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Untitled

damp
desolate
corners
in decrepit
rundown
houses
make me
think of
love…

spurned

Comments

ghetufool said…
lovely post man. short and precise narration of a psycho.
12:08 PM
Nana said…
AM DISSAPOINTED. U'stand what watching movies without sleep and with i_ _a_s can do.
12:31 PM
Rimi said…
er, i didn't exactly have this in mind, but well, to quote a certain comment on MY blog, "vey angsty" ;)
8:53 PM
thorswheels said…
Ghetuful: Critical appreciation!

Nana: That too Hindi ones, like Chocolate.

Rimi: Angsty? Not really.
9:49 AM
vadahole said…
i think of rain and lush greenery when i think of love...and i believe that's more joyfull, but love is not always that joyful and you are right to attach a tinge of meloncholy to it...
10:00 AM
Tridib said…
Very minimalist. Very, dare I say, existentialist!
2:19 PM
Chaila Bihari said…
Proximity in damp desolate may breed love. Distance, even in sunlit green valleys, may often melt it down. Ye nazdikiyan, ye dooriyan...
9:46 AM
Chaila Bihari said…
Proximity in damp desolate may breed love. Distance, even in sunlit green valleys, may often melt it down. Ye nazdikiyan, ye dooriyan...
9:46 AM
Roshomon said…
I don't mind desolate corners...but the damp part is slightly depressing.
3:48 AM
Rimi said…
was kidding. kidding.
10:36 AM
Anonymous said…
Desolate corners eh? For more on such topics...check my blog.
4:21 PM
thorswheels said…
Vadahole: Great thought.

Tridib: Does the comparison put in line with those painters of yore?

Chaila: You are correct; but that a second line of thinking.
11:30 AM
thorswheels said…
Roshomon: That's why they remind me of spurned love!

Rimi: Point taken.

Ph: I am a regular at phantasmagoria!
11:32 AM
Anonymous said…
"Decrepit", "damp", "corner"... I was almost waiting for Eliot's yellow fog to creep into the next line.

It was a good one, but I empathise with Rimi's disappointment. Hungry for your prose, Fool. Take me there
12:37 AM
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