December 2nd, 2005 @ 9:40AM
A typical jam session for strum: We both sit down, pull out the guitars, and proceed to carry on a conversation about wether the orca (killer whale) is a whale or a dolphin; We're both stubborn bastards, so we never admit that the orca, of-course, falls under the species of freedomus willus (ooh scienceyy). Then we decide to write a song about elephants.. ohhhh the pain;the suffering;the shenanigans and general tomfoolery. We take turns at making up lyrics and singing; we take turns playing guitar bits. (not to mention telling each other we're stupid, crude and obtuse) The session soon comes to an end when we decide that playing any further might lead to something constructive. (THATS CRAZY TALK). Thats how it goes...
- Asif
October 28th, 2005 @ 4:47PM
Stories of the path less travelled.
All is quiet save for the terrific whoosh of air passing by the train as it speeds to its destination. The carriage is all but full, and each passenger sits calmly in their seats, lost in their own thoughts.
A young couple sits hand in hand, looking out the darkened window of the train.
She balls her fingers into a fist, pushes it in front of her co-passenger, thumb facing down. She mutters a few words, inaudible from here, but ends on a hopeful note. The young man turns his head slowly, a smile blossoming on his lips, and taps the bridge of his glasses up. He looks down at the hopeful fist and lets loose a few words. Gradually, growing more confident, the faint trickle grows to a waterfall of a speech; full bore. Still inaudible, but a whisper, he carries on. In what seems like a lull in the dialogue the young lady pulls the fist back her way to add something. (another question?) No; halfway through her interruption. Her (friend, partner, husband?) continues his speech. This time she lets him finish before punctuating the silence with a conjecture; here eyes wide with amusement. The young man reaches across, places his hands gently over her fist and tucks it neatly into her lap. They seem to stand still in the moment, cherishing it, in all its ephemeral sentiment. Slowly a smile blossoms on both their faces. A minute ((or two), or five?) passes. She looks away, serenely, continuing to smile. She looks down at her hand, and fidgets with the single gold band adorning her ring finger. After what seems like an hour she looks up and her gaze turns this way. I offer a knowing smile and she offers an embarrassed yet still dazzling smile. Not wanting to ruin this awkward moment, I turn to fiddle with my bag, and look out the darkened window of the train once again.
Jolly good!! By Asif
October 10th, 2005 @ 12:19PM
"Shows How Much You Do At Work" -Sif
(came up with this when i was at work... comments/suggestions welcome)
Not like it matters - what I say
Not like it matters - what I mean
Not like it matters - what they say
All they are is just - plain ol' mean
No matter where I go
No matter where I've been
People shed tears
People bleed
Even when I try to stop this gush
some people they do not heal...
'Cuz where people go
What people perceive
Its not like what they see is what they believe.
