There used to be this worm. One of those once upon a time types.
Lets call him Olo, since that sounds like a plausible worm name.

Olo wanted to write. Olo wanted to be funny.
He, however, never could write his name at the end.

As he woke up one morning, he decided to write about himself.
'A third-person view.' he thought, 'That's what it'd be'.

And then he wrote. It started of quite well. But then, as he continued, he felt something missing. The writing didn't seem to hold you. It was, much as he hated to admit it, boring.
And so he stopped.

I now understand what people mean when they say blood that boils. I can feel it get hot and bubbly and waiting to explode. It is so unfortunate that the reason remains out of my mind.
I must try cutting myself sometime; provide the insides with some breathing space. Perhaps, I could also understand the fascination that lies with self-mutilation.

I am more open than I want to be. I want to be a secret.
'If you want to be a secret, learn to keep it.'

I am being consumed by boredom. And, in its brief moments of absence, anger rules me. I cannot decide which is worse, wanting to destroy the world, or not feeling a thing when it happens. Atleast, people dislike me a lot less when I'm bored.
I have used the flow of vaginal blood as an excuse long enough. I need to attend one of those anger management classes.

I wish I could say I was unhappy, but I'm not. I have also become horribly nasty and insensitive. I find myself laughing at deaths, violence and the killing of kittens. I wonder how all this will end.


'If its a crime, then I'm guilty . Guilty of dreaming of you.'

She got me the Amelie soundtrack. It is quite brilliant. I never talk about music, so I shall not dwell on it.
I've had to choose between pain that allows for the growth of thought and mindless happiness. I pick happy colours. There are a lot of them today, predominately grey which is most beautiful.

I throw my anonymity away bit by bit. I feel vaguely like a snake, except no new skin will ever grow back.

He has the nicest torso. I've looked hard, but there's absolutely no fat. None. I am, on the other hand, adding vast quantities of it to my body.

I have no sense of order. The racks in my mind have fallen and cluttered everything up. I don't remember where I used to keep my memory.

It is bright, and I am pleased. The coins drop into the well. The water is kind. He rides on his bicycle. She wears a black mask over her eyes, as she replaces the shoes. His pictures lie strewn around. It will end happily, and they will love forever (perhaps each other).

My tongue has found itself a friend.

*left foot out. left foot in. right foot out. right foot in*
yippdy dippdy doo.

Many many despicable things I have been doing.
Guilt, as an emotion stays with me no more.

I may still be in love with an image.
Its most annoying, and I don't enjoy it in the least.
There goes my last secret of the day.
Bah to my big mouth.

The many hands man makes me feel wanted : )

Four days
One for me and one for you
Two for the girl who catches the dew.

Four jobs that i've had:
Sold lux body wash
Helped frame a syllabus for a course
Showed around people who had come for a conference on water boilers
Documentation and writing

Four movies that i could watch over and over:
American Beauty
Seven
Anything with Johnny Depp

Four places where i've lived:
Jayanagar, Bangalore
Kanakpura, Bangalore
An ugly hostel in Pune that refused to open its gates after eight.
Another that threatens to do the same.

Four TV shows that i like:
Will and Grace
Seinfeld
Its been very long since I watched TV, I can't think of any more.

Four places where i've vacationed:
The Lakshadweep Islands
Thekadi
Melbourne
Gokarna

Four of my favorite dishes:
Masala dosa
Anything with corn and cheese
Masala dosa

Four sites that I visit daily:
All I do is check my mail. Technology doesn't like me.

Four places I'd rather be right now:
Norway
Any place where the sun doesn't burn
Gokarna
In his head

Four books that i've read this year:
Much of Murakami.
1984
Intimacy and other stories
The Outsider

Four bloggers that i'm going to tag with this:
Wispy
Z
The Voyeur

An update, quick.

I was called a wimp.
I play with new hands.
I have no job.
My feet disapprove of the heat.
I don't need thought.
She has disappeared.
My hair is long.
Things hurt.
Anger management has worked.
Happiness comes once in a while.

The End.