Feelings

Namaskaram bloggers and blood suckers :P!!

I am very much fine and my mind needs some pabulum or anything to keep myself away from all these. Whats happening. I have been rouse from sleep since 7 am. Its Sunday ugly morning and I am still confused what to do. All these while I was listening to White Stripes one song ~ You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You're Told)~. Literally I raped the next button..I suspect all the things now, don’t know why..I don’t know what lerve is .I just do what am not to..From the morning a visage is floating inside. I try hard not to but my sensory inputs keeps on falling into its vicinity. This blog post is little early for all these I believe.. but whatever. My blog is another one of those wonderful things which I love..How many bad times I have ward off ,sublimating my mental anguish and frustration with it. Whenever the wallpaper of my life crumbled from people cunning endeavor ,it was there. Its like one of those things sometimes found in old school/college autograph/slam books /scrap notebook where we write. Though I never had any lol. So many things are churning inside my head .This snazzy little thing that happened to me. And I can’t get it out of my head. Seems my inner chrome is daubed by the colour of repeated ricochet. Wish I could unfurl what’s inside me. But I don’t want to make a mockery of the lined up things. Fuck, here I am raving about it again (yeah again)! Well not directly this time, but am afraid to type all .as I close my eyes, I went blind. But in the distant alley of my mind lane I can see someone waiting. As I dare myself to walk, that blurred up face comes alive and I open my eyes. Addition to all the things of one projects that have been popping up all is having all my attention. I am really scared sometimes. My inner self knows with bamboo and straw I can`t build a concrete home. All I can do now is sniffing what inside me like the pages of an old book. Books which I cajole like a sweet dumpees. Wish people could be like those. Always there. Wish humans and feelings could be like that. The air seems to be polluted with her sweet rumination now. And unfortunately i am that reader. I can’t resist the smell of those yellow pages of her face. I keep turning them to find a meaning. Every time they tease me with its genteel gawky touch. Like a irresistible karmic energy am falling into its cyclotron. In the labyrinth I am lost. What’s this ??. The shackles are invisible yet am tamed to a unnamed feeling. That image is floating in upper department because am kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the person making. Slowly each day, each acquaintance is a straight forward framework. It was never been so complicated. How to find a synchronize each things from thought to action . its magical I must say. I don’t want sing that most emaciated vocal cords like others. My head nerve plays little bit of acoustic rock, thrown to measure the effect caused. Icy thumbs to every thoughts. A everlasting echo ripples and die at my own lerve banks. Something is mystical about that façade. I am lost in my own sky ,the same feeling after I binge myself with that sweet face. It’s a bitter sweet feeling though.