[0029]

So much rain, so much life like the swollen sky
of this black August. The sun,
broods in her yellow room and won't come out.

Everything goes to hell; the mountains fume
like a kettle, rivers overrun; still,
she will not rise and turn off the rain.

She is in her room, fondling old things,
my poems, turning her album. Even if thunder falls
like a crash of plates from the sky,

she does not come out.
Don't you know I love you but am hopeless
at fixing the rain ? But I am learning slowly

to love the dark days, the steaming hills,
the air with gossiping mosquitoes,
and to sip the medicine of bitterness,

so that when you emerge,
parting the beads of the rain,
with your forehead of flowers and eyes of forgiveness,

all with not be as it was, but it will be true
(you see they will not let me love
as I want), because, then

I would have learnt to love black days like bright ones,
The black rain, the white hills, when once
I loved only my happiness and you.

- Derek Walcott (Dark August)

[0028]

"She was the embodiment of big-city scrappiness, a mean streets survivor who got ahead on a good grin, good moves, and a better hustle"

---

Home bound soon. Seriously cannot wait.

[0027] - Timeless

[0026]

"Trust me, Nina, you're going to grow older and you'll realize you don't need a sister. For a lot of reasons. You'll see, give it time." Those were the same words my mother uttered each time five year old me asked her why I couldn't have a sister. Growing up, my brothers both had each other, as a same-sex sibling. They had this bond. A bond which was greatly coveted by me. I would always be the one left out during the endless hours playing on the Nintendo 64, I would be the one who didn't have anyone to play swords with, and I would be the one who was always double-teamed on. Whenever they picked on me, I'd always run to my mother and beg her for a sister. And she would always reply with the same few sentences. At the time, those words didn't help me, or give me any amount of comfort. However her hugs and kisses always did, and for a short while I forgot about my plight of not having a sister to share my things with, or double-team my brothers with. As the years progressed, and I grew older, I began to realize that I really did not in fact need a sister. I was the light of my father's eyes, a diamond in the rough as he liked to say. I basically got anything and everything I asked for. I began to understand that I was indeed happy being the only girl, and on top of that, being the youngest. I didn't have to compete with anyone, I was it. And that feeling was the greatest feeling ever...albeit a little self-centered, but really, who cares :P My brothers started showing me tonnes of love, taking care of me, shooing the bad boys away, making sure I was safe. It was finally a great thing having older brothers. When I was five, you could have shot me before I'd have admitted that. Later as I matured, and needed someone else besides my mother to confide in, I noticed I did indeed have sisters. Two beautiful sisters. One who I had known since I was a wee little 5 year old, and the other since I was an obnoxious 14 year old. Upon understanding the fact that I actually had sisters to share secrets with, and clothes, and love; I went through that stunning realization that what my mother used to say during those long ago days was, in high accuracy, very true. I didn't need a biological sister. I had found her in two very different women. Two women who I cannot imagine my life without, two women who are in many aspects closer to me than many biological sisters are to each other. In my very personal opinion, I have no need or desire whatsoever for an actual sister my parents birthed. Looking back, it's quite funny how I used to beg and plead for one. But as Anais Nin said "there are very few human beings who recieve the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them aquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by succesive developements, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic." And that is exactly how I came about this truth of mine. Slowly but surely. So yes, I have two brothers. But I also have two sisters; closer to my heart than blood itself.

[0025]

[0024]

Oops I guess I shot you, my finger's on the trigger. I had a bullet with your name on it. I'm a sex pistol, my love should be illegal. Real deal baby, I'm no counterfeit. Line 'em up, knock 'em down, if looks could kill. My body's fully loaded and I got more ammo. You've been hit by a small criminal. A bad girl, gotcha crying to your mama saying "I can't believe it." I seen your type bring a knife to a gun fight. Got caught up in a bad fight and I think I made him mad, right? I shoot 'em bang bang* I line 'em up and watch 'em fall.

[0023]

Humphrey Bogart -- Casablanca

[0022]

A misunderstanding is a very powerful concept. Deep roots of a misunderstanding can ruin many things if not completely resolved. Some misunderstandings go on for years, some are very shortlived. But as long as the misunderstanding is alive, it slowly worsens the wound. Untill everything related to it is black; irrevocable. Pride comes in the way sometimes, and the misunderstanding amplifies. How do we erase it? Sometimes we just don't, and we live our lives succumbing to the injury. When do we know enough is enough? Sometimes we just don't, and we never know what could have been different. However, it was once said that "the afflictions we are accustomed to, do not disturb us." And in time, such is the truth, because once and for all the affliction becomes a numb void, and we get used to it. And we live our lives. Not pausing to think about the past. We avoid the subject. We move on.