It was another long day. Tiring and heavy. Got up early, roamed around the city for stuff. Came back home with my arms screaming and feet cursing. But.. I don’t mind. It was not so bad. Kind of fun when you take it as a journal in your brain and write as the smoke from the vehicles streaks your lungs.. =P
I am back home now. I have washed my face and freed my feet. I am leaning back and am breathing deep. Vacant. I am vacant. But not sad or unhappy. That counts. That counts a lot
I was reading Robert Frost on my cell last night, after reading a chapter from The Vampire Lestat (Anne Rice). It was so calm. Sitting deep into my sofa. Switching the lights off. Mom with her folks in the hall. I have nothing to say. Really. I am blank. And I just wanna hear someone talking and I would just listen and listen and listen and blend in the darkness and vanish. I have never felt like this.. And the dreams have turned strange too..
Anyways.. Last night I was listening to Josh Groban and talking to people in my head. I just know that it’s going to be so hard for me to fall in love. Just a stupid thought. I know how to block my feelings. If I die.. My body won’t be there in the tunnels.. nor at the bottom of a cliff.. it would be on a shore,
I trust the waters you know.. I trust the winds that blow to and fro…
The heart can think of no devotion
Greater than being shore to ocean –
Holding the curve of one position,
Counting an endless repetition.
(Poem: ‘Devotion’ by Robert Frost)