I have been obsessing about the imperfectness of my body for a while now and then today I saw this. 

Have managed to get through a horrible day by reading crazy poets, and staring at my Beagle's solemn face. I was supposed to start sleeping right today. (Like my dad says- DON'T fight the body clock!) but it's not really working out. 


Forgetfulness is like a song
That, freed from beat and measure, wanders.
Forgetfulness is like a bird whose wings are reconciled,
Outspread and motionless, 
A bird that coasts the wind unwearyingly.
Forgetfulness is rain at night,
Or an old house in a forest, -- or a child.
Forgetfulness is white, -- white as a blasted tree,
And it may stun the sybil into prophecy,
Or bury the Gods.
I can remember much forgetfulness.

Hart Crane 

I have wanted to write about the Radhika Tanwar murder but I cannot get myself to say anything beyond that one word. Humanity is a hard thing to find in this city. I shudder  to the thought of what the world might be like.
In search of music and a break from whatever this is that we are living.