If you’ve been reading my blog since I started writing my blog, then you should know that I’ve had some troubled internships. No pay, no work, no letting-me-go-home, fat fucking asshole chut of a boss that traumatized me and made my life hell for two whole months. It seems he left Green (name changed to confuse you and also out of habit), but it seems he also got another job. Why anyone wants to hire a poker faced killjoy (fucking fat one at that) is beyond me. Maybe he went through an NGO. Chut.
Point being. I happend to run a blogsearch on him today. And I found his blog. All three of them. If I didn’t know who it was I’d have thought he’s a seventeen year old girl that’s been dumped and is trying hard to express her angst through terribly written poetry. I’m tripping.
Wish I could link you’ll, but that’s going too far.
Will mail the link to some of you on the sly maybe ;)

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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