A Liar's Guide to the Dreams..

In the dead of the night, the dreams come in one by one. They cling to you with soft acceptance, and they know it all..

These are the dreams which leave a note of remembrance. They cling to our tongues like a bittersweet delight.

They feel familiar, though their flavour melts in the mouth... and taste distinctly unusual.

May 27, 2010

Being Private About It

Evidently, I was wrong when I assumed men liked privacy. It seems, when you, the soul of sobriety that you are, do not touch their fingers in public, make them bristle with anger and shake with rage. They claim revenge, and call you names, and think that the love is gone. One even went so far as to say ---

"I think I am pregnant."

Me: But I thought we used all forms of protections, especially the verbal ones!

Him: I know, but it seems that I am.

I was mortified. "Am I the father?", I asked him.

Him: I'm not sure yet.

Me: What? You've been sleeping around!! Kultaaa!!!

And this is the reason why men can be tedious, boring, annoying, but still adorable.

May 10, 2010


I am so in love with this song. I can nearly feel the insane rhythms to my bones. It is almost a relief to note that there are others who love love love this song too. This one's dedicated to my darling peep.

Check out the youtube link

Here's the lyrics too.

ABC's - Knaan feat Chubb Rock

Bundle up my whole style is so cold
I glow like old guys who go bald
My flow got no front in the vocal
Your flow got no button its so old

I don't mean to sound like a showboat
But it's true my persona's no joke
I stepped into some kinda portal
I'm legend and sometimes I'm noble

I'm from the most risky zone - oh
No place is more shifty global
More pistols, Russian revolvers
We shootin' all that is normal

But it ain't just because we want to
We ain't got nowhere we can run to
Somebody please press the undo
They only teach us the things that guns do

They don't teach us the ABCs
We play on the hard concrete
All we got is life on the streets
All we got is life on the streets

(Chubb Rock)
Rock, you know my era
B-boy seasoning, salt -n- pepa
Grown and sexy, come with the extra
Crushed up linen, fly like sess-a
This type brew I gave it birth
Now it's time again to give it a verse
Jamaican born, not a fan of the ganja
______ Brooklyn to Somalia
And it goes in the background
Playa, that is my sound
The green doesn't symbolize I made it on the top
Pioneer legend, and they call me Mr. Rock
No B word or N word, I don't need those words (no)
Respect for hers
The game dried up, so we come with the grease
Leadin' ya right and treatin' ya right, so peace


Superman is known by the locals
As this dude who's so fly it's global
Attitude that came outta struggle
Destitute but I make it hopeful

You real, but my real is tenfold
My real'll make yours a rental
Gangsta if at ease, essential
Fight with guns or utensils

So bold nothin's confidential
Breakfast was not continental
And lunch could not compliment all
We still become competent souls

These streets ain't paved with no gold
Matter fact someone stole the light bulb
Nobody fat enough for lypo
They don't teach us to read and write, so...