Dear Friend of my Heart, In my dream last night an angry red-headed man started becoming a story. He turned… Read more Dreams, Orchids and Fruits

Dear Friend of my Heart, In my dream last night an angry red-headed man started becoming a story. He turned… Read more Dreams, Orchids and Fruits
Dear Friend of my Heart, We were so deeply immersed in a callous darkness, drawing feeble lines of colors we… Read more Loss
repetition. The same movement over and over, every time a little off. Every time the same movement? A little off?… Read more Leafy Labyrinth
In thought and in death, aspirations drop and sink. Downwards. Oh the weight of azure sky that rests on my… Read more Down
how did I get here? which way is upwards? you can tell from the rush of air if you feel… Read more Flying or Falling
I have been disciplining my fingers for the longest time to suit your methods. My fingers have been following the… Read more Ecstatic
…as it so happens, tonight has been one such occasion when I (more often than now and then) find myself… Read more A Polite Awakening
Charming, you present me your presence withholding the lines, nary a complete you a ghost to my touch, a shadow,… Read more fever; momentariness
It is when one goes looking for some forgotten book, stacked in some forgotten corner, that one switches on the… Read more The Forgotten Corner
What had been the most eager subject of our wonderment was shadows, and shadows of all kinds… we would see… Read more What Wasn’t in the Shadows
A theatre (mostly review) blog with swag
A blog dedicated to flora, fauna and all the wonderful things in nature.
Weirdo Wasteland is an Australian-based music blog that examines musical endeavour from the cultural fringe. The site regularly features reviews and interviews from the underground scenes from Australia and New Zealand. Weirdo Wasteland acknowledges the original custodians of the land upon which it operates. Sovereignty has never been ceded. To get in touch, contact: weirdowasteland (at) gmail.com
Bird Silent
Ceaselessly Sinking In Aesthetic Art & Mediocre Metaphors
The scars of my soul bleed through words in the form of poetry.
Within the well of silence , are thoughts that awaken the soul.....
_aditi_jamwal