Plagiarism too, by the way.
Multiportal, no less.
Sunday, January 7, 2007
Oh. Okay.
That was a motion (pun) to get more purgings.
Well,
giving you a hug is most useless.
So I'll just quietly listen.
(There's no policy that it has to be alternate yellows. It's doing so when you feel like it.
Then again, In the case of *you*, you just go on and not reply. And go beserk if I don't.
Means, you are beyond repair. And, that I'm not even going to try.)
Well,
giving you a hug is most useless.
So I'll just quietly listen.
(There's no policy that it has to be alternate yellows. It's doing so when you feel like it.
Then again, In the case of *you*, you just go on and not reply. And go beserk if I don't.
Means, you are beyond repair. And, that I'm not even going to try.)
Saturday, January 6, 2007
Guilt
Okay, dearest Darkling Thrush,
I have been a little too unprofessional, in terms of sticking to an unspoken protocol of alternate Yell(ow)s.
But, considerate arent you? I ripped the insides of an already empty cranium to come up things Imagination would be proud of. If only, that extended to writing non-medical too. Thats in the realm of sighness and bitter truths. Lets not even go there.
Its 4. I rant. I ramble. Rat-tle. And maunder.
Ptosis blurs what i write. Excellent excuse for coming up with the kind of crap, sadly, only i am capable of.
So,
lets breathe,
do a system reboot.
Good we do back up
(read, i read all your messages on the phone since the past month).
How have you been?
Now, you asked me that first.
So,
i have not been that good, horrendous exams notwithstanding.
i have not been that good, because...
narcolepsy has set in.
paranoia has happened off.
rani pink in all her glory has been a bitch, (with 'ulcerating teats, psoriatic skin, upturned-pudgy nose, wobbly knees and an i-define-loser attitude'.)
(Glory reminds me of a Dynam teacher in school, stout, fat and dark, who would struggle in heels and, like coincidence would have it, wore pinkest-of-pink lipstick)
(Used to hate her)
(there, she plagues even now; distracting and giving rise to unwanted shudders down an already ill spine)
Suffice to say, i have not been good.
And you know why.
As if innate pissedoffness were not enough, i had to augment it with reading a few blogs. Something i had consciously avoided.
Like on self-destruct mode, i did.
I did.
And i regretted.
Specially when there were flighty statements made about executions and Sammy foreign policy.(Sammy's dreamland saaku, makha.)
And then i read mine own.
Crescendo happened.
Full on, with sweeping violin choir going hysterical. The cellist's hand is a blur.
So, my own form of silly catharsis i desired.
Hence i purge.
Here.
(If you say, the toilet was a better option, i will actually laugh real hard)
.
.
.
And now, i have to come up with why i called this piece(of whatever) Guilt.
Lets see.
Hmmm.
Ho-hum.
Hmmmmm.
Hmmmmmmmm-er.
HA!
I am guilty of being stupid.
(Oh no, then i have to carry a tape player that says 'i am sorry' 24/7)
So,
what else
I am guilty, of killing your time.
Of successfully muddling your worked up brains.
Of bringing disrepute to yellowness.
Ayyo,
not no more.
Ta ta, moo moo.
Yours,
Ihaveofficiallylostitanddontwannaregainitwhatsoeverthankyou.
I have been a little too unprofessional, in terms of sticking to an unspoken protocol of alternate Yell(ow)s.
But, considerate arent you? I ripped the insides of an already empty cranium to come up things Imagination would be proud of. If only, that extended to writing non-medical too. Thats in the realm of sighness and bitter truths. Lets not even go there.
Its 4. I rant. I ramble. Rat-tle. And maunder.
Ptosis blurs what i write. Excellent excuse for coming up with the kind of crap, sadly, only i am capable of.
So,
lets breathe,
do a system reboot.
Good we do back up
(read, i read all your messages on the phone since the past month).
How have you been?
Now, you asked me that first.
So,
i have not been that good, horrendous exams notwithstanding.
i have not been that good, because...
narcolepsy has set in.
paranoia has happened off.
rani pink in all her glory has been a bitch, (with 'ulcerating teats, psoriatic skin, upturned-pudgy nose, wobbly knees and an i-define-loser attitude'.)
(Glory reminds me of a Dynam teacher in school, stout, fat and dark, who would struggle in heels and, like coincidence would have it, wore pinkest-of-pink lipstick)
(Used to hate her)
(there, she plagues even now; distracting and giving rise to unwanted shudders down an already ill spine)
Suffice to say, i have not been good.
And you know why.
As if innate pissedoffness were not enough, i had to augment it with reading a few blogs. Something i had consciously avoided.
Like on self-destruct mode, i did.
I did.
And i regretted.
Specially when there were flighty statements made about executions and Sammy foreign policy.(Sammy's dreamland saaku, makha.)
And then i read mine own.
Crescendo happened.
Full on, with sweeping violin choir going hysterical. The cellist's hand is a blur.
So, my own form of silly catharsis i desired.
Hence i purge.
Here.
(If you say, the toilet was a better option, i will actually laugh real hard)
.
.
.
And now, i have to come up with why i called this piece(of whatever) Guilt.
Lets see.
Hmmm.
Ho-hum.
Hmmmmm.
Hmmmmmmmm-er.
HA!
I am guilty of being stupid.
(Oh no, then i have to carry a tape player that says 'i am sorry' 24/7)
So,
what else
I am guilty, of killing your time.
Of successfully muddling your worked up brains.
Of bringing disrepute to yellowness.
Ayyo,
not no more.
Ta ta, moo moo.
Yours,
Ihaveofficiallylostitanddontwannaregainitwhatsoeverthankyou.
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