A characteristic of Indian writers is to see structures in the shape of the world, and find meaning where others see chance.
Rushdie and Roy have left this imprint in me - an eye for reccurency, a deep faith in cycles. But all hints to the meaning stay few and far apart.
Vanilla scent. Blue paper goose. Radar alert. And now those markings on the wall.
Who are we kidding?
Meme la musique s'écoute en boucle.
Circles - circles - I think I really like circles...
4.10.08
Roads
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A blue neon and a blue conclusion.... all this seems... twisted Ô.ö... (allusions vaseuses pour allusions vaseuses...)
Circle = perfection according to Aristotle. Let's save a bit of philosophy in this bloody senseless world.
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