Wednesday, May 25, 2005

i must be really tired if i'm writing on this thing right now, because it's always that peak of just plain flop-onto-bed-fully-clothed sleepiness that seems to eject the best kind of randomness out of one's unconsciousness. ess ess ess. yuck. i spent two hours writing about lawrence and unconsciousness and being an individual, purely male/female thisthatandtheother. i also wrote something about how the things people as a whole lash out at are generally things that frighten them, not the things that offend their moral or aesthetic sensibilities. methinks this is true. fear is the biggest motivator of humankind to do all manner of fool things. it's also funny how one is expected to write continuously for two hours on an average and not make any bones of it.

mum got me two bars of bournville orange. which means dark chocolate with a dark orange twist. it's beautiful. dark chocolate is sexy. so is amir zaki. if you're reading this, mister zaki, i would like to tell you that you have beautiful fingers. and you are sexy. and i am very sleepy, and am really not a pervert (that much) when i am awake and have the proton shields up betterly. so yes. induction implies hence that amir zaki is a bar of bournville orange; who'da known?

i don't like gorpy that much now, i'm thinking. it's a jaan, but an awami one. gorpy, my pets, is turning into a flyer for a tuition academy stuffed beneath your windshield wiper despite frantic wavings of arm at the pubey boy in the drainpipes and cap who will studiously ignore your 'nononononono!' slapping at the windshield and flick, stick it beaneath the wiper and carry on like a binary machine. flick, go. flick, go. their fingers slide over the pile of flyers like machines. practised efficiency and a touch of bravado; i guess it's all they can make of a job like that.

you looked jagged in the face today. jagged, like a dark cliff perhaps, or a broken bottle. this is interesting because 'black look' was always a strictly mister rochester thing til' now. i like it when words turn into reality. like mumble, i remember the first and only time i have ever mumbled, and it quite really did feel like i were talking around marbles. the rain in spain falls mainly in the plain- azamnoon! *points and grins*

the cat is not naturally potty-trained. the cat did not bring the divine knowledge of piss-in-the-sand with it, although it's getting the hang of it. the cat has also discovered how to climb the sofas and insists on stepping in its saucer of milk and then proceeding to walk all over my feet and then clamber all over my lap, leaving milky pawprints behind. i have resorted to smothering it with towel and rubbing vigorously after every hysterical feeding. what a mad kitten. cute, but totally psycho. it'll be the feline dorkmeister once it goes into the real world, the ADHD kid. apologies to anyone with it reading this, i was so hyper when i was a little tot that my mom thought i had it too, if it makes you feel any better. i didn't have it, but you should see me when i'm on a caffiene buzz. or underslept. or find a handle-walla jharoo with an equally loony person attached to the other end.

today was interesting. tomorrow will be better because it is the last exam and then i will read until classes begin again. read nonstop. just read and read and read and stay far, far away from this computer because i think i spend way too much time in this chair and at this desk and it isn't healthy. it's less weird if you spend your alone time reading a book, with the glasses and the frequently dodgy posture i'll be taken for a CS major soon and we all know how dreadful that would be. today i discovered that i share a habit with my grandpa- i'm always fascinated when things like that happen, genes are great :) it's a way of crossing one's legs, he used to do it the same way too. amma told me. dasti!

i was listening to a song on the radio today, random songs they were playing, and this one song that wasn't very good generally had this lyric that was funny: 'if love was a service, you'd be fired by now'. hehe. reminded me of liz phair and green day, only whoever was singing sounded like a donkey trying to get into the choir.

you can make an album with b.b king and you can produce it and you can even try to warble soullly gravellyly but you will never sound like the king. you will sound like the two metaphors i just erased because really. it's ten past one a.m and i'm spouting for the sake of spouting. look! wooorrdss! like unca scrooge diving into his vault of coins, i swim around in these squiggles of my creation like a happy little rainbow-coloured fish in water at noon....sunlit water is one of the prettiest things in the world to watch, particularly when you're in it.

Mina at 12:34 AM