confessional pt 2


The happiest day


i drink teh tarik in the morning and read the newspaper

the sun is gently shining,

the house is quiet but not silent

a good book

writing a script


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Sock and a half

i hated your smile crooked white on black straight teeth wavy walk almost gone but almost not it's a good look for a bad person. your absence when i just wanted your love i dont know what u want tell me or not, ignore ignore me fall in love with her. i bet she has a nice slim body which you dream of, her no ass but tits galore i bet you love her or think you do but guess what i loved you too' with my jungle rage passion and my commitment and its not entirely you im angry at its me for letting you do this to me i hate you i hate the you i liked touch her in your dreams in your sleep awake i dont know why i expected any different why do i like you even through hate i hate this feeling good bye fuck you its fucking over
Read more

Migozarad

Image
" Chun migozarad baki nist"- A Farsi saying It is okay because this too shall pass. I feel the voice echo in my head, stupidly,  bouncing around with absolutely no meaning because I have caused this tragic incident. Kabul before and after. I read this phrase when I was reading the 'Bookseller of Kabul', I think it was inscribed on a teahouse in Kabul. It was an excellent book, one of the kinds that make you realise your life is amazing. Self-reflection upon brown, yellowed pages. Graciousness reigns. Yours, Maneesha
Read more

A Faraway Loving

How then, and why, suddenly, in this faraway land with four seasons and different spellings, did I long for the humid, tropical jungle of home? It was hard to explain- it was not exactly homesickness, but more an acute sort of love. Very painful and deep in the sewers of the heart, it came unbidden and unannounced inside your soul and mind. It was not that I remembered the jungle particularly well, or even liked it. On the contrary, it was because I had disliked it so much- that vile greenness, the sticky muddiness of the soil and humid festering inside the claustrophobic space, that it had imprinted upon my malleable and impressionable mind and represented to me, home. I began to crave spicy things and began to act very carefreely when I was around other Malaysians. There was a certain comfort to being glib about serious things when you are in the company of your countrymen and women because there exists an invisible shield about you that allows you simply to be. The cultivated Amer
Read more