Monday, December 28, 2009

Stories of shooting stars.


Day One.

I think I'm glad you're gone. You were the one who sent the last email saying you'd be away for a while which doesnt even make sense, but you need to want me more than you seem to and I think you don't so you don't deserve me. I'm smart, I'm beautiful and I'm sure as hell wanted. So I can't deal with your bull crap anymore. Good riddance. You're impossible, anyway. I don't know how that was why I loved you in the first place.


Day Two.

Remember how you agreed to finally watch New Moon with me? Well, guess what? I dont need you anymore. I went and saw it on my own today. Granted, I had to buy my own tickets and stand in the queue for my own popcorn and I could not remember which popcorn we usually had so I ordered something else which turned out to be pretty disgusting. The couple sitting next to me were holding hands and I could throw up on them and then I remembered your loathsome sardonic smile as you would look at me stricken in the cinema, feeling the hurt of people who didn't exist. And I especially hated the way you threw you arm around my shoulder as you pulled me close and the way your nimble fingers fitted so perfectly between mine.

I saw Edward leave Bella and I cried. I saw him propose and I cried more.

I made a complete fool of myself in a hall full of people because the soppy little vampire high school romance and total chick flick reminded me of you. I went home full of self-pity and a lot of hatred for you.


Day Four

I told myself that going to the places we used to eat will not hurt. I told myself it was immature and unreasonable. So I walked down Fleet Street, put in too much broccoli in the salad bowl, avoided the spring onions, and had the usual garlic oil, prawns and noodles combination.
"Extra spicy," I found myself saying
"Just one today?" The Jamaican chef smiled.
"Just one today." I repeated blandly.
Idontmissyouidontmissyouidontmissyou.

Then why does this hurt?


Day six and we're not talking.

Today I got lost in the streets of London. The tube stations were closed and I didn't know which bus to take. It was dark and deserted, there were men with their caps hanging low on their faces. People get mugged. People get raped. The streets had alien names. Technically, you weren't mine anymore so I could not call you. Like you were much of a phone-person anyway.
"Try to think how you got here," you'd say if you were reasonable- which you weren't.
Got on a wrong bus, walked a couple of miles in the wrong direction, that was a no-brainer.
This wasn't helping. And I was scared because I didn't know what to do because you had spoiled me.
I know what you would have said.
"Are you out of your fucking mind? I told you to never NEVER wander out on your own in the dark.."
But in the dark it's easy to pretend and I needed you off my mind.
"..Look for the nearest Mc Donalds or Subway or any other fucking place to eat and ask them for their post code. I'm coming for you.."
You were always coming for me, there for me.
"And don't you dare hang up the fucking phone till I fucking get there."
I hated hated HATED how you swore.


I took a cab home that night. Fortunately and unknowingly, a black cab and it cost me two days worth food allowance.
You'd have flipped out just for that. You know how that story goes.
"You took a fucking cab? Do you know how many people get raped in illegal cabs!! Why do you do this to me?"
You would have thrown things around screamed at no one in particular then have gotten mad at yourself. You're disillusioned, paranoid, excessively overprotective and also usually right.

I came back and cried.


Day Nine.

Why can't you just stay in my past?


Day Thirteen.

Just. Come. Back. I'm barely breathing.



You're all these amazing things on one hand and on the other, you have no realistic goals, no ambition. You're self-destructive. And then you smoke up. And you do drugs. And you say you love me and you love me right and you get me and you know just what to say and you know just what to do.

You've held me throughout but that does not make you good for me.
Work for me.
Dream for me.
Marry me.
Have children with me.
Have a life with me.
Grow old with me.


But we don't seem to have a future together.

Is that enough reason to let you go?

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Of all the songs we ever shared..


