You know how they always say music gets you high.. I've heard it a hundred times, I thought I'd known what that had meant. But either I've never been high before or I've never made music like I did last night. Lie down and play slow, depressing songs and get a soloist to jam with you, and I swear to god you're stoned. Your veins have turned to whiskey with neither the stench nor bile of it.

'Music, such music, is sufficient gift..Why ask for joy, why hope not to grieve..'
-Vikram Seth.

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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.

3 thoughts on “faaak..”

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