smile

I look up at the moon in the
sky as I always do, standing with you.
I look at your moonlit face and everything
around us covered in the 
silver glow and the calm gray.
I smile. 
I look at the starry eyes that
smile back with the slight crescent.
I look at your smile and
eyes widen as we share this moment, 
stare as the heaven smiles
back at us.

I haven't seen you

Argh! my neck hurts 
with the long staring 

at the sky

but I haven't seen it, all 

is still, apart 

from the twinkling stars

like eyes, blinking 

planets, in the 

dark and the white 

aura they spread along 

with the half moon

hanging alone in the sky

like a lonely blob 

on a black granite floor

strewn with milk. 

But I haven't seen you, 

yet. I wait.

I rub my eyes, longing to see

you, unaware of it

agape, my mouth

until the yawn hurt

my thought 

procedure of your rescue 

from the black hole and the

gravity of it. The love

we share through 

the time, the distance,

the difference, to save you from

it all and to see

but I haven't seen

you, Love. 

I wait.

Where the fuck is Mars?

Rumors around that the world could see Mars in the sky[where else?] at 12:30 a.m. 11 October, 2008.
____________________ _ _ _ _ . .
I went up to the terrace in hopes to find you. I could see the Orion and the half moon and some stars sprinkled here and there, but I couldn't see you, but you weren't there. I haven't seen you yet, I don't know what you look like. I don't know where to look, but I know where you are.

Do I ever get to see you?
Do we ever meet? 

Maybe sometime later. Maybe, in 2287, the next time you come. I'll wait for you. 


Later. 

I am happy.

Why does it have to bother you?

I'm still in a shock of what just happened. It could be a lie. You could just be playing some prank with me. Why should I trust you? But you sure made me happy.
I am happy.

. .

I want to be in love. I want to feel what it is like.
I'm happy, and I want you to know that I am.
I'm alone, and I want someone to know that. I am. I exist. 
I'm sad, and I want to hide it from the rest of the world. But be there just one someone whom I could talk to, about it, whom I could be with. With whom I could live this life and not just exist. 
Done. 

I won't write anymore, now. It's depressing. I was happy, and now I'm not. 


Later.

4th October, 2008. 2:48 p.m:

Rearranged my room. Happy now, dirty now. Need to take a shower, but I know I won't.

I'm tired*sigh*.

*dozes off*..

5th October, 2008. 9:42 a.m:

Room's looking fine. I'm not. Haven't had a shower yet[since yestersday]. Had been to the dandiya last night. It was boring. 

me{the I} at fault.

How long do you expect me to run after you and just to find that you are really far away, out of reach and/or you are running with me but away from me, just adding on to the distance? How much effort can I put into keeping in touch with you, when I know that its only me who's making the effort? Then I get tired of putting all the effort and the running, I give up. And that's where I'm at fault, its me{the I} who didn't make the effort to keep in touch, its me{the I} who didn't try. I mean what the fuck?! I'm sorry, I give up already. And then I have my complaints. I tried to be there for you, oh! should I say I have been there for you, but when I wanted you to be there, you were not. When I wanted to talk, you had your stuff to talk about all the time and you never realised that I could have something to talk/to share/to ask. All you did was apologise, that it was you talking, all the while, away and leave. You never bothered to know if there was anything I had to talk about, if there was anything bothering me. How long can you expect me to have carried on like that? I moved on, I found another friend who would listen to me, who understood when I needed to talk. I know one can never see one's own fault. And I know I don't see any, even if I am at fault. I don't see any reason to apologise. :Later.