'God has a purpose.' She insisted.
'You mean a twisted sense of humour.' I insisted right back.

He named his daughter Keira.
Just one letter away from my name, I couldn't help noticing.
After the actress? I asked.
Yes; the actress. He replied, an imperceptible pause later.

Uncomfort

My heart finds itself a home.
In
My chest
My stomach
My throat.

Rain

Andrew Kelly: Hey, want to play some scrabble.
Me: Yeah
Andrew Kelly: Great.
Scrabulous
Me: How droll
Hoover's taking effect
Andrew Kelly: Huh? - Scrabulous Kiran, it's a scrabble website where you play online.
Me: Oh
He he
Ok
Now how was I supposed to know that?
Andrew Kelly: Well I thought you were psychic.
Me: I make it rain somethimes
Andrew: My bad
Me: That's the extent of my super power
Andrew Kelly: Nice, I could use some rain here, does sometimes warrant now?
Me: If I talk about it it doesn't seem to work
Bummer no?
Andrew Kelly: Thats convient. :)
Me: Yeah
Andrew Kelly: It's like the man who goes invisible only when no ones looking at him
Me: But also inconvenient
Especially if you want to show off that you made it rain
Andrew Kelly: Bummer then.


[A little while later]


Joanne Ninan: It's raining it's pouring
Joanne Ninan: :P
Pouring here
Me: Yay
Joanne Ninan: Should cool things down a bit


[Parallel conversation]


Me: Hey Andrew
Andrew Kelly: Yeah?
Me: Look outside your window
What's it look like?
(:



Category 1: Unbelief
Category 2: Rainmaking
Category 3: Super powers
Category 4: Fabulous Scrabble
Category 5: Use of funny sounding words (droll)

Crying

My eyes were crying the other day.
I don't know why
Because I wasn't.

Category: Crybaby, chillyfry baby

Want

I never understood this not wanting.
Even though I don't.

Hail Mary, Holy Mary

Hail Mary full of grace
- I wonder if those flowers are real
Holy Mary mother of God
- I wonder if she cares if they are
Hail Mary, Holy Mary
-Hail Mary, Holey Mary?


Location: In front of the shrine to Mary, in St. Mary's Church
Category: Praying

Someone ran their fingers through my hair
And held me
And tangled their feet with mine
As I slept
Like a boy might have.
Only,
It was a girl.


Category: Platonic/Fiction

Land Route from Arabia to India

Two years ago she (my older, wizened flatmate) told me to start praying for a good husband.
And so I smiled quasi seriously at God and said, 'You heard her.'
Neglecting entirely to ask him to make me a good wife.





(:

'It doesn't have a ghost(meaning to say soul or spirit)before one or two months.' She said. Brushing away a little distractedly my concern for a child, or rather the unlikely suspicion of a child, not yet born, not likely to be born, even if the suspicion was true.


...

Nearly

I'm being coerced into staying here.
More money, it's offered.
How happy it makes everyone.
Ignoring it was never hard. It's people that were always harder.
It makes me nearly want to cry.



Mood: Uneven

I like better the idea of not being entirely in control.

Current State: Hoping to God, it's true, lurkingly suspecting, it's not

-I'd like to ask a question.


-Shoot.


-Do you know what good comes out of?


-You tell me.


-Out of bad, that's what.


-Because you can't make it
out of anything else.
-Did you know that?


-No, l didn't.
-There's another question
I'd like to ask you.
-You say there's only bad
to start with...
...and the good must come from the bad.
-Who's to determine
what's good and what's bad?


-You?
-Why not?



-How?


-Why, that's easy.
-Make it up as you go along.




(All the King's Men)

Walking back through the park after dinner.
Hungry cat.
I stop to feed it with our left over food.
The two other aunties whom I'm with, who had walked on ahead, initially oblivious; stop.
'Don't.' says the first, disapprovingly.
'God feeds the animals.' says the other persuasively, from her depth of biblical wisdom.
'Well God sure as hell DIDN'T feed this one.' I shout. It's stomach is noticibly caved in from hunger.
Fed it anyway.

I was given the most unusual talking to this weekend.
'Don't take this the wrong way.' A slightly embarrassed smile.
'What?' I look at her questioningly.
She goes on to give me an education on teen age boys and how they're going through 'hormonal' changes.
And me being the closest in age to her teen age son, could I discretely distance myself from the boy.
Er..
'Have you said anything to the boy?' I ask.
'No.'
'Because he's at that age and he'll take it the wrong way?'
'Yes.'
'Alright.' I say, wondering how I'm going to explain this distance thing to a boy who's grown attached to me because I listen to his stories about all the girls he likes and all the things he did with his friends and all the boys he's hit,wanted to and going to. That and I let him scam money, chocolate milk and nesquick from me now and again.
How to manage him and his mother.
So in the evening, the boy and I, we're lying down on our backs on the floor under the fan talking and I say 'Listen, I can't hang with you anymore.'
'What?? Why?'
'Can't tell you.' I smile at him.
'You're messing with me.'- He.
'Not.'- Me.
'I swear, if you are, I'll pound you.' He threatens.
'Not.' I say again.
'Tell me then.' He cajoles.
So I explain, that it doesn't affect me in any way, but he's going to be terribly embarrased.
He wants me to tell him anyway.
So I say. 'Alright, all the aunties think you have a crush on me. Ha ha :)'
'What?!!' He disclaims. 'You?!! You do know that even if you were the last girl on Earth, etc, etc.'
'Got it.' I say. (last girl on Earth, it seems) So from now on a couple of feet distance good?'
'Good.' He agrees.
And that everybody, is that.

It's starting to seem like a refuge home for women, the place where I stay.
The first lady left her husband, the second lady's husband left her, the third lady is in between deciding whether to leave or not leave her husband and is, in the meantime camping at our place, the fourth is waiting impatiently for a husband to marry and then;
there's me.

Current living situation: Crowded

They started talking about religion again
And I turned my head away to get away from it all
And noticed the huge cross built into the door to the entrance of the house.
Upside down it was.
Ironic.

Butterflies

They were there
Before they went away.

'Remember them here.' I said, tapping the side of her head, when she asked me what sort of camera she should buy.





Category: Pictures/Memories/Toys

It never mattered how beautiful you were.
Just whether you could hold me.
Hold my attention.

Beautiful eyes.
They had the most beautiful eyes
The Afghani labourers.
Strong features and beautiful eyes.
But what was there to do
With an abundance of beautiful eyes?

The shiny shoes.
They hurt my feet.
:(




Currently: Getting high on turpentine.
:)