.

Only I can get my heart broken whilst asleep and wake up weeping from a dream, clutching the last vestiges of a faithless smoke screen.
Only I can, then, squeeze my eyes shut and pray fervently for my mind to drift back to that believable haze so I can convince you not to leave.
Only I, who has helped a hundred, can find myself unable to sever and erase the past tense from my memory.
Only I, can be this 'morbid'.

Kaisay kuch loag bichartay hain...

I feel like a tree tht's thick n strng n tall, frevr close to the sun bt nvr to the ground below where new spring flowr saps wud b birthd in a bed of forevr dewy grass n marshy land. I feel ive missd out on important thngs whyl being tht tree, tht grew up tall in the first place to stop the sun frm takng the dew. I feel exhausted n cheated.

Champions Trophy 09

Aus vs Eng (1st semi)

Commentator: So, did u always say "please" and "thankyou" in ur time?

Ravi Shastri: only in Pakistan where there arn't any neutral umpires

< yo, ravi, man, i hope us Pakistanis fuckd u gud n proper bck tht time jst like v did ths tournament. No wondr u stil remembr wht v were like. Fckng assholes. What a bunch ov sore losers u guys are! >

I loathe you. But I loathe myself even more.

She'd scream bt nbdy wd answr hr. She'd whspr n only the walls wd whspr bk. She'd sit in the path ov the gvng, bt wd rcev nthng in rtrn. Lmpd n xhaustd, she lukd skywrd n nvr laid eyes on hr soul again. Flesh mongr, she ws thn calld.

My city burns
the leaves ashen, fall to heat
grain, dust never settle
and my numb people...
They bear the burden ov a countless deaths
faces a hopeless and grey

They walk a zombie walk
they talk in hushd tones; a grotesque talk
children dont run whn my city burns
they play the hangman game
a murderous axe hangs above
my city burns a slow death

My people lie in a drug haze
waters dont give us shining pearls
covered in red, they smell of fear, injustice
the sun eclipsed forevr, moon lends no helpng hand

My city burns and my people
they close the doors firmly
and celebrate the martydom
of the unborn and the living

My city burns...
My city burns.