I wonder what it is that makes me not care for lesbian and gay issues either. It's the next day's page, and anything I loved seems so airy-wairy, irrelevant. That I would be validated only through tangible, real, so-called things. There are things you don't know. It is a process, it does not feel abnormal, or forced either. Just that I paused to wonder, when I came to an Internet entry on the 1998 San Francisco International Lesbian & Gay Film Festival. I went to their site, looked at the films. It didn't make one whit of difference to me. And if I came to something I liked, I'd probably try to save it and keep it away, so that it didn't take my attention, for some later, less harrowed time, which inevitably does not come. What is left, really? I am too much a part of it to say, now. I wish to go away before it gets too consuming, and don't worry, I will. Will I leave a shattered heart in the process, how many, and? These are rather idle musings, the last one, anyway. As he calls them, he. And tonight I feel lonely and a twinge of pain, to not have what I want. And then, the trouble of wanting quite so much. And not really having it. I want to be lonely tonight. To not have anyone near me. Take my mind away, dear God, I don't want to think.

Your Song

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide
I don't have much money but boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you

And you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world

I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross
But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song
It's for people like you that keep it turned on

So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue
Anyway the thing is what I really mean
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen


Music by Elton John
Lyrics by Bernie Taupin
Available on the album Elton John

.........................................

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hnoo baba

In here and posting. Life's a topsy turvey. Met a German guy, stuck up, who spoke. He has one very ugly tooth and he laughs and laughs, something like Peter Wyman but not quite that. Met kid S's friend whom I liked. Some people you know are special. He is that, with beautiful hands, and calm face, in a way that S isn't. S is light, light as the world, forget, just to forget. The friend is quiet, he will reassure by just being. I wonder what one does to deserve these - these blessings, of knowing people so much better than you are. Aaj okhane bosheo mone hochhilo. And then, I saw his face today, grim but when he came to me, the biscuit, everything falls into place. I am a little animal. React thoughtlessly to comfort, kindness, assurance. It's a bit scary too, that this reaction is so instinctive, what about nurturing others?
Well, the nice thing about the day is, I have been out for the whole day, pushing myself more or less. I met up with pals, did my thing without worrying how tired I might get. I am tired, but rather happily so. Spoke to Oli yesternight for long hours, then went off to sleep. S woke me up, wailed ghumote dey and all, but went off nonetheless, glad to spend the three hours we did at T3, the weird food we ate, seeing S and friend, fixing appointment to teach S, other kid at 9 in the morning. And then next day shall begin. Is how life should be. And be married along the way and come back to a kid every night. Not baby. Kid.

limitless

"consume my heart away; sick with desire and fastened to a dying animal, it knows not what it is." This was by Yeats and today I feel guilty about writing about anything that i have ever liked because he does not care for the way we go about it. what happens to me, dear God? i want to be able to let go. to smile again, to make another smile, or simply get on with it. i have to go away. get away to another city, away from familiar faces, faces with whom i share a history. forget i ever was. there can be no happiness for me, i need must realise. i shall die, in fact, i am already dead. let me go, remove this immoveable weight from my heart, that refuses to let me see the bright side of things, only patches of what seems to be sunlight, and then the familiar endless pall of darkness. a moment of brightness, and i think things have finally fallen into place in my head, from now on, i will surely be happy, and then the debilitating darkness, that refuses to let me move, makes me call out for him, and he will not answer, and that somehow, makes a world of difference to skew my perspective. i have lost perspective completely. all objectivity. don't know what's good for me, anymore. only blindly chasing what seems xtremely difficult to give up. i know why, y'know. it's what i thought earlier - to have dreamt and wanted and then to not have it. to have walked so far and then to find the road not going anywhere. what do you do then? keep walking, since there will be a road somewhere, or turn back and run, to what i dunno. safety, perhaps. safety of nothingness, emptiness, meaninglessness. time stretching away like a yawning gap in endless timelessness, and where were my three kids and the guy with brown eyes that seemed waiting to gleam when sunlight fell on them. women, women, o women. addle-headed, indecisive, who do not know what they want. my father, i am sure thought the same. the man with the threatening nose winked, perhaps because he knew it all along (???). waiting to hand the shitty end of things. these words i write, hold such little information, just a state of mind. and as agu said, you realise that nothing you do is quite unique. people before you have been there, done that. no emotion is sacred. and that they all might be violated, and still you will live, even love. what blasphemy! people should die when once violated, spontaneously, losing all desire to live. i am tired tired. i am 23 and i admite tiredness. thank you. and i was afraid of not wanting him, and he was my only light, only guiding light. mauled, lacerated, and i don't know quite what to do. do i let go, and oh my lord! do i persevere? yes, i have wanted things easy. i lost my father to it. and i don'y even know what the fight is between. feeling, and the lack of it. or laziness and goodness, hard work. above all, be good to yourself, she said yesterday. quite frankly, i don't know how. the world seems such a frightening maze, these moments when you realise that what you thought you saw was actually something you had deluded yourself into seeing, or rather that your vision wasn't strong enough, it morphed into another's and engulfed you into his matrix.
and then, and then. after so many words having been expended, where does one stand? exactly where i had left. return to the darkness, do. believe me, there will be nobody will come to rescue you. don't refuse to believe. don't hope. another chip on the shoulder. confrming my darkest impressions of the world. for all that and more, thankssssss

i want to go into news. where there shan't be the agonising visions of subjectivity. it will just be information. these are not my words.

If you believe in something, believe in it till your last breath, believe in it even if everything you are being taught is against that belief. Otherwise do not believe at all.......


This off Guitar George's blog. Have asked for his permission, declaration, more like, hoping he won't mind.