think i'm going for a walk now i feel a little unsteady i don't want noone to follow me except maybe you

i could make you happy, you know if you weren't already i could do a lot of things and i do

tell you the truth i prefer the worst of you too bad you had to have a better half she's not really my type but i think you two are forever and i hate to say it but you're perfect together

so fuck you and your untouchable face fuck you for existing in the first place and who am i that i should be vying for your touch who am i bet you can't even tell me that much

2:30 in the morning my gas tank will be empty soon neon sign on the horizon rubbing elbows with the moon safe haven of the sleepless where the deep fryer's always on radio is counting down the top 20 country songs

out on the porch the fly strip is waving like a flag in the wind you know i really don't look forward to seeing you again soon.

you look like a photograph of yourself taken from far far away i won't know what to do i won't know what to say

so fuck you...

see you and i'm so perplexed what was i thinking what will i think of next where can i hide in the back room there's a lamp that hangs over the pool table and when the fan is on it swings gently side to side there's a changing constellation of balls as we are playing i see orion and say nothing the only thing i can think of saying

is fuck you...

The video of a live concert in which she tears through this song. Listen to it and say fuck you.

Tonight my brother, in heavy boots, is walking through the bare rooms over my head, opening and closing doors. What could he be looking for in an empty house? What could he possibly need there in heaven? Does he remember his earth, his birthplace set to torches? His love for me feels like spilled water running back to its vessel.

At this hour, what is dead is restless and what is living is burning.

Someone tell him he should sleep now.

My father keeps a light on by our bed and readies for our journey. He mends ten holes in the knees of five pairs of boy's pants. His love for me is like his sewing: various colors and too much thread, the stitching uneven. But the needle pierces clean through with each stroke of his hand.

At this hour, what is dead is worried and what is living is fugitive.

Someone tell him he should sleep now.

Last night I talked to my brother who is more than a brother, Kiran. He was in a crazed state of mind, the woman he loved was engaged to some random stranger yesterday because she didn't have the courage to do otherwise and I suspect perhaps didn't have enough faith in herself to do so. It's as if our lives on two different continents were running on similar threads, as if the same play is playing out: getting involved with women who don't belong to themselves and who will never will because either they are too cowardly or too selfish and then mourning about it, feeling sad about it.

But then as I was talking to him, I got increasingly angry as I realised that at a level we have been taken along for a ride, even if inadravently, we who are madmen, the passionate people and perhaps even too brave in a world such qualities are rare.

And both of us ended the conversation with a big "fuck them". And there was so much relief in saying those words, because if someone else thinks we are not good enough then thats their fucked up problem and not ours. And if someone thinks love is about getting stuff off a list, a list which they themselves lack in a large measure, then we say "fuck them". And if someone lacks the courage to say "yes" and to stand by that, fuck them.

And with that conversation, all things have ended: mourning, sadness, illusions of love, the big idea of waiting for something to happen because seeing his voice, broken and sad, I knew that it's time for me to get fucking selfish when others don't have even the basic decency to be a little altrustic. As Granpa said who need enemies when one has "friends" like these!! Enough of this business of giving and giving some more and getting nothing in return but voices of dissatisfaction of who I am. Love is a function of sacrifice and not a function of return. This is a lesson both of us learnt from the world and from the relationship we share.

So now it's time to put useless stuff to sleep and get on with my life.

to Life!! S