well finally i seem to be getting somewhere with this.. ive just learned that i need to enable comments ..in order for people to comment.. hopefully the things worked now.
testing.. testing.. 123
Friday, November 05, 2004
imposter!
yes well i discovered through accident or by accident.. someone has a blog called- mumuring.blogspot.com and mine is murmering.blogspot.com ( spelling error not onpurpose.. result of skipping the spell check for too long) ..
strange coincidence
strange coincidence
Thursday, November 04, 2004
number two
its a very bad morning weather wise.. all hot and humid and my palms are getting sweaty as i type..
now that im initiated .. this is from last night
Black frustration
between sips of warm milk and cartoon exhibitionists on tv i let msyelf dream of conversation , shadows in the darkness escapinghand in hand without turning back, of a quiet revolution. but then im stumbling fumbling into my sober reality without the secret madness with only a stark entrance
where songs live on the exterior muscians at the doorstep a band playing up and voices sweetly whining , a piano stumbles on a guitar tries to wrest my attention words float up hoping to entice me as i fumble through with someone elses hands , in someone elses shoes
and i think of all the people like me in this place, people in walking parks , in houses like the morning, and lives like the calm murmer of a heart sleeping
who discuss stories of solitude with coffee cups and wonder without wandering, resisting those foul temptations
screaming through satisfied smiles of black frustration.
meghana
now that im initiated .. this is from last night
Black frustration
between sips of warm milk and cartoon exhibitionists on tv i let msyelf dream of conversation , shadows in the darkness escapinghand in hand without turning back, of a quiet revolution. but then im stumbling fumbling into my sober reality without the secret madness with only a stark entrance
where songs live on the exterior muscians at the doorstep a band playing up and voices sweetly whining , a piano stumbles on a guitar tries to wrest my attention words float up hoping to entice me as i fumble through with someone elses hands , in someone elses shoes
and i think of all the people like me in this place, people in walking parks , in houses like the morning, and lives like the calm murmer of a heart sleeping
who discuss stories of solitude with coffee cups and wonder without wandering, resisting those foul temptations
screaming through satisfied smiles of black frustration.
meghana
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