... yes we both know what memories can bring, they bring Diamonds and Rust.
Nothing specific as such. Lots pending.
| Two days back I went Cold Turkey again. The first time was in mid-2004, around the time I started with this blogging business. Neither blogging, nor my quit, could go on for long. Then it was again during early 2005, and went on for 3 months. So here I have my quit again. And trying to be a bit more regular on blog as well. This time, I won't call it a quit, rather say I'm just refraining from tobacco, alcohol and caffeine for a while. Labels: Thoughts |
| [An old one, written sometime around end 2002.] A common hour A winter night The city, Calcutta. They were together Their state, naked Their love, deep Their passion, silent. A convoy passes by Its siren claiming alert. And tangled up in love Neither of them hears it. Labels: Poetry |
So I have finally settled on this template, which I picked up from the blogger workshop website. The original template looked like this: I changed the background and text colors, fonts, did some formatting to decrease the line gaps, brought in the links from my original page, and there it is now, more like the way I wanted it to be.The basic layout would remain the same, I quite like it, though some minor changes might keep on coming in now and then. There's a new set of links now, in the left pane, pointing to the music I'm listening to. Have to do it manually though, doesn't get updated dynamically :-). Thanks to esnips, you can just upload/find your music there and listen to it in real-time streaming mode. Labels: Web |
| Toddler puppies on the road, Lorries full of junk and load, The paper-boy just dropped his pocketful of news. And what's your views? I sing to you baby the happy happy morning blues. Pass the wine, don't be afraid, Breakfast's being served by the barmaid, And she doesn't care who's winning now or gonna lose. It ain't no use. So I sing to you baby the happy happy morning blues. Buzzhead kid, he had a gun, Shot 'em all in the morning sun, Then killed himself, bleedin' from some ol' time bruise. Well, that's the news. And I sing to you baby the happy happy morning blues. Met Rip Van Winkle, he was walking down. Said "Wassup, Rip?". He said, "Lookin' for a clown, Who can pay my taxes without a frown, And take my girl around the town, While I'm busy sleepin' there, way way down." "Finish this song, 'tis takin' too long, It's time now for another song, And anyway it's evening, boy", says my girl, now loose. So wear your shoes, I just sing to you baby the happy happy morning blues. |
| Lately, I didn't really like the look of my blog, and started to search for a new template. Blogger offers a few, which are either too common, or somehow not suitable for holding diamonds and rust. Among them, the one I liked is being used by a friend, and I don't want to be charged with plagiarism. I, however, found some sites that offer templates for download, the top ones being this, this, this, this, this, and this. But these guys, called Wordpress, have 150 templates on their website. The look of my page is changed now, though temporarily. The color combination is good, but I don't like the picture/design on the top left. I don't understand what it is, or is trying to portray. Neither do I like the font. Once I have a template of my choice I'll change it again. Maybe I'll start up writing a template of my own. Thanks to the free tutorials out there. Labels: Web |
| (Or, misapprehensions of a desolate lover) Tonight, I don't mean the world to you. Acquaintance. Common talk. Like common salt on your dining table. But, my love, A night will come Silent of them all, When you will think of me While writing your next poetry. Labels: Poetry |
| There's nothing to keep There's nothing to throw There's nothing to wear Nowhere to go There's nothing happening Or coming soon The sun is gone And there's no moon And there's no darkness Nothing in my head There's nothing at all The music is fuckin' dead Labels: Poetry |
