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Of ink pens and what-have-you's: August 2009
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's. Monday, August 31, 2009. Thought is immense strength. It creates, it destroys. It confines, it liberates. It forgives, it festers. It recedes, it reforms. It is hesitant, it is relentless. Word is thoughts consort. It has beauty, it has poise. It plays, it hides. It completes, it distorts. It veils the nature of thoughts. Monday, August 10, 2009. I urge you to stand up so that I can show you the pose. You are going to lose your balance. There is a quickening of the pulse&...
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's: May 2014
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's. Friday, May 30, 2014. What the daughter said. Labels: what they said. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile. Hearsay and things like that. What the daughter said.
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's: kumkum
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's. Tuesday, August 13, 2013. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Hearsay and things like that.
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's: December 2009
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's. Thursday, December 24, 2009. Today, I ran on single-track trails for the first time. These trails are narrow and one has to run in 'single-file'. I think the elevation varied between 900 and 400 feet. I was never able to completely shrug off the fear of mountain lions, the uneasiness induced by the damp, dark trees and the frustration at my pace. At certain times, I experienced a distinct sense of happiness that could simply be a product of physical exertion.
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's: October 2009
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's. Sunday, October 25, 2009. I smoke six cigarettes a day. I wasn't smoking so many earlier; now after befriending that Russian lady I seem to have lost a bit of control. Russians, you know, they smoke as with a ravenous appetite. ". My father maintains a large garden here. I remember when I was young that he and mum used to dislike the fact that I often smoked with my brother. But I declared that if they could puff on the hookah, then I could bloody well smoke. ".
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's: what the old woman said
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's. Saturday, October 26, 2013. What the old woman said. Some songs you associate with conversations, places, a certain group of people, an event, birthdays, other functions, joy, triumph; and some - with sadness and death. You wouldn't know about this, would you son? Labels: what they said. Very nice.and you don't have to be old to know it. Loss is a kind of ageing, isn't it, anon? Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Hearsay and things like that.
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's: March 2014
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's. Saturday, March 15, 2014. The train at the bend. We can feel the rushing wind, observe it, even, in the fluttering leaves of the saplings beside the track. Otherwise, there is silence. It lingers. That thought brings a heaviness to our hearts. We know this emotion. We do not have to anaylse it. We know it. It is the feeling of loss. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile. Hearsay and things like that. The train at the bend.
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's: the aftermath of departure
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's. Tuesday, May 07, 2013. The aftermath of departure. 8220;…my grandmother is uneducated, though. I grew up at her place, a sort of farmhouse. When it rained, the wind would scream through the house and the windows had to be closed for they would bang noisily…”. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Hearsay and things like that. The aftermath of departure.
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's: October 2013
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Of ink pens and what-have-you's. Saturday, October 26, 2013. What the old woman said. Some songs you associate with conversations, places, a certain group of people, an event, birthdays, other functions, joy, triumph; and some - with sadness and death. You wouldn't know about this, would you son? Labels: what they said. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile. Hearsay and things like that. What the old woman said.
