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Not so young Fashion Graduate From National Institute of Fashion Technology (NIFT), Delhi, India. Aspiring journalist. Amongst other eclectic hobbies, she likes writing and has written several poems and articles over her school and college life and now for a living. She would someday like to be be a more popular writer than just on her blogs. 'Tis a lady of grand splendor, who waketh in my bed every morning while the sun beckons her towards night...

Saturday, August 19, 2006

extremes.....

an xtreme of non chalance has come in my life....as if i dont care anymore.....maybe its just a bloody pretence....i do care i know but i dont want to ....so im not caring.....its not me .....im unbecoming of what aparna is.
shutting things in cupboards only makes them rot....

'just finished with eating the rice, left the rest of it in the pan itself.... its started to smell in the morning.....but dont want to clean it.
so just left it above the rack near the window...."when i have the time i will clean it"....or maybe he will....last few hours we have been arguing over who cleans the pan.....stupid argument....arguing stupidly....
its been over 3 days with the rice being left on the top of the rack...we cant smell it....but brave to see it......."word of prayer..." with a lot of trepidition the sauce pan comes down,......pink....beautiful pink fungus on the rice.....its awesome colored.....really....seems very nice.....
and we act a lil more brave to now smell it.....ummmm well both of us do....and wish we were never born with our noses......just leave it under the running tap water...for the whole night....
next morning gingerly clean it...with crinkled noses.....and a load of argument of "who should have done it..." promised never to leave the rice to rot again.....'

and i have left a lot of memories to rot....i still want to see that vivid pink fungus on my memories.....let the memories rot....and yet not be over, eat the rotten memory each day...developing a taste of the dead.....of living a dread of how much more sour can it get the next day.....how much more

will the rot eat me from inside......each day living one of the pieces of the growing pain......of the rotting love i have for u inside......it will grow....feeding on the inside....crumbling me....breaking me to pieces......gnawing my senses....numbing me from the living ....pulling me to the lie......
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