so, i blow the dust that has gathered here.
and i'll sit, and wait.

in the meantime, i will watch the world,
from my tiny place on a vacant parkbench,
by a busy, busy road,
infested with busy people,
touching two ends of a busy world.

and i wait,
wait.

for a warm shoulder
to throw itself by my side,
and say,
whatever happened to our soliloquy?

see?

i do all the posting here. all the better ones. actually, ALL of them.

*giggles*

see, a better joke this time.

Aww.
Paapa.

You are graduating?
You will wear saree?
You will wear makeup?
You will?

You will?

See, i am only curious,
where am i making fun?

why do i even bother.
really.

i should quietly take my box,
put away all my little things,
and go.

and just quietly listen to all the (bad) jokes.

go on. get cracking.

Strip baby.
Strip.

i'm graduating today.

Early morning radio.
Bad kannada.
Badder(sic) english.
Bladder troubles.
And,
Himesh Reshammiya.
With,
Shakalaka lakalaka kakkakakka boom boom.

That one does.
So pisses me off.

trivializing things.
oh yes. that pisses me off.

faar you?

So tell me

What is the one thing that pisses you off?

oh. like that!

okay.

On why you can't be angry with me

Because i am just too good ya.
Just too good.

i wish i could be angry with you,
long enough.

pah.
oestrogen is too forgiving.

because i'm so super cool yo.

heehee.

Something to reply to you say.
Lets see.

Why did you get your nose pierced?

the thrush has nothing to reply to.
that's why.

so, thrush will take it as a hint to shut up.

The weltschmerz going mute is understandable. You know, depression and shite. (The Iraq war was unjust)
What requires brow-raising and hairtearing-thinking is the Thrush shutting up.
Whyever.