and once again. its a nasty cold! ur shittin' me right?!

i've been missing a lot of things. things from where i was a long time ago and things from what is to come. yes, at the risk of sounding pretentious i would like to invoke with this silly thought all that i don't have anymore and many of those that i know i might have sometime.
and i really miss kingkarloz and kellebelle sometimes.
oh and i have to leave here in 3 weeks and i haven't done even an atom's worth of the things i told myself i should do when i was "many miles" away.
and while we're at such abstractions, why do some days feel like they have to be all four seasons in one day? and yesterday was a very bizarre combination and oh boy did it swing between highs and lows.

over the last some weeks it seems to have made complete sense to acknowledge that i've gotten bored with a million things. good fun. i have not a care in the world anymore. the sludge has dried and cracked and when it remembers, withers away. every flicker of a sticky situation sniggers at its own fleeting mirage. its heady. well, almost.

joy.
and here is a current hot favourite:
Too Many Names

From: ‘Estravagario’

Neruda

Monday entangles itself with Tuesday

and the week with the year:

time cannot be severed

with your weary shears,

and all the names of the day

the water of night clears.



No man can call himself Peter,

no woman Rose or Mary,

we are all sand or dust,

we are all rain in the rain.

They have told me of Venezuelas,

Paraguays and Chiles,

I don’t know what they’re talking about:

I know the skin of the Earth

and I know that it has no name.



When I lived among roots

they delighted me more than flowers,

and when I talked to a stone

it echoed like a bell.



It is so slow the spring

that lasts the winter long:

time has lost his shoes:

one year’s four centuries.



When I go to sleep each night

what am I called, not called?

And when I wake up, who am I

if it wasn’t ‘I’ who was sleeping?



This is to say that as soon as we

are thrust out into life,

that we come newly born,

that our mouths are not filled

with all these dubious names,

with all these mournful labels,

with all these meaningless letters,

with all this ‘yours’ and ‘mine’,

with all this signing of papers.



I think to confound things

mingling them, hatching them new,

seeing through them, stripping them naked,

until the light of the earth

has the unity of the ocean,

a generous integrity,

a crackle of starched perfume.

the hanif is a much faymbous. actually it is quite a big star in the blogging world and it was much fun to watch its stardom spread among blog people in the northern quarters of the country. here is wishing it many many heights and faymbs.
also i would like to thank the hanif for treating me to a much fun-filled trip to a pretty wedding and all thats fair and all that's bright.

and ofcourse, in other greetings and salutations i would like to welcome e.sidekick to a more convenient time-zone. welcome!!!

the best use of the stupidest songs

i don't really know what reminded me of it this morning but i remembered how a certain coloured sidekick we all know put a really silly song to good use every time we stepped out of a building in Point-C. for every blast of wind that welcomed him to the chilly outdoors of that mad city, E.Sidekick would go, "hit me baby one more time".
it had me in splits always. maybe its one of those u-had-to-have-been-there things but its hilarious when you think of it coming from someone who really hates the cold, for whom every stepping out in those climes was an arduous task. trust me, it was quite hilarious.

it's taken a really crappy film to get over her. but i think i'm over. after years of dedicated love, affection and anguish its over and it doesn't feel a wee bit sad. goodbye ryder gurl. maybe there was nothing there after all.
i have been enjoying deciding that i actually don't like many of the things i thought i loved. i don't enjoy riding on some crazy roads as often anymore.
actually that's worked metaphorically too. and how.