returned

Not to write, but just to stay.

deleted

Dear boys and girls

Thank you for stopping by. If you're one of the kind hundreds (yes! hundreds!) who've been here in the past and liked what you read, and told me so, then I must also thank you for keeping me going for as long as I managed...

Circumstances have made it impossible for me to continue writing, unfortunately - and I didn't think I could bear to have so much of myself out in blog-land mocking my inability to write two coherent sentences. Thus it was that I scrolled down on the settings page today and clicked the little blue button that said "Delete This Blog".
(Permanently delete this blog and all entries?)
I'm afraid the blog is gone: all the archives, all the comments; everything. It's a decision that I'm currently glad I took - drastic times, drastic measures. I have no idea if I'll regret it later.
Hopefully not.

If you ever want to talk, or tell me you'll miss my blog (yay!) or that I'm an idiot and should never have deleted it (double yay!!) then please do email me at teetangled@gmail.com.

Thanks and goodbye.

because it turned out oh-so-prettily

You have stolen my heart
Love like suicide
Like the sunshine
Let's make it out, baby
I could possibly be fading
and I keep thinking tomorrow is coming today
I want you to come along for the ride
crawl like ivy up my spine
Tell me that you'll open your eyes
I walk in the air between the rain through myself and back again
trading stories with the leaves
I still find pieces of your presence here
and oh lord, I’m not ready for this sort of thing
One more notch I scratch, to keep me thinking of you
the crumbling difference between wrong and right
So high, the sky I scrape
I'm still here but you don't trust at all
Can't you see my walls are crumbling?
These feelings won't go away
Words will go from poetry to prose
What is love, but whatever my heart needs around?
And it's all right where it belongs
Suppose I said you're my saving grace?
Yes, be what you'll be
You're the other side of the world to me
Without you here there is less to say
because if you don't want to talk about it then it isn't love
and it's not a love it's not a love it's not a love song.
That's not the only lie I told you - and you'll never notice
So I am endlessly waiting
I'm blind and waiting for you
I only make jokes to distract myself
From the truth, from the truth
There you are standing right in front of me
Yes and No are the answers written in my true love's eyes
and every word is nonsense but i understand and
I can tell you're in denial; get over it.

Too many.

two years

Happy birthday.

it's my birthday.

yes, it is. :)

out of town

back next monday

brief interlude of bewilderment

SO the submission's on Saturday, and I'm working very very hard to finish things on time.
All this post is for, is to wonder about the wonder that is the internet.
"I DNT HATE MOZILLA BUT USE IE OR ELSE"

All hail people who post so that others can find solutions.
I love help forums. I love the internet. I love Google. All hail the internet. All hail Google.

And I was only online to send some files to a person.


Sigh. :(
SATURDAY!
I have the heartburns.

update

The cast, dears, is off.

The ordeal involved hobbling, a saw on fibreglass, incompetence, and pain.
But there was nothing a band-aid couldn't fix; and the cast is off, yay.

Now I have to be even more careful, ugh.
:(

Please hope someone is watching out for me.

anniversary

Happy birthday to you, love.

What more can I say, really? Perhaps a bio. :)
March 26, 2006. A young, less confident, less articulate, less crazy T began, after inspiration derived from a boy, a blog. Her first blog. Without an idea of what blogging was, without an idea of the things she wanted to say, or didn't want to say. With a url that had her name in it, and a first post that was all pretension, she tiptoed, tentative, into revealing her soul.
Woke up at four and five, stayed up till one and two; wrote in spite of pains and aches and mother's nagging if only just to put down that one thought that refuses to sit silent in the head.
Perhaps that's why I write, to know what I am and who I am. And how well I can say it.

One cannot have anniversaries without thank yous. And so.
To San. The first one. In so many many ways, and not all nice ones. But I couldn't have done anything without you, babe.
To Mojo. First Fan. Adoptive parent. All-round fabulous person.
To PJ. Inspiration. Distraction.
To Bee. No words here.
To Andy. For pleasant conversations.
To the One. For the rhymes.
To Cat. 1066. And the children's section.
To Kishi. For pie. With cheese.
Oh, there are more. Monkie and AC and the boys of PSBB, and all the others I read and envy. I don't want to begin naming them, because I fear I won't know when to stop.
Let's just say, if you stop by here at all, there's a hug in it for you.

Thank you, everyone.
It's been a wonderful year.

nostalgia

And also vanity, but hey. I like my adventure-posts. They're better written than my grand literary pieces, definitely.
There's a new vanity post itching at the back of my head, but in the mean time I'm going to be re-reading the old ones. I wish you would, too. Yes, random visitors, I mean you.

hampi
coorg
people
blank noise 1 2 3
social calls
comic interludes
bus tales
more tales
night at café
night at café again
dumb people
the late ms. me
all fools

So hard to pick them out. :)
Stop by and comment while I do other fest things.
:D

a month of me

Yes, most of my ideas are selfish and vain.
I like this one, though.

A month of me; all i'd said.
Please stop by?

birthday

read me.

where it says "before".
and here, here, here.
i'll be back eventually.
i need some fixing in the mean time.