Drafts

Felt like I hadn't posted anything in a long time, got that itchy feeling that you get when you want to write something but you're not sure what it is that you want to write. Some people call that a writer's block, I think.

Anyway, so I found these drafts that I never finished, some are as old as this blog itself. One of these has a half story that takes off on a depressing tangent from Bobby McGee, another has some random rant while this other draft talks about my astonishment at where one year at college went, and yet another has something whimsically ridiculous. (You know, tandoori jokes types. And if you don't know what tandoori jokes are, well, some people would say you're lucky. BUT YOU'RE NOT. Now, where was I? Oh yeah.) Hmm. It's like having an argument. You want to say a lot of things when you're pissed off, but give it 5 minutes and then you rethink, and maybe mellow down your tone or discard the idea of rebutting whatever it was that you thought needed rebuttal. (Brevity really isn't my thing, is it? Neither are analogies I guess, no?)

Thing is, I don't know if I could ever finish any of those drafts. But I won't get rid of them either, part of me still thinks I would get around and finish these pieces and maybe they'll turn out a tad more than OK. But then this is the same part of me that wanted to learn guitar, speak German and finish off the tiny bag I stitched for myself on a Sunday in second year. (No really, I did. Ask Juthika. She finished her bag, btw. Hey, mine only has a handle-strap left, okay?)

Yeah, that's about all I had to say, I suppose. (Post for post's sake, this feels like. I should stop talking in broken English.)

PS. Heh, I could be a female JD from Scrubs! (That would be great, right? Although I think there are way too many people who've said this about themselves, sounds wannabe-like than an honest observation. Right, I should sleep. Maybe a critical version of JD.)

Oddity

Fell sick just as Finals week starts. Not cool.

Hmm, this could have been a tweet.

What electricity failure can do, that internet access cannot.

So a major thunderstorm in North-East US killed the electric supply to our building. As we speak, (you read, I type, mostly I type - did you know this guy who bought the domain IPhone.com way back in early 90s when internet telephony was being invented now became a millionaire thanks to a certain company which can have people paying 800$ should they start selling bricks prefixed with an i? - Google it. Anyway, back to subject matter,) the electric providers auto voice thingo informs me that the cause has been identified, (it was indeed the thunderstorm) and now they're thinking up of how to fix things.

Anywhoo, the point I'm trying to make is that I did something creative. I opened a word processor (Open Office, bitchez), but couldn't really write much. So I opened MS Paint (oh bite me) and played around with colours, edited what I'd done in Picasa, got an idea and used Paint some more and then Picasa some more.
Right, point is, this is what I made, and I don't care what Mr. Artsypants Mc Mystuffhangsingalleries thinks.
Using my friend's (who is always hungry, bored and sleepy, usually all at the same time) favourite internet emoticon so I can expression my emotions in brief, I <3 colours =)

To all the second graders who think they can do better, bring it on! To Ms. OoImgrownUp Imintellectuallol, my blog. I put up what I want to.

(Psst. Click on the pics to enlarge them.)

Bitten by the bug.

Not done too well, but I'm rather smug about the fact that I didn't need to use any extra conjugates. Missed out on a lot of songs, but got a little tired. Do let me know how many you figure out =)
And yes, you need to be a fan to make any sense out of this.

Picture yourself in a train on a station with a ticket to ride when I get to the bottom while my guitar gently weeps because the wind is high for I have got a letter in your bag for me so hold me tight... it's you, a real nowhere man, your lips are moving, I cannot hear, and my advice to those who remember to let her into her room, isn't it good and I can't forget the time Mother Superior jump the shadow hanging over me; oh it won't be long before this dance is through please remember how I feel when you talk about destruction,don't you know that you can get high with a little help from the eggmen, they are all aboard; many more of them broken hearted people living in the octopus's garden near long and winding road and the way she looked at me was beyond compare, so how could I be there beneath the blue suburban skies so please love me for taking the easy way out but when you talk about destruction, don't you know that nothing's gonna change my world so why on earth should I moan... life goes on and she promises the earth to me and I love her, my Michelle.