jerks

why do they do this? over and over again? dont they get tired? its not like the job's easy or that he's not trying. but thre remains a question of time which is necessary. not something he mioght be given as a favour but as something he deserves. after all this, this i what they can come up with? i wonder why i still follow all this. addiction? u might say so. one word on the other side--i might say so.
i have asked this before. im asking it again. and no, i dont particularly hope for an answer. but whatever it is that they are fighting for, they'll never get it. never-fucking-ever. you cant walk over someone just he is civilized. louts. hooligans. bloody gutter-snipes.
or maybe its just because they have a severe lack in life. how many homicides can i commit? hitler planned his genocide pretty well. maybe i should take a leaf out of his book. they deserve nothing better. far worse, if i have my way. and some especially....by god, if i could only lay my hands on them..........
they think that their aggression is worth tuppence? they think that what they are doing is right? do they even know their own memory span? i'd like to see all these morons when they come lick his feet. wouldn't that be a sight. and they will. oh yes they will. i will see that day who laughs the loudest. for one thing, it wont be them.

a sound outside. wind...windchimes...late night. have you ever heard the sounds at night? in the stillness of sleep? magnified sounds. little tinkerbell sounds. windchimes. there they go again. how do u capture the sound? how do u make it stay beyond that moment? how do u fill the gap before it comes again? of its own accord. willingly. trees. leaves. trains. the odd rickshaw slowly making its way down the sleepy lane. suddenly something tears through the night. u start. sit up. then slouch back into the comfort of unknown sounds. and wait....for the wind. the windchimes.

at first i thought it was just another one of those things my machine loves doing. you know, you want something to load quickly and just then things get inexplicably slow? or low? or just fucking wht-the-hell-am-i-doing-here-? speed? yeah? well anyways i thought that's what had happened when i tried to write something on blog. everything comes, but this page where u write. so u wait. um...wait some more...refresh...aha!!!!!!!.....nothing. on a serious note---blogger's way of pouting? prolonged leave of absence? how romantic.
so, how have things been? lately a little bizarre. what with mum out of station, the liberty to go jump on the moon if i care to.....or other things which i shall discreetly leave out at this moment.
winter should have set in by now. the season of woollens and over-ripe oranges. the smell is here alright. the sharp tangy smell of winter. but winter isnt. its strange. when u wonder how the season can be so far behind with its smells already thriving. or maybe not thriving. maybe just an oversensitive piece i got below my eyes. boy does that sound corny!
everytime i look beyond my machine i see books. piles and piles of them. prreetty impressive huh? i know. if only the feel-good factor would last when i opened the fucking incomprehensible sons of bitches. execrations, execrations, where will all of this lead me? hopefully to a slightly clearer understanding of donne, but going by the looks of it......