A couple weeks ago, Pooja and I were on the way to the bus stop and it started raining.
Me: Ughhhhhhhh..!!! Stupid rain.
Pooj: No man.... beautiful rain.
Beautiful storm.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
Somehow listening to Will You Be There by Michael Jackson makes me want to type a few lines about my life.
I'm kind of at the point though, where so much has changed and so many little things have happened (that maybe I would've liked to write about at the time but now too much time has passed/there's too much and also too little to say) that I can't really sum it up. Fai and Pooj have just gone to bed and I'm slipping away too so going to make this quick-ish.
[Long wind blows through.]
Here's the moment:
I have dried paint all over my hands. I'm sitting on the hardwood floor in front of the couch which doubles as my pretty-much permanent bed. Waterloo's skyline mellows from the window on my right. Adele is loving on me. My foot is asleep.
No ruining it with thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow.
I'm kind of at the point though, where so much has changed and so many little things have happened (that maybe I would've liked to write about at the time but now too much time has passed/there's too much and also too little to say) that I can't really sum it up. Fai and Pooj have just gone to bed and I'm slipping away too so going to make this quick-ish.
[Long wind blows through.]
Here's the moment:
I have dried paint all over my hands. I'm sitting on the hardwood floor in front of the couch which doubles as my pretty-much permanent bed. Waterloo's skyline mellows from the window on my right. Adele is loving on me. My foot is asleep.
No ruining it with thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow.
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