His smile

What happiness looks like (I)

This morning…

I was at Bamba flats this morning  in a rushed up bid to tame my wild eyebrows and i was early. Half an hour early. So i bought myself a yogurt and reloaded my phone and stood around the entrance of the salon which was padlocked shut. I tried not to look around too much because I tend to get a little creeped out when people stare at me without smiling, which is what they were doing.

I see a man-boy with highlights in his hair watching me intently as he puffed on a gold leaf. I return his gaze and in my head – I dare him to approach me. He doesn’t. An elderly lady walks by and smiles sympathetically asking in passing if I was waiting for the salon. I nod in reply and she passes me by.  A burgher aunty is buying her veggies  from a stall near by making a racket about the price of potatoes these days.

Then this old man walks up to me. All sarong, shirt and siri siri bag, and asks for money. I reply that I don’t have change and he says he doesn’t even have money to buy tea.  So I offer him my lunch packet and he pockets it without a 2nd thought.

I look away but he’s still standing there.

“What about money for the bus?’he asks. And in my head I think, “fuck you. I’m not obligated to give you money, now am I?” I just stared at him and he went on to say how he needed to go to Dematagoda and I just parroted out the no change story and he walked off mumbling to himself.

I wasn’t in a nasty mood this morning, and I didn’t want the guy to come on bended knee and beg piteously for the money either.  It just reminded me of all the people out there who were genuinely suffering while some bastards are just too lazy to get a fucking job and mooch around begging for money just to fuel their addictions. I got irritated at the thought of the street people who, when offered a 5 rupee coin, throw it back at the person who gave it to them, grumbling that they may as well keep their crummy 5 rs.

I know this post sounds mean, but I’m all for helping people, I really am. I just don’t appreciate people demanding money off me. I don’t think anyone would. Is it just a superiority complex on my part? I don’t know. I don’t think so.

I dunno.

love

For Fuzz, Josh, The Tubelight, The Peach and The Great clueless One. The loves of my life.

Angel – by K

Angel__by_zoxor

I was looking through an old bible today which I haven’t opened in about a year or so & I saw how many memories I had tucked away inside it. Photos of friends and family, quirky little cards from best friends and boyfriends. And amongst the memorabilia I found this. I poem written for me by a long lost friend. This person helped me out through an mammoth emotional struggle in my life. We haven’t spoken in years, but I’m glad I saved this seemingly insignificant piece of exercise paper.

***

Angel

After an entire day of work

in my bed I lay

thoughts were flowing in my mind

and a dream came my way!

I saw this sweet angel

As sweet an tender as one could be

Bringing joy to my heart

Her acts were so care free

As I went closer and closer

wanting to be by her side

Oh! that image which brought joy to others

Had so much sadness tucked inside

I saw her eyes heavy

Trying to prove that she’s fine

But how can I simply let go of her

This cute angel of mine

Her pain was unending

Surely too hard to bear

But I know that I could love her

Making her feel that I really care

How could all this happen to her

That’s probably why she looked an angel in my eyes

So that God would hold and be with her

To help her make the right choice

The warmth of sun rays touch my face

I guess it’s time for day break

My dream might be over

But I know this angel can’t be fake

Coz an Angel remains an Angel

Even when this Earth begins to shake.

***

By K

We were both kids when this was written and I know I’m stronger now, for every bit of care, and every kind word K said to me.

I can’t really describe the feeling of having someone pour out their emotion and passion into a lyric, or a song for you. It always leaves me feeling breathless. And loved.

I miss K.

“Scrambled Eggs” & “Why’d You Name Your Blog What You Named It?”

I HAVE “SCRAMBLED EGGS” FOR BRAINS.

I mean – in the past 30 minutes – I’ve had to print and re- print 3 documents 5 times over.

WTFFFFFF???  I repeatedly kept messing up the numbers or the headings and for what fuckign reason I have no idea???! ! ! *#&^$*@#&$~!!!!!!  GAH. I’ve been screwing around all day – I had a visitor in the morning (not the extra terrestrial kind, but he might as well have been one.) And ever since then my days been a bit screwy – plus Kings of Leon reverberating in my skull really isn’t helping me to think either. Please fon’t mind the typos.

Why am I so forgetful?

I cant count the number of times I’ve gone to drop off Josh at his grandparents place and left behind his feeding bottle… or his diapers….. or his milk. :/ I used to walk to a friends desk at work and forget that I took my phone with me and then spend the next half an hour asking everyone in the vicinity if they saw my phone when the guys had switched it off and hidden it blooming thing. They got a kick out of that, and weirdly so did I. (hmmmmmmmmmm.) I’m so forgetful that I once actually looked about frantically for my phone without realizing  that I was on a phone call.

O_O

My heads a bit too up in the clouds I guess – and yes that’s a mild term for ‘ so fucking stupid’. I need to screw my head back on the right way. I say screw too much. I’m going home.

AH HERE – if you made it to the end of this absolute tommy rot i pass off as a post, I want you to tell me “Why you named your blog what you named it”. Does it have a deep and purposeful meaning or is did you just think it sounded cool? Dunno why I got thinking about it. I guess I just saw Hot Butter Cuttlefish and wondered “WHY”?????

I picked black cz It has more than one definition – like the way i see my life – hard to define. It is said that it is a color. It is also said that it is the absence of light. Take your pick.

See? that was easy right? ok. YOUR TURN.

mang gedara yanava. byeeeeeeeee!

mile high

Mile_High_by_motive8

You are the  alcohol in my blood stream

The smoke in my wind pipe.

The calories in my cupcake.

You are my aphrodisiac.

The colors in my rainbow.

The melody of my favorite song.

You. Get. Me. High.

Recycle me.

*Shattered_Glass_by_intothewest*

Some days – you wake up feeling pathetic. Like a slug. Crawling along all day. Just inching forward  bit by bit. Like… a deflated tire. Or a punctured balloon. A used condom. Used. then tossed away.  Filled with water. Then flushed down the loo. You’re broken, and you can’t fix yourself. So you lie dejected in life’s big waste paper bin, reveling in the glory days. Until someone notices you. But no one does. For who could have use for a broken glass. Or a used tissue?

What you need – is to be recycled.

Live.

Fuck what they say

Don’t let them tell you

what you should wear or what you should eat

what size you should be or how much cleavage you should show.

Don’t apologize.

You’ve made mistakes -

But don’t let them tell you that you have.

Because you aren’t stupid enough not to know.

Be your own man

March to your own beat -

Dance to your own tune -

Make up your own rules.

Watch the world – because it can teach you.

Know that you can learn something new from anyone and anything.

You are what what your mind feeds on – so eat healthy.

Take everything that life has to offer you.

Don’t let words stop you from being everything you can be.

Create your own fate.

Write your own ending.

Be stronger.

Be wiser.

Live.

Dice_by_copperrein

blurry ashes

The traffic – is below me

as I sit – on this roof top

*inhale*

melt away – the stress

your company – always makes me feel – light

makes me feel – free.

*exhale*

i feel – better – now

Sundown

The sky from my car window, on the way home.

*i wish you were here*