mehh
i could expand a million words, but it’d all come back to the same thing. :)
another one of those, not.
ordinarily i hate going at length, any length, about my day, and i’m pretty sure nobody finds that sort of shit tolerable. but then you do get days that are so incredibly bad that it just has to be chronicled, for posterity, to satisfy the sadists that lurk in all who read this page, or is that just myself maybe, but oh boy do i know that sort of day too well.
today:
vaguely understanding crabwalk – :)
book shopping – :):)
arsenal and liverpool drop points – :):):)
a quite perfect chelsea win – :):):):):):):)
spent the best part of half a day with my HREO – :):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):)
then of course sometimes you have the really good kind of day, which even less people want to read about because it then reminds us all of our normal lives. how’s your day? shrug okay lor. well at least i’ve been as forgiving as i can with the details.
—————————
if only you’d see the part you play in all i try to be.
you’d begin to comprehend how much you mean to me.
it’s like a book elegantly bound but, in a language that you can’t read just yet
Hello it is me hoho
hahahahha roar oj
ohohohohohohoho oh oh
this is the pat yime
Gibr im ot ght
Ar the anges ar debils
vrawling im
Osee
See the pain in youB
Oh yrah
De,omsd will talke ti,e
Will rakw
Amgls they nrum gor us
Arr w ever
Ar wr fly
Nurm imside of us
Dpwmwwwwmnnn
All
Tje yihms
If we give it up tOmihjy
Lasxt omeast
Vo
Cooooo(oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh gonae voooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
—————–
:):)
in xanadu did kubla khan
“this is perfect.” and his voice had a finality in it. his gruff voice resounded against the lonely walls, his vision unquestionably inspired. he lay down his blueprint, in determined mood. he will start tomorrow, for it is sunday today, and thus he has declared today a day of rest. and tomorrow, he will build, ex nihilo, a most stately pleasure-dome that will be for himself and his love.
i glance at the blueprint. he has had everything covered. the porch. the vast verandah. the elaborate balustrades. even the glittering night sky that will perpetually eclipse it.
all he has is a pack of cards.
woke up and for the first time
my cave is deep,
but your light keeps shining through.
i close my eyes,
but all i see is you.
hey boy, try not to despair.
fill my life with song
i finally gave up the fight. and let the words that were causing pandemonium out. words that were circling around the tip of my tongue for what definitely felt like longest time, and which i had drawn strength from various false sources to suppress. till now. and in perhaps the most uncryptic words ever to appear upon the face of my blog, “yes, i love you”.
big implications of those small words aside, i beg you don’t run away from me. i know it’s not easy. nothing ever to do with love is. ‘love’ is a difficult concept, not unlike modernism. it’s flaky. it’s fragmented. and so are people. put people in love and you have a doubly complicated mass of unspeakable ideas.
but i will be here till you bid me gone. and i will walk only at your pace. as far as you’re concerned i’ll never run out of time, patience or a sweet gesture. i hang on a diamond tether. may nothing change between us, for i am before anything else still your friend.
as we are now, as we have always been, you light up my life.
:)
