abhineeta6
As I entered the building, I could think of nothing but keeping my head down and get to the back of it. A shinier world was beckoning me, but I wasn't even willing to part with the tenner in my back pocket. No. Colour, price tags, bar bills would be paid for by other people. I would only pay with sweat and blood.
Dear Noun/adjective that has so much potential but doesn't know what to be, you don't need to know. You'll be picked up and used over and over until you're made redundant. Just try to find out who's economy you live in.
Let's light a match and hold it against a tall yellow candlestick. Only to behold a monument of wax and not to let it melt away. Because you think that the candle's decay is irreversible. Such wax is life.
Lost addictions and abilities cripple you in your new life so much that the craving, though beyond the fortress of yourself will only then knock gently on your door and enter like an old lover, the mistake you still don't want to make again.
The two inches beyond my fingertips in the morning where you don't exist yet, but make my body tingle and my heart ache anyway... like THAT. The endless vacuum that is so vast inside my small body, which like a needle to a balloon will one day prick. On that day in my universe, a big bang, and your arrival.
Like equations? Like conjuring? Can you derive a relationship between two people if you so engineer their proximity? Can beautiful things be abstract and scientific? Can you derive sense from the universe? Or does the universe derive you from material?
If only I could walk down the tree lined road this cloudy day, unwary of who might see and wait for the skies to open up and pour all over me, drenched to the bone, raindrops stinging my skin as it showers. If only.
Not something that I expected to find and it was quite unconventional. But I had to buy the unique blended art so lovingly patterned upon the fabric. We are far too lost in the commercial and the polished brightness of manufactured perfection.
But behold. Someone, a he or she, with their loving hands made this and sent it out into the world.
Are you serious? This is what you want me to write about today?
Okay, without invoking painful memories, I'm just going to go ahead and talk about Sudhanshu, my dance instructor. His name literally means "a drop of moonshine", there you go, I even modified the vision for you.
I'm not one to have meta-discourses of the thoughts that I have. But I suppose I do it too, even if not overtly. Girlfriends are your accomplices in such crimes against your own mind. But what would one do without them, anyway?
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writing since 2012 · 39 entries · 39 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Abhineeta showed up.
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the words Abhineeta reaches for
nowhappylivereadheartsceneanywaydustchecktalkfuckinggoldhandsmindderiveuniverse