Posts Tagged ‘letter’

dear stranger

Posted: December 10, 2009 in DIALECTICS /often a talk with myself
Tags:

Hey You are kind a cute... Your problem u care...
me=phlegmatic... yeah yeah yeah a big word... then I did English honours i should know some big words...

(p.s actually I picked it from the online dictionary)....
do u think people care... friends... hahahaha... once I too believed in friendship.... today look at me... emotionally wreck... run over... hahahaha... I don't feel any more... i don't want my acquaintances to point finger at me and say hey i know that guy.... we went to the same school/ same college/met somewhere... blah blah blah.... they don't give a shit... i am good alone... yeah sometimes i do get all scared being with myself... then i try to run to company but that's cuz i am scared not that i love them... i don't.... i don't lie anymore... each day is another day... do i remember wat happened y'day.. i don't.... three years of college... it was hip... pubs.. bars... friends' terraces... sipping beer.. or having chat at the corner...  but that's y'day... do i recall... nope... life is a day after a day after a day.... makes sense??? not to me... u ask wat if friends leave me... u think they were with me... no.. i was a clown.. a good company.. so they hanged with me.... toady do they care if i'm lost in this mire... no dear roli they don't.... u are kinda nice..... kinda like me when i wasnt so lost.... yeah i have created my own world.. i know... but am escaping from reality... my only way... with black.. with death....

cutting a dream into a million pieces.... the song goes on.... shifting places... into a tuneless chaos of words.....

ME :i'm creative..... hahahaaaaa... that's funny.... eccentric sounds cool.. i'm not eccentric...
 i'm just lost.... ever seen a puppy out in the rain.. cold...
lost away from home... that's me.. i can't recognise anybody...
my friends where have they all gone...
where is the guy who used to help me with digging in my garden.....
where is the guy who was the thief when i came in as the cop..
 where is the girl who wud run after me with her badminton cuz i hid the cork.. there have all gone...
i see them but i don't recognise them any more.....'m dead.....'t care...
tomorrow i'll not have the comfortss that i have today.... no tv (that means no heroes n no prison break)...
no computers (no more online chating with nice people like u).... no home... no nice clothes..
frankly i don't care.. so wat.... i'll still live... as i live now.....

it doesnt matter. i wish i cud sleep today.
[words mean words to me.]

(p.s u are kinda nice. cuz u care. u are kinda stupid. cuz u care.)

[words mean words to me.]

p.s u are kinda nice. cuz u care. u are kinda stupid. cuz u care.)

questions. questions. questions.
how i wish i cud get a penny for each question u ask... i wud become rich.. hahaha...

well...
"what do u live for?” this is the question i have been asking to myself for the last 21 years.
And question replies question. i have nothing to look forward to. i'm not passionate about anything at all. All moments that have gone by...
no matter how pleasant or sad today seems the same. As if i have never gone thru that life.
As if each moment is the same. even the future seems all the same. Agreed I was good at certain things that i tried my hand at.
Basketball, tracks (long distances), graffiti, writing, et al... but i leave everything after a time. not that i fail in them but quite the contrary i succeed.
but then i don't feel like continuing. sometimes i feel i am dead. no wishes. no passion. no past memories. no future dreams. really.... what do i live for?

when i wrote "u are my fav. amateur psychiatrist" i meant it as a sarcasm. sorry if u took it the wrong way. i didnt mean to complement you or something.

it was just scathing remark on ur psychiatrist ability. i hope u understand.
[hahahaha]

words mean words...
well it's my problem... after a while all words just jumble up together. Then they just remains words...
dry words devoid of feelings. even sometimes when i'm talking the words seem all the same

and then they kinda echo in my head… my head.. my head...myhead.. myhead... it's funny...rite...if u can)
wasting my life... hahahaaha... how can one waste something that is not useful at all....
i yeah i do

believe me 

cutting a dream into a million pieces.

the song goes on.
shifting places.
into a tuneless chaos of words.

(p.s about p.s make sense if u can)
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