Oh, yes- Charles Bukowski

There are worse things than

Being alone

But it often takes decades

to realize this

and most often

when you do

it’s too late

and there’s nothing worse


too late- C.B

Could be or sometimes, you realize you got to not be be so afraid and take a leap of faith.

Was sorting some stuff out in the basement and found a bunch of pictures. Of course, there were all kinds of pictures of my brother and I, the sweetest ones I’m sharing. If you are an army and you like Jikook, you must have seen the videos with these lines, ‘find someone who looks at you like Jungkook looks at Jimin.’ I agree, definitely find someone at least once in your lifetime, who looks at you like you’re the only person in the room but that love could to bestowed on you by a friend, a parent or a sibling.

The one true love of my life, will always be this little boy, who insisted I only went from liking older men to liking little boys because he had grown up. Who knows why the heart wants what it wants?

I also found a few things that made me wonder, if one should not give up on love just yet- pictures, lyrics of one of my favourite songs written in a 14 year old’s handwriting, It would be a pity to never look and feel so besotted, again. It’s ironic that at one time I had to literally hit the brakes and tell myself enough and now I just can’t make myself, feel anything for anyone.

Did I Go Mad…

Did I Go Mad- Elise Cowen

A couple of days ago, a friend rang to find out if everything was alright. ‘You’ve not been ranting on your blog, when you’re quiet I worry about what is going on in your head, much more!’ she sounded concerned. Sometimes, I forget this is not one of my random notebooks lying around the house with all kinds of arbitrary information jotted in it but a blog that some, albeit a few people read.

What is going on in my head? Melancholy has come to embrace me, like it does…twice a year by the clock, a couple of weeks are harder but nothing to fret over, one bounces back like one invariably does. All kinds of inanimate objects ( that seem more real than most actual people do) surround one. The advantages of being a bibliophile with a terrible memory, I sometimes find poems and prose from a decade ago, that have vanished from my memory. My lack of recollection is no ways implies that the words aren’t par excellence, I invariably forget most of what I did and read, even a day before (The main purpose of maintaining this blog, is to help me remember).

How could I forget this brilliant, Jewish, suicidal woman who slept all day and used black slang? If you know me, you would know why I would like her.

Check her out. This is the last poem she ever wrote-

No love

No compassion

No intelligence

No beauty

No humility

Twenty seven years is enough.

Mother- too late- years of meanness- I’m sorry.

Daddy- What happened?

Allen-I’m sorry

Peter-Holy Rose Youth

Betty-Such womanly bravery

Keith- Thank you

Joyce- So girl beautiful

Howard-Baby take care

Leo- Open the windows and Shalom

Carol-Let it happen

Let me out now please-

Please let me in.