ebony
ivory
I see the world in black and white...

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Blog Chalk
India, Female, 22, live on tonnes of books, lots of music, much more hope, some incoherent philosophising, and swear by Ayn Rand and Pink Floyd. Very stubborn and don't want to change. Trying very hard to become an engineer. In love with life... And Newton :)

Small Talk

Life in archives
04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004
05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004
06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004
07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004
08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004
09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004
10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004
11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004
12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005
01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005
02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005
03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005
04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005

Blog Truths
"Can I be as I believe myself or as others believe me to be? Here is where these lines become a confession in the presence of my unknown and unknowable me, unknown and unknowable for myself. Here is where I create the legend where I must bury myself."
--Miguel De Unamuno.

Current read

Linking Park
Book-A-Minute
Paperbacks: Love And Longing In Bombay -Vikram Chandra, Eleven Minutes -Paulo Coelho (Still trying! Can't get past the S&M bit. THE BOOK SUCKS!)
E-books: Da Vinci Code -Dan Brown


Thank ye!

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Wednesday, April 20, 2005
It's Time...

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say

Home, home againI like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.


-Time, Pink Floyd

Hopelessness and "quiet desperation" might be the order of the day, but I know better. I've known failure way too closely and way too many times to not learn undying optimism. To that I say Cheers! To me. :)

And yes, break it is. Call it growing up or growing real, but I suddenly hate using blogging as a vent to my frustration. And as always, I hate sounding like a cribpot! There's too much happening right now. Here's to the the hope that things will sort themselves out. And I'll not jump the gun till I have a reason!

I'll see you when I see you. And no, I'm not leaving all depressed and upset, but I don't mind some comfort food in my mailbox. Anybody listening? ;)

Edited to add: I suddenly got the feeling that I'm growing up, even though some of my problems are way too immature! But at least I'm not an escapist anymore.