Agoraphobia (Protect your nuts)
I want to stay inside, I want to stay inside for good (Brandon Boyd having post-Morning View issues, considering the quality of A Crow Left of the Murder, I'm not really surprised, although Agoraphobia and Megalomaniac are pretty good songs, all considered.)
Another really good band that doesn't seem to get much airplay here is The Spill Canvas - All Hail the Heartbreaker, Black Dresses, Sunsets and Car Crashes.
"I'll let you get the best of me
Because there's nothing else that I do well
I'll be the giver and you'll be the taker
I guess that's how this one's gonna go I'll be the giver and you'll be the taker
You've got me down on my knees and I proclaim
All hail the heartbreaker"
Also (and since we're on the subject of random music) – I really like Thirsty Merc. Or, as I like to call them - "I wonder how bored Kelvin must have been to send me every single one of their songs." They have some really unusual hooks – Emancipate Myself, Undivided Love, My Completeness.
So there was this sweet old lady walking past the office today, and I swear to God her shirt read, and I quote – protect your nuts. I wasn't quite she knew exactly what her shirt said, or just how funny I was finding it. She looked at me like she thought I was having an epileptic fit, it was overarchingly amusing. I guess you had to be there.
ALSO – I really want to go salsa dancing tonight, but its raining – and it looks like Mihika is still in the office. So, that might not work out. My latest addiction, along with tarot reading and blogging apparently. I'm a Gemini, give me a month, I'll be skate-boarding and listening to Metallica, ACDC and Alice in Chains again.
What did Kanye hear them say?
Firstly, I need to appologise to Karan. For two things – first of all for writing only (and I quote) about "sad things" – when the world is so obviously full of all the wonderful, joyous, miracle-type of situations which I should be enjoying. But, in my defense – and as Neha and I like to say (especially when we're spending a Friday night NEAR Emerald Hill, on the steps of the Australian school – that's right, NEAR) – Happy don't rhyme with nothing. Which is incredibly redundant, because a) I dont write in rhyme (only iambic pentameter, the occasion haiku, the odd limerick maybe) and b) snappy, crappy, nappy, flappy (although where you would use flappy in a poem I'd like to know). Right – so I'm supposed to write happy poetry, for Karan, which I will try to do. I also need to appologise for not going to Bangkok. Despite promising to go. Despite the fact that it is a LOT closer to me than London. And despite the fact that we have had a series of dibilitatingly alcohol-based long weekends that could have easily been spent (debilitated by alcohol) in Thailand. In my defense (I'm good at this, I know), the whole Thaksin (or Thaskin, according to Neha) thing worried me. And I'm not good with short flights. They seem so ethereal. But loving Karan is not the issue. Did you hear that Karan – loving you is NOT the issue. So a trip will be planned soon, very soon. And we can MBK and Cinebon and all that good stuff. Oh, and I am learning how to read Tarot, so I can predict your future. Here, let me try – "You're going to come to Singapore to visit Neha because it makes her life a lot easier/guilt-free." I'm really good. Honest.
Hoshwalon ko khabar kya – bekhudi kya cheez hai.
Its hindi Ish, go look it up 
Can't wait till London!
Strictly Ballroom (pandan valley)
In complete deference to Mathur's lack of any sort of musicality whatsoever, I'd like to point out the fact that selective deafness is not only an attributable deficiency, it's also highly convenient. Also, in the event that she one days manages to evict an array of notes that form some/any sort of "tunable rambling", I hope one of us has a recording device present. We've already filmed the lion dance. In front of Paragon. After 4 glasses of wine. Its inspiring that someone so inebriated managed to move so fluidly. So, so fluidly. Like a belligerent, albeit talented, lion. It's actually quite a blessing that she can't sing – can you imagine what that would have been like. The Wizard of Oz, relocated to Beijing, on speed. Anyways, my point was this – I was thinking of that day (well, the many days) we would lie in Ish's bed and watch Strictly Ballroom. The WORST Australian accents ever. I think I was only conscious through the entire thing once, Neha – maybe 1/2. Not even. But there was this song – remember? We'd always argue about the lyrics? Well, I was right. I think. One of us was right. So apparently it goes -
You won’t admit you love me. And so how am I ever to know? You only tell me Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. A million times I ask you, And then I ask you over again. You only answer Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. If you can’t make your mind up, We’ll never get started. And I don’t wanna wind up Being parted, broken-hearted. So if you really love me, Say yes. But if you don’t, dear, confess. And please don’t tell me Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. If you can’t make your mind up, We’ll never get started. And I don’t wanna wind up Being parted, broken-hearted. So if you really love me, Say yes. But if you don’t, dear, confess. And please don’t tell me Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
Brown paper
I know you do not love me
because I have been loved before
because I have felt the frustration,
the quiet desperation
that love carries in her uncompromising jar.
It beats against the glass -
with hard wings, threatening to take the sky
threatening to swallow the moon.
I know you do not love me
because there is a fight in love
she knows what she believes in
like the Empress – who uncompromisingly
suckles her child at her large breast,
whose eyes threaten to eclipse the universe,
as she plays with all of its light.
I know you cannot love me
because there is no self in love
no Ego, no contention.
No craving of another touch, word, body -
even on the coldest, lonliest night.
You are all hands and tongue and want.
Love is a prayer – an invocation;
it is you seeing me within you and reaching for me
Uncompromisingly.
I know you do not love me
- because you leave me when you could stay.
It does not seem to worry you
That I am cold.
