Hello mouldy old blog
I've missed you so
You keeper of teenage angst
strongly brewed feelings
and well-developed adult harping
Reminder of how there are corners in my house that never get swept
and somewhere the sharp waft of all the new mouldy cheeses I've been trying out lately.
This was always my space to speak out more clearly; words weaving together smoothly and cleanly in a way that my normal fastfumblinglyvague conversation would sniff at with derision.
aaah xjhjsa dtcr3l3, #$%1, haan.
The past six months haven't been a whirlwind, so to speak. I'd really love to use the expression 'whirlwind'. It's dramatic and breezy and very feminine to the core; of dashing skirts and lifted chins and sudden entrances into the room. Things I'd rather read about, than be.
The past six months have seen a new start in this city which is my third home, my forgotten home, the home I never really lived in and always wanted to live in for some self-forsaken reason. I closed some chapters, edited others and simply opened a few new ones.
Bangalore is beautiful and exhausting and just as comfortable as an old coat. I haven't worn it very often, but shelved it carefully in measures. The childhood memories I have here are clean and well-folded. Each weekend was an adventure, and I tried to forget that I'd have to return to another reality of steel scales, snipey eleven year old classmates and empty obligations that were only four hours away.
I'm working here now, and learning more about myself every day, and suddenly loving this amazing fact: that after nearly twenty five years in this universe, I've got so much more to learn. I want to devour every thing around me. In a parallel universe, of course, I'm painting my nose blue and writing some reallycrazyimportantintelligentstuffs. These universes always collide. I'm not very worried about the grass being greener thing.
My writings gone rusty, there are bits I want to chop off and fumble with to make them click and hum. I'm probably more aware of how my brain functions now, so this would be a great time to share what I have to say. Either here or another channel. Once in a full moon (that's not so bad, not at all) someone unexpected comes up to me and mentions this dusty space on the internet. The connection is stronger, the moment felt more deeply than anything I've designed or drawn for the past few years. We're full of emotion, apparently. So someone said. Without shame or regret, we're vessels. Pomegranates stuffed with solid ruby gimlets, packed against our skin.
I'm travelling more and connecting slightly more frequently with the ocean. There may be mountains in my near future, some crazybeautiful lifealtering ones. You just need to decide that something will alter your life, and feel it in your bones, and go ahead breathe deep. That's what I think.
I've missed you so
You keeper of teenage angst
strongly brewed feelings
and well-developed adult harping
Reminder of how there are corners in my house that never get swept
and somewhere the sharp waft of all the new mouldy cheeses I've been trying out lately.
This was always my space to speak out more clearly; words weaving together smoothly and cleanly in a way that my normal fastfumblinglyvague conversation would sniff at with derision.
aaah xjhjsa dtcr3l3, #$%1, haan.
The past six months haven't been a whirlwind, so to speak. I'd really love to use the expression 'whirlwind'. It's dramatic and breezy and very feminine to the core; of dashing skirts and lifted chins and sudden entrances into the room. Things I'd rather read about, than be.
The past six months have seen a new start in this city which is my third home, my forgotten home, the home I never really lived in and always wanted to live in for some self-forsaken reason. I closed some chapters, edited others and simply opened a few new ones.
Bangalore is beautiful and exhausting and just as comfortable as an old coat. I haven't worn it very often, but shelved it carefully in measures. The childhood memories I have here are clean and well-folded. Each weekend was an adventure, and I tried to forget that I'd have to return to another reality of steel scales, snipey eleven year old classmates and empty obligations that were only four hours away.
I'm working here now, and learning more about myself every day, and suddenly loving this amazing fact: that after nearly twenty five years in this universe, I've got so much more to learn. I want to devour every thing around me. In a parallel universe, of course, I'm painting my nose blue and writing some reallycrazyimportantintelligentstuffs. These universes always collide. I'm not very worried about the grass being greener thing.
My writings gone rusty, there are bits I want to chop off and fumble with to make them click and hum. I'm probably more aware of how my brain functions now, so this would be a great time to share what I have to say. Either here or another channel. Once in a full moon (that's not so bad, not at all) someone unexpected comes up to me and mentions this dusty space on the internet. The connection is stronger, the moment felt more deeply than anything I've designed or drawn for the past few years. We're full of emotion, apparently. So someone said. Without shame or regret, we're vessels. Pomegranates stuffed with solid ruby gimlets, packed against our skin.
I'm travelling more and connecting slightly more frequently with the ocean. There may be mountains in my near future, some crazybeautiful lifealtering ones. You just need to decide that something will alter your life, and feel it in your bones, and go ahead breathe deep. That's what I think.
2 comments:
And you, my little mermaid summer sister, make me fall in love with this city all over again. And your writing I never fell out of love with. So hello, old lover.
Yours always.
you are already taken :(, would have definitely asked you out.ha haa..
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