"Baby i've been here before
I've seen this room and
I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the Marble Arch
But love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah"


In dusty corners, let your names depart. Rub their jagged ends together and then despair when they don't fit in.
Add another burden onto your Scales of Balance. Grain by grain.
Wait for the one last Judgement. Account for that sin you committed willingly and knowingly.
Who have you wronged this once? Whose heart did you break now?

"I won't cry now, the insiders are free to leave
And I feel at peace with the flood still waiting
I created these worlds, one by one, word by word,
If there was a song that could destroy them all
Why should I sing it now that I'm all alone?

I was warned but now that my time has come
Please let me drown just one more time
Before the Dawn."

Remember that night when she lay there crying because of who you had become? She wasted away because you were dissolving into yourself in oblivion. You talked of black holes and infinities that will never exist. All she asked for was a glimpse of your realities. But she must never know because your realities are just not real.

Remember that night when she lay there crying because she could not comfort you the way she wanted? That day, when you saw them die and came back in a delirium. When you came and your hands touched and your souls meshed. Your blood flowed into her. The whites of their eyes never left you, not for a moment. Their mouths were ajar, the ghosts of their last screams frozen on their faces.The entire world decayed.

You were raving mad that night, she belonged to you and yet you didn't. You lay on her chest, stifling scream after scream. If only you had cried in the night. The fissions in your mind were solely yours. But she was the one who lay there crying.

She lay there crying because of things you never said.

"When your lonely heart has learnt its lesson
You'd be hers if only she would call
In the wee small hours of the morning
That's when you miss her most of all"

Land, blood, a people, they separate you.
Remember how your breath formed mint on hers. Trace out concentric circles on your palms.
Tall cities bred a physical love in its hidden corners.

There's nothing perfect about this.

"So don't ask me what I think of you
'Cause I'm not your kind
Write down all those little things I do wrong
That bring a stain to my eye

'Cause you build a thousand walls..."


She sat in her cellar, smoking the days last cigarette, not crying this time. The greys of smokey eyes lay smudged on wads of tissue.
Sometimes for her, you don't exist.

You, who think all stories are about you.

"And you can have it all,
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt.."


In dusty corners, let your names depart. Rub their jagged ends together and then despair when they don't fit in. Despair because they will never fit in.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Your scent is all I have of you.

1.

"You can't forget, you can't forgive how I told you last time I saw you. It wants to make you cry, it wants to make you swear. I want you to know, every hour, every day I spent with you was forever. My mind goes astray, I swear it would be forever. I'm just awaking with the dusk on my eyes. I didn't give anyone else a love like this. Let all the clouds sing of my illusion. From a sky now it's turning blue. Keeping my smile safe, when I'm dying inside. And I can't forget, and I can't forgive how you kissed the pulse on my neck. Last time you loved me. It wants to make me die. It wants to make me bleed. I want you to know. I want to disappear, here in these words. I need you to know."

Klimt 1918 - Just an Interlude in Your Life

I love these lyrics. Thought I'll share them with you.
I'm inspired by the shape of Rickshaw. It's going to be my new building.
My mum would murder me if she finds I caught cold.
Stupid evening, if you don't want to talk, tell me soon, I'm going to fuck a tree trunk awaiting you.
You and your aliens from Saturn can go to hell. :p
And alot of other stupid things I want to yell at you.
Fuck depression, live happy. Lol.

2.
In self-exile, another page turns.

I was trying to fix my hair, and then I'm drunk with speechlessness, leaving sweet imprints of destruction.
There's no reason to smudge it over.
The lyrics you sent me last night, made me cry.
Another towering city, black boots and black coats.
Can someone commit such a sin, that God cannot forgive him?
Imagine having your miseries photographed.

Mistletoe, he explained. Mistletoe.
"Merry Christmas dahlin', don't want one of these unscrupulous lads kissing you."
Another page turns.
They were always running and yet they never had any time.
You can't leave me. I let the flowers wilt in the open. I'm not the only one.
Watch me.

Do you want me to orbit you?
Another page turns.

Paper cut.