a slowly drying water stain
on a perfect white starched cloth
the crosssection of things i could talk about, or would care to
and the things which wudnt give away, any portion of myself i dont want mauled by the public
shrinks and dissapears
its hard being mikey
like the wise woman says
why to blog,
i have nothing to say
to anyone who'd hear, really
its all pretence
my excruciating politeness
spilling into my cyber-spaces
cant spell it out and say f@ck off,
its none of ur business
so what shud i talk about
well, there's always the rain ...
round and round long winding ways
and i am back here again
this is my area of expertise: to fail
is one thing i never fail at
bldy world is never far way
specially when u dont have the time or energy for them,
and noone is ever free when u need someone,
i still get stuck at the simple q's
what wud it be like to have a friend
what is friendship really?
does it really exist at all?
why go on living?
where to? why?
i have failed. again.
i am tired. again.
or was this the point?