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Archive for the ‘filigree days’ Category

Deepest.

Words are inadequate. Gestures are too fleeting. You live in the veins, in the deepest of my being.

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Twilight.

Let me be with your ghost in the quiet. Words and gestures are too fleeting. Here, you belong to me in the deepest.

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Isn’t It A Pity?
(Gershwin)

Why did I wander
Here and there and yonder
Wasting precious time
For no reason or rhyme
Isn’t it a pity
Isn’t it a crime
My journey is ended
Everything is splendid
Meeting you today
Has given me a wonderful idea 
Here I stay

It’s a funny thing
I look at you
I get a thrill I never knew
Isn’t it a pity we never met before

Here we are at last
It’s like a dream
The two of us, a perfect team,
Isn’t it a pity we never met before

Imagine all the lonely years we’ve wasted
You with the neighbors
I at silly labors
What joys untasted
You reading Heine
Me somewhere in China

Let’s forget the past, let’s both agree
That I’m for you and you’re for me
And it’s such a pity we never, never met before

Imagine all the lonely years you wasted
Fishing for salmon
Losing at backgammon
What joys untasted
My nights were sour
Spent with Schopenhauer

Let’s forget the past, let’s both agree
That I’m for you and you’re for me
And it’s such a pity we never, never met before

.

.

.

(Secretly waiting for the one who has wasted years reading Heine and Schopenhauer, or fishing for salmon and losing at backgammon. I am here, wasting my precious years too.)


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Happy birthday.

This really choked me up. A birthday wishes from my friend Vinod.

May you will always have a long and happy life, be healthy and merry, full of hopes, dreams, anticipation, excitement, and spirit, and most importantly, uh, may you will find him. Him that will stay in your bed forever. Him that will never walk out that door for good. Him that will cherish you. Him that will be bad enough to make you want him, but good enough to have only you for him. Him that will tickles your brain, and… other body parts too. And him that will put a ring on your finger, only when you want him to do that.

Love you! God bless you! All the best for you, and may today and more will always be wonderful for you.

*choked up*

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People who commit suicide never know that the morning after somehow looks better and bearable. They never give morning a chance.

I hope I will always give morning a chance. Every one of them.

A promise made after an unkind night. A promise that needs to be recalled and never be forgotten.

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Beyond.

It’s beyond love. It’s an all-consuming adoration that never ceases. Heeding every word, seeking every approval. Relentlessly.

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Inadequate.

The Ghost called yesterday evening. Shared with me his dreams, fears, and hopes. And his daughter. How she likes to listen to Ghost by Indigo Girls. (!)

Oh, dear Ghost, words are inadequate.

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