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the girl next door  aishani. keisha. nat. “When I’m good, I’m very good, but when I’m bad, I’m better.” — Mae West. underline italic bold |
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gone with the wind September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 November 2010 |
for literature speaks
Sunday, August 15, 2010
I seek solace in words and phrases, hiding in the shadows of books and poems. I alternate between song and reality, finding it hard to extract myself from the intricate melody and soulful rhythm. I drift between crowds and loners, finding myself wanting to be both and neither. I lose my sense of momentum, and things start falling out of grasp, everything just tumbling over and over. I lose some treasured pieces, now destined to be nothing but fleeting scenes of nostalgia. I ponder over the smallest of things, but neglect what stands before me. I am guilty and troubled over what has become, but scared to venture the first step forward to correct it. I am captured by the promises of religion, but unwilling to let myself fall into it. I care too much about what others say, I mind too much about what they think, I know too much about what they feel. God, i feel like shit.