Psychedelic Slippers

it flutters, it struggles, it dies ....dust!!! m not a butterfly. . . my "hope" is "don't kill me"---a plea

Its been a while, quite a while, I guess around 2 years since graduation. Ahh the pics.. I just love them. Doesn’t look like me naa… Ahh well but it is. I miss those days. We were a fun bunch. All of us. I dunno when I turned this way. I was always a dominating person, but not the girlie dominating types. Yeah more like the guys. The one who’d put an arm around you and talk you into things. That’s not conventional girls way is it? My autograph book from school labeled me a tomboy. Its stuck. I loved the tag. I was one, (I am still?) It was all always “apan log” and then “ladki log” like they were a different species. A species I despised. Ahh yes I hated them. I hated anything girlie. i hated the restrictions, I hated all those things that tied u upto being a girl. They never seemed right, they don’t seem now either. I couldn’t understand how biological differentiation should lead to social differentiation as well. You cant force thoughts on someone can you? I mean if I felt mo

someone shared this link on twitter... http://www.aaronpeng.org/?p=1876 speech by Adrian Tan at NTU convocation ceremony some excerpts " Work kills. The Japanese have a term “Karoshi”, which means death from overwork. That’s the most dramatic form of how work can kill. But it can also kill you in more subtle ways. If you work, then day by day, bit by bit, your soul is chipped away, disintegrating until there’s nothing left. A rock has been ground into sand and dust." " The truth has a great capacity to offend and injure, and you will find that the closer you are to someone, the more care you must take to disguise or even conceal the truth. Often, there is great virtue in being evasive, or equivocating. There is also great skill. Any child can blurt out the truth, without thought to the consequences. It takes great maturity to appreciate the value of silence." " It is far too easy to be liked, one merely has to be accommodating and hold no strong convictions.

(what's said hardly matters) casual, unspecific everyday chit chat has an amazing healing power, a power over all the deep cuts by sharp words... remembrance is sometimes a curse... words long ago come back to pierce u, as broken promises, as afterthoughts, as moments wasted... i am blessed to forget. backtracking..... embracing silence again

after almost planning the end.... m back here... i dont think wetfootprints (o psychedelic slippers) shall ever pause (a complete fullstop is a definite no) this blog is just one of the things that makes me... "me", and i come as a full package with all this included.... my blog, my past, my dreams... and a lot more "my"s and to shy away from writing here, would be to be afraid to be myself... remember the first time my mom read my diary... i almost stopped writing after that. i d never let that happen to u dear blog... there may be trickles, there may be floods....but when you walk through them, there shall always be wet footprints.... p.s. a special thanks to all blogdosts who showed concern....

the word i love the most..... i'd kill for it http://wet-footprints.blogspot.com/2007/10/story.html same thoughts....

festive glow Posted via email from pixeljuice's posterous

6:12 pm… a damped soul releases the latch on the door. Flings bag on the bed, the first desire is to fall flat on the bed, but then decides otherwise… A tiny packet of “lamps” is all it takes to release the festive spirit.. 10 tiny lamps… that make me long for the stereotyped diwali conversations… “arey sandhyakal jhaali ajun pantya nahi lavlya” “aaai pantya” “lightingchi maal kadh” “arey ajun jhala nahi kartik? Kevha udya lavnar kay?” “aaj ratrpali vatatay?” Glue, paper, scissors, a sleepless night… 10 tiny lamps…make me smile, cause I am still in sync with whats happening at home.

gearing up for "that time" of the sem again my aids my tools rearranged desk space, rearranging head space