Unfinished business.

A long time has passed.

I cleaned out my closet for the one last time today. Trashed it all. Old

workshop journals, unfinished paintings and pain medications. Trashed it all.

Two and a half foot long pile of garbage accumalated over the last three

years. Old tshirts, old notebooks, old blue jeans and a coconut. Trash.

Then I lay it all on the floor and spread it and sifted through it all looking

for those fragile trinkets with memories attached to them. Designed to fade over time.

Like the old blue jeans.

My closet door is filled with chemistry II formulae I wrote on it in my first year.

I don't even remember when I etched out the lyrics to Breathe on the table with a

compass. Probably during the times I used to carry a compass. A long time has passed.

I found an old notebook in which I had written about the guitar I wanted to own one day.

The make and the pickups and what her name would be. Everything. I looked around at Moonbeam. Exactly as I wrote she would be. Complete with the name.

On the very next page I'd written about the first exact moment when I knew for sure

that I had fallen for someone. More than I had ever.

Well, atleast I got my guitar.

I have unfinished business with this place. I will leave things undone. Unsaid.

I'll sleep on the cold comforting floor tonight. I'll leave a guitar string behind.

I'll trust the memories. They're designed to fade over time.

"Why must we live?"

"We must live."

A mouse's tail.

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a tiny little mouse. He lived in a tiny little mouse hole in a tiny little patch of grass alongside a tiny little river.

But the tiny little mouse was sad.

The tiny little mouse was sad because he was poor and hungry and he had no friends. You see, the riverside is dominated by the rat community. And though we generally don't care enough to spot the difference, the mean old rats are very touchy about the company they keep.

So the mean old rats never made friends with our tiny little mouse. And that's why, the tiny little mouse was sad.

Oh. Yes. And he was madly in love one of the mean old rats. Its funny how pretty rats can be so mean sometimes, but she never even gave our mouse a second look, and that broke the tiny little heart of our tiny little mouse.

The tiny little mouse thought and he thought. He racked his tiny little brain. There had to be a solution to his problems. But nothing!

Until one day, suddenly, out of the blue...

A huge ginger tomcat with huge sharp claws gulped our tiny little mouse away!

And then they all lived happily ever after.

Moral: Mice are tastier than rats.

My pain is mine to give.
And I give it to you.

Because I trust you with it.

Fish curry and rice.

There is no good fish or bad fish.

There is just

fish.

Unless you want to eat it.

Or it wants to eat you.