i'm sorry.

we are disintegrating in a barren land

well known now, to a broken man

doubting ourselves and blaming the stars

that took from us what we thought was ours

you politely ask for your love back

i cringe as your sweet voice cracks

and contorts into a soft hiss

then lean in for one last kiss

a myriad of faces, left behind

rot in the jail which is my mind

i shed a tear for i'll never find

what i'm really looking for;

your wounds are still sore 

you are but a memory

lost in the bittersweet chapters 

of a someone else's story

Every single night

I endure the flight

Of little wings of white-flamed

Butterflies in my brain

These ideas of mine

Percolate the mind

Trickle down the spine

Swarm the belly, swelling to a blaze

That's when the pain comes in

Like a second skeleton

Trying to fit beneath the skin

I can't fit the feelings in

Every single night's alight with my brain

What'd I say to her

Why'd I say it to her

What does she think of me

That i'm not what I ought to be

That i'm what I try not to be

It's got to be somebody else's fault

I can't get caught

If what I am is what I am, cause I does what I does

Then brother, get back, cause my breast's gonna bust open

The rib is the shell and the heart is the yolk yoke and

I just made a meal for us both to choke on

Every single night's a fight with my brain

I just want to feel everything

So i'm gonna try to be still now

Gonna renounce the mill a little while and

If we had a double-king-sized bed

We could move in it and i'd soon forget

That what I am is what I am cause I does what I does

And maybe i'd relax, let my breast shot bust open

My heart's made of parts of all that surround me

And that's why the devil just can't get around me

Every single night's alright, every single night's a fight

And every single fight's alright with my brain

I just want to feel everything

I just want to feel everything

I just want to feel everything

I just want to feel everything

fiona apple.

I am not an angry girl but it seems like I've got everyone fooled
Every time I say something they find hard to hear
They chalk it up to my anger and never to their own fear
And imagine you're a girl just trying to finally come clean
Knowing full well they'd prefer you were dirty and smiling
And I am sorry but I am not a maiden fair
And I am not a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere

- Not a Pretty Girl by Ani DiFranco

“Love is blind, they say; sex is impervious to reason and mocks the power of all philosophers. But, in fact, a person's sexual choice is the result and sum of their fundamental convictions. Tell me what a person finds sexually attractive and I will tell you their entire philosophy of life. Show me the person they sleep with and I will tell you their valuation of themselves. No matter what corruption they're taught about the virtue of selflessness, sex is the most profoundly selfish of all acts, an act which they cannot perform for any motive but their own enjoyment - just try to think of performing it in a spirit of selfless charity! - an act which is not possible in self-abasement, only in self-exultation, only on the confidence of being desired and being worthy of desire. It is an act that forces them to stand naked in spirit, as well as in body, and accept their real ego as their standard of value. They will always be attracted to the person who reflects their deepest vision of themselves, the person whose surrender permits them to experience - or to fake - a sense of self-esteem .. Love is our response to our highest values - and can be nothing else.”

― Ayn Rand

together

I break into crystals 

at will

just because I can

crumbling into tiny prisms that glitter

refraction of light to exactitude 

that filters through my being

thereafter

nonchalantly

accumulating myself

into a bunched whole

I have ascended 

from moment when 

over any calamitous occurance

I would explode, implode, fragmentalize

or shatter to smithereens 

like splinter of shivering glass 

No more...

I shall not impair my brilliance 

by becoming sorry shard

dug in my core

I am in control

Deepika Marwah

insecurity

it is interesting to witness, the colorful eccentricities which characterize and ultimately become source traits for the individuals that i have been lucky (and on various circumstances rather unlucky) to include in my limited understanding of life. the complexity of the human mind, which influences human behaviour, never ceases to amaze and amuse me. i have noticed a stark change in my own habits and temperament, for example, around forces/beings newer to my lifetime, which 'radiate' the light of their own personalities - the light does not hit me and deflect, rather i absorb some of the energy and incorporate it into my own. i am not entirely sure if these defective changes of energy are cemented into permanency, however have come to the conclusion that since we are still in our formative years, our perceptions are constantly subjected to change - that is to say we have lived every moment hitherto as formless - the concrete did not exist for it to crack or crumble.

though i stand a spectator a midst these various energies, most clearly visible to me is my own energy. what exists internally is not a morbid, perverse monster afraid of being seen in its true form... rather a secretive, seductive, deeper alertness, too close to my ego and consciousness to be let out into such a dynamic environment. thus i shield myself from the blinding intensity of my surroundings, and introduce to you a dampened version of my light, that is to say a 'sane' version of myself, containing the crazy to an inconspicuous, diminutive... "spark".

for those of you who look for real light shining from the depths of any individual, it is rarely found and difficult to miss. you will instantly realize that you are in the company of those who have already understood and come to terms with who they really are. those lucky ones existing in peace with their own energies, influencing rather than being influenced, shining their sun-like rays upon everything else, only to be admired, while i continue to flicker in doubt.

temptation, frustration
so bad it makes him cry
beneath your perfume and make up
youre just a baby in disguise
get out of here
before you have the time of your life
the time to change your mind
dont stand
dont stand so close to me
young girl, youre out of your mind
your love for me is way out of line

or
set your mind at rest
and let your dreams run free

it is unbelievably difficult to do the right things, and painfully easy to do the wrong things.

