isunderconstruction.blogspot.com

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September 24, 2014. There is a stone inside of me. That i cant break; choked by. A ball in my mouth. That i cant *******. My anger has flowed to the gutter. Along with the vomit of. The whiskey and undigested kolkata. My beauty is that of the coward man. Contained in his boundaries. The clock ticks one two three. The muscles slacken from age. Reminding me of me. The day loosing its scent. The brightness turning into stuporous amber. Till one day when nothing is left. I am face to face with the stone.

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[cloud journal] | isunderconstruction.blogspot.com Reviews

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September 24, 2014. There is a stone inside of me. That i cant break; choked by. A ball in my mouth. That i cant *******. My anger has flowed to the gutter. Along with the vomit of. The whiskey and undigested kolkata. My beauty is that of the coward man. Contained in his boundaries. The clock ticks one two three. The muscles slacken from age. Reminding me of me. The day loosing its scent. The brightness turning into stuporous amber. Till one day when nothing is left. I am face to face with the stone.

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3 dream

4 idea

5 photography

6 poetry

7 review

8 schizopolis

9 story

10 video

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[cloud journal] | isunderconstruction.blogspot.com Reviews

https://isunderconstruction.blogspot.com

September 24, 2014. There is a stone inside of me. That i cant break; choked by. A ball in my mouth. That i cant *******. My anger has flowed to the gutter. Along with the vomit of. The whiskey and undigested kolkata. My beauty is that of the coward man. Contained in his boundaries. The clock ticks one two three. The muscles slacken from age. Reminding me of me. The day loosing its scent. The brightness turning into stuporous amber. Till one day when nothing is left. I am face to face with the stone.

INTERNAL PAGES

isunderconstruction.blogspot.com

1

[cloud journal]: May 2014

http://isunderconstruction.blogspot.com/2014_05_01_archive.html

May 6, 2014. Books read since january. 1My Uncle Napoleon 3/5 stars- Farce is not a type of comedy that the new generation likes. 2Season Of Migration to the north -4/5 stars- fighting imperialism with virility. 3White Noise(don delillo)- Post Modernism and cultural theory apart. Watching children sleep is the closest I can come to God". 5Crime and Punishment-5/5 stars-but a return to Christianity after an Existential Crisis is just an option. Get ready to be blown away. Savour slowly.

2

[cloud journal]: September 2014

http://isunderconstruction.blogspot.com/2014_09_01_archive.html

September 24, 2014. There is a stone inside of me. That i cant break; choked by. A ball in my mouth. That i cant swallow. My anger has flowed to the gutter. Along with the vomit of. The whiskey and undigested kolkata. My beauty is that of the coward man. Contained in his boundaries. The clock ticks one two three. The muscles slacken from age. Reminding me of me. The day loosing its scent. The brightness turning into stuporous amber. Till one day when nothing is left. I am face to face with the stone.

3

[cloud journal]: August 2014

http://isunderconstruction.blogspot.com/2014_08_01_archive.html

August 31, 2014. Come, tell me how you live. The moment in the photograph. Was decision or serendipity? The photographer is being photographed. Exposing our naked vulnerability-. Of never being authentic;never being fake. Memory at the age of perfect counterfeit. Creating auto awesome stories of your taste. The closed circuit cameras that keep asking. Come ,tell me how you live? Where you put your dentures as you sleep? Whom do you miss when you wake up? Where you vanish when the light recedes?

4

[cloud journal]: January 2014

http://isunderconstruction.blogspot.com/2014_01_01_archive.html

January 27, 2014. And how many times have you. That you could not sort. Because you did not hide. And didn't ignore the the other side. Because you did not hide. Private property and all. Before you set sail on the waves -. Only guided by love and. The luminescent path of stars-. Your was heart for sale then. Your house for the times to invade. To be blowing in the wind. The ugliness when they discovered. You hiding your gold ring. Who knew dreams were so selfish? Who knew loving would be so hard?

5

[cloud journal]: Warp

http://isunderconstruction.blogspot.com/2014/09/warp.html

September 24, 2014. There is a stone inside of me. That i cant break; choked by. A ball in my mouth. That i cant swallow. My anger has flowed to the gutter. Along with the vomit of. The whiskey and undigested kolkata. My beauty is that of the coward man. Contained in his boundaries. The clock ticks one two three. The muscles slacken from age. Reminding me of me. The day loosing its scent. The brightness turning into stuporous amber. Till one day when nothing is left. I am face to face with the stone.

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[cloud journal]

September 24, 2014. There is a stone inside of me. That i cant break; choked by. A ball in my mouth. That i cant swallow. My anger has flowed to the gutter. Along with the vomit of. The whiskey and undigested kolkata. My beauty is that of the coward man. Contained in his boundaries. The clock ticks one two three. The muscles slacken from age. Reminding me of me. The day loosing its scent. The brightness turning into stuporous amber. Till one day when nothing is left. I am face to face with the stone.

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