Sometimes I write. This is a place for such times. Honestly writing doesn't come naturally to me. Nothing does actually. What I am passionate about is doing nothing in particular, thinking nothing in particular.
But sometimes I read. And sometimes I like it too. And I like reading what I write when sometimes I manage to. Perhaps that is why i write.
Fled from Past the streets of creation. Along asphalt paths Till the black air And it rained light. Korou Khundrakpam 5/01/09
the kiss of the wrong.
And I ran down the road.
Where the houses
open up their walls
and let me peek
at the painters paint.
slippery with my sweat.
Lit by the black sun.
Along treadmills.
Through hamster’s wheels.
tore open
and bled light.
A pillow. And curtains.
And smile. And guilt.
And everything else.
everbeta reblogged this from severalhalfmoons and added:
those recipes that I have invented and has been successful. It is also one of those which I would recommend you to...
severalhalfmoons posted this
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