And so it is.

Dear Zonk,

This is the fourth time I’m beginning to type this post and I’m sick of the Select All – Delete – Start Over pattern. So I’m going to just type now and let it be. Nothing good seems to come of all the backspacing anyway. Because in spite of many unpleasantries stewing in my head, I really don’t have much to say.

*not says*

Goodbye for now,
K.

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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.

2 thoughts on “And so it is.”

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