It never rains in October.

But there was storm today outside my window up until five minutes ago. I went to sleep for just one hour and when I woke it was almost like another day. I wonder what’s wrong with the weather, Zonk. It’s alright when it rains out of turn sometimes. But a storm in October..

There’s something about rain. You don’t think much of it if it’s sunny in July or chilly in May. But when weird weather comes as rain; it feels like a sign.

I don’t have much to say today, Zonk. And the rain’s let up now, so I’ll go paint.


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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