Who am I kidding. This is the third post for the day and the only one that counts..
I thought I'd defeated the blues when the blacks left me. But who am I kidding. Those stay no matter what. And worse than that is the haunting feeling that I know where I'd be if it weren't for you..

There are things we do not know. Like why moods swing this way. What I'd give to stay home and write a song today..but a girl must do what a girl must do and walls need painting sometimes. Or all the fucking time. How I hate these neverends. 

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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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