12 o’clock Fortune

*static static*

Mood: Peaceful
Weather: pleasant/AC
Now: 12:27 a.m., Sunday

Sleep well. Take time off to watch the seven o'clock cartoon. Make sure your cell phone's charged and your ipod battery's full. Celebrate. It's Sunday and the last time its today. And three boys are waiting at the door go down and let them in. Tune that 2nd string with a plectrum turning blue.
A day more and the paper's here. Fuck it; what doesn't bother you don't try and bother it. 
The Universe may listen. And it may not make you pay.

Goodnight Universe.


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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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