Essays on dystopic societies with too many screenwriters one of which who never read the book, one who is an actor, three of which whose scripts never got included and whythefuck shouldicare and whythefuck amiwriting about this?

Just the epic confusion with their screenwriting is dystopic enough, forget the movie itself.

The movie in question is Children of Men.

Rant. paper in 12 hours. fuckinghell. mar gayee.
*shoots self in head*

I feel like I love you but when I see your face you are someone I do not know.
and I peer at you for hours hoping I will find something in you that I find in me that I can relate to.

Right in the wrongest kind of way.

Love. funny word.

reminds me of seahorses.
slippery, elusive, bobbing up and down and never stabilizing in place.


I don't want to leave.
i DONT I dont i donotwanttoleavepleasemakeitstop.

The casual comfort with which I can sprawl in Hinny's lap while Lammy makes me pizza and we talk of sexual innuendos of the gruesomest kind.

the circle to my stick.

I keep telling myself that this will be a new begginning, but that sounds too familiar.
It's like a chant I play in my head like that eeeeeee sound you suddenly hear inside you that doesn't want to go away I tell myself I'll repent and reinvent.

I told myself that when I moved to Vancouver.
and to Tripoli.
and to U.S
and to Karachi.

I'm a small little dot fixated in space, of incandescent vermillion shades.


'And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit-out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?'

-Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock, by T.S Eliot.

...and that dear friends, is why I do not write very often.



You, drug, are everything I wanted to be.
Everything that the essence of me wantedto become, but was too scared to do.
You rid me of my shackles and tell me...


' I love your piercing eyes.'
'Why?'
'The white of your eyes is so...white.'

'and I love your bubble nose.'
'and I love..and I love..and I.''


I.
You are everything I am not,
everything I never wanted to be with,
everything I never can and never will be.
and Yet.

You are the fish that I would

Throw back

But for some reason

As opposites,

We attract.

-Why I love you, Shanelle Gabrielle.

And when you
tell me you would
Do or die.

I dontknowwhattodo.


melodramatic exclamations of love can be
deceivingly touching and unrealistic.

which does not make it insincere.

and yet.

i wonder if this.is.it
-confuzzled-

but i love him and i love him and i
question mark.


I spin in a endless haze.
School, papers, lawyers, forms, transcripts.


A spectator watching my own life on a remote t.v screen I am
too far to even try and come close and
reach out and touch myself to
feel me and pinch me and stare me in the eye and see
if i am real and i
am me.


coffee. 5 hours of sleep in 2 days courtesy you drug.
i need to get back to this goddamn paper on scriptwriting scandals and globalization and why the hell britian keeps immigrants in immigrant removel centres like nazi concentration camps.

no I didnt make the last part up. its true its happening and its not getting publicized
see here..


let's think of happier, simpler things.
like love.
Not.

watch this.



all for now till i get my fried brains to work again.
-eedumdidums