Strip

You're not the real deal
Not the one in the shades
You're still hiding in the dark
Just too afraid

Not the one to make phone calls
or drive around town
Not the one people run to
Not the typical clown

You're not the types to say no
But you just wont say yes
You don't fit into jeans
yet you refuse a dress

Trying too hard
But you can always do better
Too much weight on your shoulders
Only wearing a sweater

Take it all off
Strip down till nothings left
except the emptiness which defines you
The kind you know best

All in all, you're just another kid in a box

Little boxes on the hillside

Little boxes made of ticky tacky

Little boxes on the hillside

Little boxes all the same

Theres a pink one and a green one

And a blue one and a yellow one

And they are all made out of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses

All went to the university

Where they were put in boxes

And they came out all the same

And theres doctors and lawyers

And business executives

And they are all made out of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same. 

And they all play on the golf course

And drink their martinis dry

And they all have pretty children 

And the children go to school

And the children go to summer camp

And then to the university

Where they're put in boxes 

And they come out all the same. 

And the boys go into business

And marry and raise a family

In boxes made of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same.

Theres a pink one and a green one 

And a blue one and a yellow one

And they are all made out of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same.

- Malvina Reynolds, from the soundtrack of "Weeds."

Tarana Banana's Theme.

"you are someone else...but i am still right here."

surrender

an utterance of those words which terrify me so, and once they're out - they're out. a few glorious moments of liberation. thats all i wanted - but then those eyes stopped me. everytime i look into them i fail to understand what lies within. all i can see is a reflection of myself - and i see too much. here i am again, so vulnerable, so ready to give you absolutely everything i have to offer. here i am, inches away from your face, breathing heavily, wondering how to formulate into words these cluttered, confused thoughts. here you are, holding me by my hair and demanding from me exactly what i can't give you...and then you despise me! i remember the warm breath that lightly grazed my ear when you calmed me. i remember the quiet tremble of my voice when i denied you that convenience, pushing you away though i desperately wanted to pull you closer. i remember how every moment became torturous when time seemed to slow down, and there was no-one in the world but you and i. as if it wasn't hard enough to ignore your mere presence; you made it harder for me to hold my own with those lips...made it so easy to believe all your lies. i know who you are, but it doesn't matter to me anymore.

If I should stay, 
I would only be in your way. 
So I'll go, but I know 
I'll think of you every step of the way. 

And I will always love you. 

Bittersweet memories 
that is all I'm taking with me. 
So, goodbye. Please, don't cry. 
We both know I'm not what you need. 

And I will always love you. 
I will always love you. 

They say the grass is always greener on the other side.
They say there is a huge difference between what you want and what you need.
They say there is conflict between your head and your heart.

...They didn't happen to mention a way out, did they?

flux.

My name is Tarana. I'm 5"3, with light brown eyes and pale skin. I have many questions, but unfortunately, I lack answers. You'll often find me staring at the clouds, grinning with a lost air. There is a certain urgency in my thought, frailty in my action. There are many others like me. One would believe after countless nights lost to contemplation, we would come to conclusion of sorts. In time though, we will come to realize that the answers lie somewhere deep within us. Though I envy the sorts who make their decisions quickly, and shove their flags into the ground without a second thought, I feel proud to be confused.
In my confusion, I am able to digress and see beyond what is. I am able to perceive the world and its interesting inhabitants with an unbiased eye. I am a pallet, which can be painted any color I wish it to be. I am a fool who knows nothing, but will always be eager to learn more than those who believe they know it all.  I am in a constant state of flux, pushing harder and harder to find true meaning in life, even if sometimes I feel it is all in vain, that is to say our existence is merely a biological consequence - which perhaps it is.
I am the indecisive, I am the thinker. My "unsure" stance might be mistaken for an immature one, but this is who I am. My truth lies in not the answer, but in looking for it. I am and will always be entranced by the journey, and by those who I feel are worth being in mine. 

would like to profess my newfound love and respect for  MASSIVE ATTACK