. It's all sorted though in a twisted sense.
how do you do it?creep into my brain n steal wat im thinking n put it up here to earn the critical acclaim....humph!oh the plagiarism ! just means i relate to it.dazz al
yet anther nice post shining thru chaotic red and plain blue.
quite a soup inside that pinkish pulp called brain... nice stuff though!
Post a Comment
<< Home