still tired and nauseus almost all the time
under a couple of layers of miscellaneous excitements
is a layer of calm numbness
and beneath that a speechless panic that
next a layer of impotent detachment.
as it watches the rotating mind pass that spot again
where it knows a way of life has passed for ever
and though the table has been cleared
and the sorbet brought in,
i have no clue what i want for my next course
at the bottom, i think, is stinging angst
of feeling unsettled and unsure
and just plain missing friends
and their reality checks.
without you to give me a reference point
without you to laugh with,
without you crack stupid inside jokes with,
without you to talk about love, life and men with,
friendless, twinless, alone.
anyone else is too many words away
noone knows as much background as you
i could talk but who'd understand
half sentences, like you do.
watching Hazaaron Khwaishen reawekens the itch
and relocates it tantalisingly, teasingly,
just barely out of reach.
what who where is this thing
i ache to be.
outside, its a sunny day.
and i'm feeling much better today,
thank you. a bit busy (for polite non conversation).
brb. catch you. cheers. happy new year to you too.