Black and White, Inverted

Thiridon surged on ahead to the cliff edge and stood there with his arms spread wide open. "We can go back now, brother!" he turned back and shouted at me joyfully. I was similarly elated, but more mindful of the spears and stones following us. I stood there on the cliff top and looked out over the blue sea below. A spear whizzed by me. I turned back and smiled at the White Barbarians chasing us. Their faces were pink with exertion, and their eyes red with malevolence.

I turned back to the sea and took my tunic off. My wings, proud and black with steel grey glints, sprang forth and oh, what ecstasy it would be to be able to use them again. No more would my feet cut and bleed over sharp stones.

More spears and sticks passed by and fell down, down into the sea. Thiridon and I flexed our wings, and then sprang into the air. Oh, the joy of being in the air again! We flew for the clouds, and the White Barbarians gasped in amazement. Our black bodies glinted in the morning sunshine, and I enjoyed the contrast we made against the white fluffy clouds. All White need not be evil, after all.

Lurvin' the new template, yeah!

Cuboids

Here I am, sitting inside a cuboid. The cuboid has yellow walls with brown openings here and there. A part of it is open to the outside. The yellow cuboid, along with many other cuboids - larger, smaller, red, white, yellow - is part of another larger cuboid. This larger cuboid sticks vertically out of the ground. There are other such cuboids near it, too, that stick out of the ground. Sometimes, they're close together, and share walls. Sometimes, they stand on their own, surrounded by a rectangle each.

Each of these large cuboids has people in it. My own cuboid has at present - me, my mother, and some members of my landlord's family. My neighbouring cuboid has an old couple in it. I wonder what the silver-haired old man is doing right now. He can't know that, across a wall and a few metres above him, a young girl is thinking of him. His wife is probably keeping him company inside his little cuboid. On the other side of me is the set of cuboids with the young couple that's always arguing. They argue for hours, and then sometimes, he hits her, and then there's silence. People in all the nearby cuboids can hear them as they go on and on and on.

This city is filled with cuboids of all shapes and sizes. They stick out of the ground like plants at a monstrous farm - plants filled with writhing people.

We humans have made a lifestyle out of living in cuboids. We never stop to think of the life we had before cuboids came along. When the surroundings were open and natural, when there were no straight lines, and all was the curvy beauty of Nature. We've forgotten what that felt like. Cuboids form our Nature now.

Powered by ScribeFire.

Letter

Dear Person From Ireland,

I don't know who you are. But you do know who I am. You read my blog - my real blog, of course, not this one. And you discovered me on Orkut. Not a very tough thing to do, apparently. And that's how you discovered this blog. And now I know that my Orkut id is giving me away. How did you discover me, by the way? Did you search for me on Orkut? Or did you know me before you read my blog?



We're the only people on this blog, you and I. You're my only visitor. We could make this our place to hangout. Our secret place. What say? No, don't say anything. I don't want to know. This is sleepiness talking - sleepiness plus the discovery that I'd been discovered. Oh well. See you around.



J/D.

Powered by ScribeFire.