Daughters who have been abandoned by their dads spend their life times in cold isolation and mistrust. When eventually they find somone to belong to, they trust heart and soul and hold on for fear and insecurity of being abandoned again. Lucky are those who find home.

One more betrayl and I have burnt all my bridges.
I have rebuilt my forts and towers.
I have retreated into a deeper darkness of the mind and soul which knows no expression through bruises or razor blades.

I'm not going to blog any more.
All I can think to write about is the hurt
which knows no words nor is it something to ever be spoken of.

Winter. Spring. Summer. Autumn. Summer.

I cannot go through another one again. Please God, not again.
Help.

Autumn is back. Presently...

Books: Struggling to surrender -Jeffrey Lang
Music: Elephant Gun -Beirut
Comfort blanket: Sufi, my huggly kitten bear
Manga: Fruits Basket vol. 17 on its way
Anime: Ergo Proxy, same as above
Conspiring: to renovate my bedroom
Thoughts: Should prob start swimming again now that I've healed
Predicaments: Stencil
Dissapointments: black spirals move arround too much, they're not very practical
Real dissapointments: MA
MA?: Deferred man :(
Sudan: Jees, give me some space, ur stifling my enlightenment
Aspirations: Should probably finish that novel before I go out there and die though
Feeling: Confused but strangely liberated
Sexiest man alive: Miyavi

Today, for a split second brief moment, amidst the communal banter of everyone in the office talking at once, I lost track of language. All sense of understanding fell away, confusion seized hold of that place in the brain which aught to interprate communication, and for want of any way better to fix the glitch I felt like I aught to try speaking or listening in Turkish to be able to understand.

The mind of a deeply religious Atheist is a dreadful place

The guys in the office thought it'd be funny asking me to carry a bucket full of change to the donations department. They weren't laughing when I did it with one hand. Fools, aught to know not to be decieved by appearances.

With the fun and joking asside, when the peals of laughter fall away, one by one more frequently now, the world pulls on its veil of strangeness, and it's like stepping out of the plot.
Like peering through the cigrete-burn holes in a cardigan in search of the future. Like watching Inland Empire; where everyone and everything is so random, detached, absurd. Maybe thats what it was all about. Can the world really make sense as a whole, when everywhere are completely irrelevant and unconnected incidents taking place? When things which make sense to one man are jibberish to another, how can we find unity in the actions of men?
I grow more and more strange everyday. To my life. To my self. To those arround me.

I'm going to defer my Masters again tomorrow.
And then I'm going to think hard about Sudan.
And why not? It feels like the only thing tying me down to this place is my cat.

It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul...

The past few weeks have proved that living by impulse, without thought, without expectation or complete digestion, helps make memories. Call it taking in the scenery; Living your life like a spectator; shrugging 'what the hell' to every new invitation and opportunity; Engaging in intimate conversation with taxi drivers. I think this because it's been some time since I've experienced at all, let alone this much in such a short space of time, things which fealt like memories in the making.

Here's to doing mad things
being dissapointed
feeling ecstatic pain
embracing discomfort
abandoning inhibition
yelling at guys who had it coming
enjoying boredom
breaking the habbit
letting the hurt take its toll

If you blink you might miss it.

Here's to 4 hours of Othello under the rain


Predition catch my soul, but I do love thee.
And when I love thee not, chaos is come again.

-Othello