27 April 2013


What is wrong with you?

It was silent.

The water doesn't drip, the trees don't fall and create minuscule shavings to be blown away.

Buildings don't crop up like warts on the smooth plastic surface.

You're hollow.

You globular piece of educational mishmash.

Nothing on you.

The papers overlap. Some cities go off the map.

Ridges on watery distances.

Things don't matter.

What is right with you?

9 April 2013


The act carried this undeniable feeling of unescapable ugh-ness of sitting through an unskippable YouTube ad. The unavoidable unease of most things in life. Go through the motions and sit back to be exhausted and undone. 

She rubbed her eyebrow absetmindedly, scratched the raw skin of her bare neck, red and slightly sore. Then soothed it, scratched her head and coughing needlessly. As images passed before her eyes she thought of the subliminality.

Pondered upon the processes.

Riffs and tones bounced upon the drums of her ears. Ululations seeped inside her brain. Sleep was asleep.

Bass banged upon the doors of dreams. Festooning upon the faint familiarity of it all, all was forgotten.