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Sunday, January 30, 2005

i'll die one day
and won't even notice
i'll just keep coming back from work
and watching TV
for eternity

which is what i get for not saying my prayers and being a dutiful non-neurotic daughter

Thursday, January 27, 2005

another why

i CAN write funny stuff as well
and a whole lot of other stuff

this blog brings out the the moaning meloncholy me
jut another thing about which to wonder: why?

Sunday, January 16, 2005

such is life

i write a thousand blogs a day in my head
complete with editing and formatting and everything

when i sit down in front of the pc
a million things crowding in my head

crows circling the bloody carcass of my brain
and nothing comes to fruition but these pustulent maggots

the dead woman called it poetic prose
as she proceeded to rip it to shreds
slicing off and chewing pieces of my soul with it

those were the good old days
i miss hating them
just like i know i'll miss the good life at home
when i have a whiny brat to live with and cherish and nurture till death do us apart

such is life
a mucus filled pustule
as beautiful and transient as a just-burst bubble
exploding into psychedelic fragments of memory

such is life

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

stripped naked

do i feel like i bent down
and someone got a glimpse of my panties
that someone got a glimpse beyond my panties

when at the same time the closet attention whore in me
revels in it

what is it about me
that always pulls me in two opposite directions
in everything

born in pakistan
worshipping the glossies abroad

born in poverty
aching jealous of the designer pajamas wearing best friends

born in luxury
ashamed for the dirty black little kids living in the disgustingly filthy quarters behind my house

felt self righteously justified when i complained
about the kids who stole my chocolates once

died a million guilt induced deaths
as they howled as their chowkidar dad beat them senseless

kept a secret part of myself
completely separate from the world

that even my frighteningly shrewd best friend for 17 years
doesn't know that part of me

that the attention whore in me loves the exhibitionism
that the everyday me feels like a dirty rude obnoxious bitch
for revealing the worst thoughts i think
and having people accepting them

liking them even