"In the back of the file, I found a yellowed cartoon I’d clipped from the newspaper. It’s Snoopy, opening his mailbox. Dear Contributor, states the letter he reads. We are returning your stupid story. You are a terrible writer. Why do you bother us? We wouldn’t buy one of your stories if you paid us. Leave us alone. Drop dead. Get lost. In the last square, Snoopy rests on his doghouse. Probably a form rejection slip, he thinks.
Oh, yeah. Snoopy knows where to file that rejection. His dream is protected, his heart is in tact. File that letter under H for Hope, that dream-sustaining elixir, the Holy Grail of publishing."
from Roxanne St. Claire’s first novel, 'TROPICAL GETAWAY'.
speaking of peanuts ... sally rather reminds me of barbie and guess who marcie reminds me of!
sleepy
im so sleepy i can hardly concentrate! but i know if i could lie down now i wouldnt be able sleep ...
i was up till two last night. for the first time ... i had a waking nightmare. a truck. a accident. blood. death and rahul in kolkata! weird ...
just feel asleep. had barely fallen asleep when i was woken by the phine. 4 am. sos calls dont watch the time. but im glad. im there if u needme. who ever the hell u are. after all thats all im semi good for ;)
went to the terrace. and sat in the ring. ram-da's jasmine floated heavy all around ...
came down, checked on ma. checked on munal. my little kiddies ... said sorry for the fight ... she smiled in her sleep. first smile in ages. mamma. the biggest kiddo in the world. how i lose my temper when i lose it. my hands shake. my legs shake. and my voice goes low and cold. i could kill someone then in a rage. pills used to be scared every day. thats id kill someone .... was tempted only once. i hate people who sneak into ur privacy. who break codes and passwords to investigate. but i guess, its only human. we must tolerate. forgive. accept. and then we must tolerate their abuses in turn!
anyway then i walked the the kitchen. didnt find anything. the ghost who walks. then i drifted off to sleep just as the alarm went. gym at 6 ... ouch!
drove to work half asleep. i used to have so many friends here. do i not have them anymore or is it my imagination? whats friendship? how much of a shelf-life does it have anyway? whats love, affectation, crushes and whats the expiry date on a promise?
one thought on my mind since sunday ... i wish i could be an angel! wish ihad the authority to walk up to anyone and say 'hello ... why u do you look so crushed.' ... to help. to talk. to wrap them up in clouds of comfort. heal them and let them fly again ... but i cant. when u sit there. looking so sad. i can even say ... friend - its ok. how could i? i barely know you. but i prayed for u. u will be better. soon.
and this is my LAST personal post here!
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