| on a budding sycamore |
May 9th, 2008 3:35:16 am - Subscribe |
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 the misfit of freedom & happiness sublimates in the summer heat while the weight of careless ways hang on thin shoulders. 'this summer heat, makes me faint,' i mentioned to a friend a day back. needles of summer rain came by like an emotional drama queen; doing no any good to the apparent catastrophic weather. when days came, i wished for nights. and when nights came, i slept too early to savor the nightingale's lullaby. still, nights often seem to be set in a perfect jazz, blanketing all those exhausted thoughts. these free time on my hands, i seemed to be packing things into their places. 'what have i been neglecting? what are the things that require immediate attention? what are the things that i have always wanted to do but had no time to?'. questions piled in like clothes picked for travel. still, i secretly wished that next week won't come by so quickly. another period of time lost. another period of time when im supposed to jump into another rat race yet escaping with my quickest wits. nonetheless, i have started to feel the queasiness of this free-style simulacrum of 'summer vacation' (skepticism required here). there, i will attempt to write the stories behind every picture. though mid-way, my thoughts are suspended into a momentarily sort of amnesia. and.speech.becomes.in-co-he-rent.like.this. |
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