Revealed: Your Midnight Snack Caused The Recession

My friend N, who is studying to become a Chartered Accountant, took time out from her busy day to bring me up to speed on the root causes of loss of livelihood; they were such a discovery, I could hardly make sense of all those important economics-y finance-y logic-y reasons such as:-

• Missing prayers
• Sleeping in between afternoon prayers
• Eating in the dark

Well.
Won't you just look at that.
All you folk out there who get the nighttime munchies or acute bouts of narcolepsy, you should be ASHAMED of yourselves!

Nanao Chan

I miss my Nanao Chan.

Hermit

Waboonsa.
The verification word as I commented on a blog.

God, I'm bored.
It's not just about posts now. Nothing interests me, nobody interests me, and after all the laughter & smiles have faded away, I'm left with this gnawing emptiness. Literally emptiness; I would be angry at everyone for 'giving' me 'something' that makes the absence of anything even more obvious, but if I could get angry, I wouldn't be empty in the first place because even anger fills.
I feel nothing.
It scares me because I don't want them to know, I don't want them to get tired of me though it feels like it's too late to prevent that. So I withdraw instead. They can't realize they don't want me if I'm not around for them to not-want, I hear myself reason. With myself.
(How in the world that makes sense is beyond me. Haha.)
And I withdraw to my places: silent words that weren't written for me, voices that don't speak to me, pictures without people and people without pictures, tapping, clicking, sounds to drown out the sounds that matter, building layer after layer to separate myself from a world I cannot bear to lose.
(People tell me I'm impossible to understand; I agree--I've been at it for nearly 20 years, and I still do things that leave me puzzled.)

Something I remembered today which I wrote a long time ago:

Once Upon A time

Once upon a time,there was a little girl.
She was a very strange little girl and one day,she met a powerful wizard.
Now,the wizard was the most powerful of them all but the little girl did not know it.
So what came to pass was this:
The little girl annoyed the wizard,and the wizard cursed the little girl.
The little girl had to spend all of eternity searching for something in a mirror.
The more she looked,the less she could see.
And the little girl never really found what she was looking for.

(The Hermit by =shutupandwhisper on deviantART)

Elizabeth B. Browning: A Man's Requirements

A Man's Requirements

I

Love me Sweet, with all thou art,
Feeling, thinking, seeing;
Love me in the lightest part,
Love me in full being.

II

Love me with thine open youth
In its frank surrender;
With the vowing of thy mouth,
With its silence tender.

III

Love me with thine azure eyes,
Made for earnest grantings;
Taking colour from the skies,
Can Heaven's truth be wanting?

IV

Love me with their lids, that fall
Snow-like at first meeting;
Love me with thine heart, that all
Neighbours then see beating.

V

Love me with thine hand stretched out
Freely -- open-minded:
Love me with thy loitering foot, --
Hearing one behind it.

VI

Love me with thy voice, that turns
Sudden faint above me;
Love me with thy blush that burns
When I murmur 'Love me!'

VII

Love me with thy thinking soul,
Break it to love-sighing;
Love me with thy thoughts that roll
On through living -- dying.

VIII

Love me in thy gorgeous airs,
When the world has crowned thee;
Love me, kneeling at thy prayers,
With the angels round thee.

IX

Love me pure, as muses do,
Up the woodlands shady:
Love me gaily, fast and true,
As a winsome lady.

X

Through all hopes that keep us brave,
Farther off or nigher,
Love me for the house and grave,
And for something higher.

XI

Thus, if thou wilt prove me, Dear,
Woman's love no fable,
I will love thee -- half a year --
As a man is able.

I feel so bored these days, what with the exams and my general flakiness.

Every time I go to give an exam, I think of writing up a post about the whole experience. Because there's just so much to tell about.
I wonder why I never actually get around to it then.

I am no longer friends with Caveman.
Last night Caveman messaged me to thank me for once being a part of his life.
I thanked him back.
And just like that, strangerhood settled in.

I'm listening to wonderful slow song right now: "Moray piya, tou nah samjha.."
I suddenly love this song; does anyone know what it's called or who sang it?

I was reading an essay in a book, 'Constructing Gender: Feminism in Literary Studies', and it featured an excerpt from a poem by Browning [see quote] and it touched me--what does it mean, I wonder, if my love-life matches a poem?
I cannot walk away.
I'm addicted to that "one last try."
Maybe if I could, I wouldn't be here. If I could leave, I'd have left a lot of things behind a long, long time ago.
But maybe if I could, I wouldn't have put up with MH or Angel. I wouldn't have tried so hard. I wouldn't have tried too hard.
And I can feel this way because of Him.

There are people who make you feel safe, who make you feel like you could run to and they would hide you away from the world in their arms. And then there are people who give you the courage to stop and turn around.

The less He asks of me, the more I want to give.
The less He wants proven, the more I need to prove.
It's ironic.

I love tests.