The blackest blue

What I would give.. 

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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.

4 thoughts on “The blackest blue”

  1. Dude! I saw the guitar you painted yesterday. I going to this band Blakc's album launch at this lounge called Kir (which incidentally is also the first part of your name) it was there right outside, looking straight at me, being held by a guy (probably the person you sold it to) showing it off to a couple of girls. I would have gone to take a closer look but he was just putting it back in its cover and I was a little busy trying to finish off some alcohol before I went inside. I also wasn't too much in the mood to go up and talk to strangers.-Zonk'd

  2. Wow. Small world indeed. It's a good thing I didn't go to take a closer look at it because then I would cease to be your nameless faceless cyberspace friend. =)

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