square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: October 2007
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. Young Man and the Sea. In the middle of an ocean of troubles. The silvery water gazes at your gentle boat of travel. The migratory birds cross you with a laugh for themselves. You migrate on the hopeless boat of rubble. Ripple; ripple….the union of man and boat rips through the water. Searching for a dark island far away. The diamond twinkles of lost hope.
shadowywaters.wordpress.com
Light | The Shadowy Waters
https://shadowywaters.wordpress.com/2010/08/18/light
Amidst the real and the imaginary …… the shadows. Have you ever thought of that light. That glows in the dark? When your house is tangled in the darkness. The light that tells you,. There are no monsters under the bed. And you sleep safely tucked under the covers. Have you ever thought of that light. That you can see throughout the night,. That guards you from a nightmare,. That is your friend when no one is there? Do you know what that light is? It is the light of the lamppost across the street. These a...
coffeeandcrackers.blogspot.com
Happiness is a Warm Gun: XYZ and ZYX
http://coffeeandcrackers.blogspot.com/2008/01/xyz-and-zyx.html
Happiness is a Warm Gun. Monday, January 21. This is Kafka's sky. Not yours or mine. Into that tidy cocoon. Nestled in steel white grip. That dug its way in. On the heart of the. I keep having this picture in my head of the sky swallowing a butterfly.beautiful. I love trying to catch those dark thoughts. They keep me feeling alive. The wind owns my soul.I don't know why, but this reminded me of that. Wednesday, February 06, 2008 2:54:00 PM. Long time since i came here. And when i came here.
shadowywaters.wordpress.com
Lazy! | The Shadowy Waters
https://shadowywaters.wordpress.com/2011/07/01/lazy
Amidst the real and the imaginary …… the shadows. He eyed his surroundings suspiciously. Laundry basket filled to the brim. Important Papers/Bills filling up his desk. Work documents lying on his bed,. Enmeshed with a book from the library. The national geographic magazine he received 3 months ago. He moved his vision near the window. The camera lay lonely near the bookshelf. The violin stood silently. And so did the tennis racquet. Lenses and tennis balls lying around. Along with his swimming gear.
doorsofperception.wordpress.com
Silence: | DOPe. is Doors Of PErception
https://doorsofperception.wordpress.com/2007/03/01/silence
DOPe is Doors Of PErception. Have you ever really felt the silence? Silence of a predator in wake of its prey,. Silence of a mother guarding her sleeping child,. Silence of a proud father watching his son go out in this world,. Silence of a sinner in penance. Have you ever really heard the silence? Silence of a woman cheated,. Silence of a greaving family,. Silence of the couple in each others arms,. Silent tears of repent,. Have you ever really lived the silence? Silence of feeling your life slip away,.
square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: GC
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2013/02/gc.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. His head is weary with thoughts- cursing him to make mistakes. By the beach of pain and relief- his sand castles seem to disappear. Through the words of a smile- you words find the simplicity of pain. The notion of falling apart with the sky falling- he just seems to break and tear. Now is not the time to panic- we told him- now is the time to forget. Posted by...
square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: Listening
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2013/02/listening.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. The scourge is over; there is a bloom inside somewhere,. I think I’m being noble, to listen and try – a thing to share. Suffering is a passing stage; life’s just like that. Her words kept me calm and stupid; oh! There was a bold music in my head; I sang it loud in my silence. I dreamt of a land beside the sea; but there was a tickle in my conscience.
square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: September 2007
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. For two people, I wish they care more……. It’s not nice to be nice. There are no hiding places then. Not many people appreciate it. They give you directions for the wrong lane. Admitting that you are just here. Stagnant in this revolving world. Just another speck of grain. An everything of nothing, pale and dull. Your senses beg you to feel its sensation. I eat ...
shadowywaters.wordpress.com
Bookstore | The Shadowy Waters
https://shadowywaters.wordpress.com/2011/11/27/bookstore
Amidst the real and the imaginary …… the shadows. As this holiday long weekend ends with a lot of eating and shopping, I realized the one place where very few people go shopping is a book store. As I was returning from the mall, I decided to make a quick trip to the bookstore for 2 minutes and instead was immersed in that store for quite over 40 minutes. Not that I bought anything at all but browsing thru the store captured my attention. And finally, a fact to ponder on:. Leave a Reply Cancel reply.
square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: My Dear Penny Lane, I Love You
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-dear-penny-lane-i-love-you.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. My Dear Penny Lane, I Love You. Dear Penny Lane,. You are like the soothing morning of the coldest night. Like the sands that stays back in your hand after the ocean eats away. Like the tears after years of holding back. Like the course you suddenly realise was right all along. Like the heart the mind hates to admit. Like my words and my dreams.
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