apurplebreeze.blogspot.com
a purple breeze: Where do I Begin
http://apurplebreeze.blogspot.com/2007/05/where-do-i-begin.html
Dreams are the eraser dust I blow off my page. They fade into emptiness another dark, gray day. Dreams are the only memory of the plans have back then. Dreams are eraser dust and now I use a pen. -Anonymous. Sunday, May 27, 2007. Where do I Begin. My fingers are slipping. Bit by bit by bit. I know it is coming. I know I know I know. But how the tune refuses to go away with time is something I have not been able to understand. Explain it to me, why do the fingers itch so much, why do the notes have to...
lessisapossibility.blogspot.com
lessisapossibility: returns of the day
http://lessisapossibility.blogspot.com/2007/11/returns-of-day.html
Wednesday, November 14, 2007. Returns of the day. To stop myself wasting more time obsessing about the pants, I took the buka out to the swings, where the other mothers were loud and annoying and throwing their cigarrette butts down on the ground all around the swings, some still smoldering. I was disgusted. I thought, should I say something, or leave? I got home, 10 o’clock at night. There was a present waiting for me, and a cake. I don’t care about birthdays. I have nothing else to wish for. Subscribe ...
zxcv-blog.blogspot.com
Careless Whispers: The most eventful B'day ever
http://zxcv-blog.blogspot.com/2007/03/most-eventful-bday-ever.html
A platform for my verbose expressions. Dada, this one is for you. Gutando’s didi’s shaadi. Last bit of masti in Mumbai. I moved your cheese. Saturday, March 10, 2007. The most eventful B'day ever. The most eventful B'day ever. As the countdown to New Year ended we celebrate with firecrackers and hugs and smiles. Finally my B'day ended, so did an eventful year and a New Year set in with new promises, new boundaries to be challenged, new horizons to be explored. Long time long post. 12:36 PM, March 15, 2007.
apurplebreeze.blogspot.com
a purple breeze: Rosette Skies
http://apurplebreeze.blogspot.com/2007/11/rosette-skies.html
Dreams are the eraser dust I blow off my page. They fade into emptiness another dark, gray day. Dreams are the only memory of the plans have back then. Dreams are eraser dust and now I use a pen. -Anonymous. Saturday, November 10, 2007. You spend long, endless nights. That’s what. I think I am now familiar with all the patterns of the night. The little noises the security guards make, the distant barking of stray dogs, the guy in the apartment across who reads in bed with the blinds up till two am, a...