Twisted Braids..

…are what I might get for this season.

A deftly lingering irritation. A few hummable strands of musiqa. Inner DJ spins Digiable Planets with massive rapidity and some consequence(dissent?). Mandalism, child rapes in my locality, hostile hooligans for delegates. The week that was never could be! Distances get closer and I resume the unorthodox routine of filling self with words or words with self(As the master may have iterated).I have begun mirroring an inert city’s desperate avatars. The town and its brilliantly polygamous ways ricochet with Rotten’s tanned punk-ness. This amorphous meandering creates spirals of boundless and monstrous energy to do something. However something is not a finite possibility at this point in time. I must be truly out of synch with myself if I feel this fatalistic about survival. I am fairly well chained to a persevering wall in the Hall of impeccable fucking silence. A helot to emotional drudgery- resignation to that-what-can’t-be-explained. To work on self is a mammoth task. Somedays are meant for sombre realisation. This is not of those days, though.


~ by iconoplastic on April 11, 2006.

2 Responses to “Twisted Braids..”

  1. I love Digible Planets. And I love the prolixity of your writing… although sometimes I have to read it a few times to understand what you’re saying… 🙂

  2. Hey!
    Thanks….and why can’t I leave comments on your blog?

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