Friday, 21 November 2014

Open wide and say aah.

Beauty is all over the place, if you keep your eyes, and your mind, open to it.

Wednesday, 19 November 2014

Still single? No parroblaame.

Besides, it turns out that sex is a disease. Well, a diseases, to be precise. In fact, it appears that suffering from one of these diseases could very well lead you down a dark and very diseased road.

I am fortunate indeed to have escaped at least some of these diseases - I think. I may have bleahed foully a few times, but I'm pretty sure I've never had Pilsh, at least not with patches.

At my current age, though, I'm concerned I am now a high-risk candidate for Late Marraige. I wonder if oll this is a result of my many years of Improper Menstruction.

Thankfully, I have at least a few hundred rupees stashed away for just such medical emergencies, and as long as that van stays parked where it is, I have nothing to worry about.

P.S. If anybody knows what the symptoms of Paesent Nabje Chaek are, please let me know.

Monday, 17 November 2014

Still here.

I suppose his bones are dust by now. Why can't my grief be like that? It should have crumbled apart and settled into the dark earth that is my past. Why is it still here? How do I bury my grief? I carry it around with me everywhere, and it just won't die.

People die so easily. No matter how, that final moment, that very last moment when they pass from life to death, is so simple and straightforward:  they're here, they're gone.

Why can't grief die, too? I want to sentence my grief to death. I want to murder it savagely or mercifully, but quickly, but I don't. I carry it around with me everywhere, like a corpse that will not rot.