Phoochkas to right of me
Phoochkas to left of me
Phoochkas in front of me
Garnished and Savored
Spiced with chaat this shell
A pani puri dunking swell
Into the jaws of yum
Into my mouth a spell
  Phoochkas by the dozen!

Four letters worth all the wealth you need.

Jl 2016

Packing a snack
For the road ahead
You need to eat to survive
But a little extra food wouldn't hurt a man
Unless you ate food size of a caravan

Scrape,scrape,scrape.
Sounds of sad desperate melody as one would agree,
Tok-scrape-pause }x3

The happy anthem is ending,***.
Might as well give up,
corners are mere torture,
twisting,turning,
every angle you turn that butter knife,
It doesn't reach where you want it to.

The happy anthem is ending,
the desperate background and torturous beat
comes to an end,
leaving an imprint of sadness in your mind.

no more nutella for you.

if you had to talk without speaking would you touch, or just try and mouth the words? i will go through and like all your Instagram photos at once. i don’t care about the path less traveled, i am making my own path. i am trailblazing through the woods towards a destination that is completely unknown! often i drive my mom’s Chrysler van and crank the volume to the max. i’m sorry mom. i drive through the woods and put the windows down and let wind fly through my hair. i love driving through the woods almost as much as i love cities. catch me in the strangest places at the strangest times. i am in a restaurant on my laptop typing this and having a vanilla malt. this is diary entry #447. i have so much to tell you, there’s still so much that i haven’t said. well, if i had to talk without speaking words, i think i would touch.

jumping into a pool of yellow glowing liquid while rich, deep, full synth chords play. time has slowed down and i am in the middle of a cannonball and i can see bats flying over my head in the almost-darkness. friends surround me and are laughing in slow motion as i fly through the air. the sun has changed the whole scene to a tinted and washed dark orange and purple color. it’s like i put on a filter but it’s real life. the liquid is lukewarm, sort of like someone didn’t put a bowl of soup in the microwave long enough. there is no word in the human dictionary to describe this feeling. i’m done pretending that nothing matters all the time. i wish there was some way i could hook up my brain to a screen so you could see what i'm picturing right now. there’s no way that can happen though, so i will just continue trying to explain through words.

jumping across rooftops in the broad sunlight. it's morning and i'm headed to a bagel shop to get a blueberry cream cheese bagel. beautiful sunny day kind of music is playing through my headphones. from building to building, roof to roof, gutter to gutter i jump in my worn out shoes. Friday mornings aren’t usually this nice out, there’s not even a cloud in the sky. i can tell i’m getting close because of the smell in the air. jump down a fire escape and head inside. David is working at the counter this morning, and he’s excited to see a friend, as usual. i order and he throws an extra bagel in the bag as he usually does. David is a great guy. outside the world greets me warmly, it’s like 80 degrees out. are you kidding me? it’s April. it’s beautiful. i’m going to go bare foot down to the beach and draw some pictures of the waves. see you later.

it’s really late and dark outside, i’m not sure what the time is exactly. i’ve lost count of the minutes. i am at the high school’s track and am jogging on it. the lights are on, for whatever reason. the light is penetrating through a thick fog. it’s misting and getting all over my glasses but i don’t care enough to wipe it off. i have been running for what feels like hours now. it’s been dark forever. run off the track and sit on the bleachers for a bit, drink some water i brought with me. i’m lookin over the lit up field in the bright white lights. it looks like a scene in one of those Nike commercials, but it’s much better in person. i start nodding off and suddenly i’m in the back seat of a station wagon that i’ve never seen before. the leather seats are a dark maroon color, and the world is wizzing by outside the window at an incredible speed. the driver is a dark silhouette of someone i think i know, but can’t place my finger on. i’m getting incredibly nauseous from the speed we are driving at. “please stop!” i shout from the back seat. suddenly everything goes black again and i get the feeling like we’ve stopped because my body has that falling forward sensation. i awake to a bird sitting on my head at the track. it’s morning already.

What is a wet cat called?
"Stupid"
That's what the fish gurgled
That's what they laughed,
There bubbles of ridicule
Burst on my submerged ****.

I'm glad none took a bite, they
Were meant as lunch, but a wash
Was all I had.For they were but a snack,
A meal to be had, but I was the
Last laugh, as cats and water don't
Mix like fish and dry land.

I'm glad there memory fades, and
Doesn't last, for how could I keep
This a secret, that a cat out played
By fish in a bowl who got the *last laugh.