The plan to write a post for each day in July has foiled itself long ago. There isn’t much to write of except a few books read, little daily heartbreaks and a series of careless, clumsy accidents. Like a battered nose duly earned from running down college corridors without stopping to look. Being mildly electrocuted because you tried to pull a stubborn plug out of its socket without turning off the switch first, and then lying down curled on the floor shuddering shuddering shuddering and wondering when this will stop (if this will stop) and whether human beings can be earthed and if you haven’t discovered yet another not-so-disagreeable way to die. Sleeping pills were one. Not that I have any intention to die yet. But one plans, like one plans everything, for the sake of comfort and reassurance. One imagines life will be like this, although life nearly always turns out otherwise, but one must have means to fill the void in imagination.

Okay, don’t read the emo tripe. It’s just that I had to mention the electric shock because it happened right now.


Last night, I wrote this for D on my phone before I went to sleep:

I love you much, it matters not;
You’ve cast your die in with the lot
Of magic, men and mean machines.
You’ve torn your heart from verdant greens
And patched it up with bones and rags,
Cats in hats and tricks in bags;
You’ve lost it, tossed it like a toy,
And grieved it like a foolish boy.

I think he likes it a little or maybe he doesn’t. I miss D very much although I’ll never get the knack of saying things entirely warm or cheerful. I wonder if he minds that I put this up on the blog?


I’ve finished setting up the new sound system in my room and in a while (I’m hoping) the new printer will get crackling and when I go to bed tonight I’ll be technologically fulfilled and happy.

2 thoughts on “19”

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