Friday, February 25, 2005

random typings...

Just feel like blogging today. Not feeling good. No idea why. Waiting for the Nirvana songs to be copied, so that i can start listening to them. This is an updated list. Already had most of them. Blogging has become the new fad of ug3. A lot of people have created their own blogs. And most write about waking up, working, sleeping etc. Like a reporting form. I always thought that a blog was something more that just a detail of your daily activities. It should give an insight to how you feel, what you were thinking and so on. Though this is not generally applicable in my case either. A lot more people have started reading blogs. Hmm.
How is a woofer useful? Woofer is that thing that comes with the speakers and make the sound better. Well, that maybe its general use. But for me, its more than that. It is my footrest. Why am i telling that? I started this post with 'not feeling good'. The question is why? Why? Why? Why? No answer. Slightly disappointed maybe. Thought that after the hectic month that i had, i would finally find rest. Relax, read papers, novels, watch movies, just lie around. Did that for two days. Just two days. And then it started all over again. My schedule for the next 15 days again looks packed. I want to cry out loud. I want a vacation! I was just thinking how worn out i might have been looking those days. Today, i was relatively fresh when i went to class and many noticed that. I am bored blogging about my busy useless life. Am just reminded of my last sem. Had nothing to do then. Talked to my long time friend today. A considerable amount of water had flown in the river(which one?) after our last conversation. Having broken his leg, he is enjoying the time in the infirmary. Reminded me of my school days. Felt like reminiscing. Soon, i will be having similar thoughts regarding this place. What all would be ingrained in my mind? ...

I have always been seeing you
always wanted to be with you
your sight fills me with pleasure
the time spent with you, i treasure

for me, you are unattainable
like a fairy in a fable
you trot before my eyes
my poor self forlorn, sighs

Like innumerable objects both physical and abstract, this poem's construction has halted. Due to pressing engagements and lack of interest on the writer's part, this poem at its forming stage itself has been cruelly abandoned...