Perfect Murder Wednesday, Jun 30 2010 

I was in the showers yesterday night when the thought just got put into my head. It is futile and redundant to get involve in persistent questioning of moral values now. There’s a slight difference with my moral compass, difference i say. Not a functionality issue. Point is, in the dimensions of my head, i start to wonder what’s a perfect murder. I believe in perfection in certain things in life, only if it involves elaborated calculations, predictions and character analysis. Of course, they have to be executed timely. As well.

I am not able to spill my perfect plot for murder right here – too many eyes. But the best way to stage a murder is with your victim. Confused just yet? Let your victim see no light in life, find fear in living and seek solace in death. Make your want their need. Play mind games with the inadequate. Kid-play for the malnourished. Then, offer a multitude of methods for your prey. Be the utmost considerate and thoughtful.

Lure, tempt then enjoy the gore.

Hunger Friday, Jun 18 2010 

The time apart made us develop nothing sort of a beastly hunger for each other. It wasn’t made clear aloud, but deep inside we know as vividly as each other where the line sets in between a need and a want.

White room Friday, Jun 18 2010 

We smile in politeness, in appreciation of the questioning party’s concern and care. It wasn’t an affirmative smile, more like a smile keen on distraction. The projectile path of our multiple behaviours might be incomprehensible and insane, but no, it follows quite an adorable trend. It reflects a little more than just survival instincts, malfunctioned moral compasses, individualism, magnified worldly desires and unacceptable hierarchy shifts. What’s interesting, is the change per se.

“Everything is the way it is because everything was the way it was”

We all want a little bacon. Wednesday, Jun 16 2010 

The first rays of the faithful day are unsurprisingly overwhelmed by the apparent morning gloom. She has taken the liberty to put on her favorite sweater and slap on a layer or two of refined make-up. She checks on her mobile, then his mobile. It is a gross habit at that, and she knows he is the best keeper of the darkest secrets. It wouldn’t gain her a penny or half, it wouldn’t make her a notch happier or half.

But a woman got to do what she ought to do.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.