Showing posts from March, 2008



Exaggerate the high to belittle the low
Revel in confidence yet the fear grows
Force the smile to stifle the tear
Map thy future yet the past is unclear
Celebrate the blessing to ignore the curse
Saturated with thought but for ignorance she thirsts
A thirst for bliss
Seeking Something
That is


Tattered pieces of dream
Patiently fall
From the hopeful sky
Swirling, downwards
Spewed from the shredder
Called depression
Called expectation
Called failure
Billowing downwards
Downwards still.

No hope
Nor chance
To cheer
To redeem
Just blind acceptance
Of gravity
Of pecking order
Of the fall from grace
Just free falling
Downwards still.
At last.


So, here I am sitting at the library listening to Natalie Imbruglia, lamenting the days when I actually gave a crap about education and willfully drugged myself with caffeine and lost sleep over things like getting A's and nursing my transcript like some kind of crack whore hoarding her last fix. It's not that I don't care anymore, well, actually I don't. Ok, I lie, I'm far too neurotic to set my thesis on fire and join the circus just yet, but damn do I feel like I've been here too long.

Before this turns into a fully fledged Thesis Bashing Session. I will stop talking about how much of a complete waste of time devoid of "learning" kind of experience I feel this is. AND, I'm not lazy, I'm just incredibly un-interested. Really.

Instead, I'll turn my flimsy attention to the miserable souls that surround me in this library. Funny girl sitting across from me at the next table. Keeps stretching and making "hello, I know you" eyes at m…

Ti'eti'e pasi

I wonder about the girl on the bus. The one near the back, with the dark eyes and the tear stained face. She gazes out at ongoing traffic, a distant look on her tired face, a silent dispair shines in her eyes as wet streaks trickle from beneath her damp lashes. Her body is still, wilted and unaffected by the hustle and bustle of the awakening city around her. I wonder what happened to her. I wonder why the tears, so early in the morning and why the searching look in her eyes. Perhaps she lost a loved one, a grandparent, a friend. Or maybe it's a painful anniversary and she's reliving some regretable decision or some tormenting event in painstaking detail. I watch her, I can't help it. Her eyes are wrought with dark emotion, yet her body is listless, rigid in its nothingness. She blinks as a fresh batch glistens down her cheek and she sits motionless, expressionless except for those eyes. They're shameless in their feeling, loud and soulful in their dark song to whic…