Incoherence cafe

Without adornment, the self would never allow itself to surface. Locked away, floating on some unknown realm, it ceases to respond to my enquiry. But the physical embodiment was dragged across known turfs, lingering on damp lamped domes, awaiting motion on silver screens.


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A panting dog lies in despair. The blue dawn embraces me with a chill, the crimson fumes fall on its skin. It fixes its gaze on me, craving for a sympathy. My gaze flutters on his texture and indifferently puts away. It gets up and barks. Twice. My breath becomes heavy.


***************************************

Red skies.
Each flash is a startling sign that fate has finally found me. Voices are all that I hear.
The clothes go off. In embraces.Pulses rise, Salts trickle, life surges onto the slit.
Truths, all versions, contradict amongst themselves. It doesnt even travel the first metre. Limped, bruised, Truth buries her face in agony.
The Beat has regained blood for thought. The verve is new, shrouding the fallen stinks, aroma of a new realm fuse into the red fluid.
Letters dance topless. Unaroused, yet out of habit, they are let in. Back and forth, the play goes on. The dilated pupils hold broken stories of lust and deceit.

The world is quite round. If you look at it from one end, you can see it coming up from the other end. Its so unwavering in its roundness.
Sitting in a cloudy room, with rain drizzling a few feet from where I sit, I feel soulless. Looking beyond the window bars, I see a few drenched leaves get tickled. I see them but I don't feel them. My mind has become an opportunistic machine that always tries to splash vivid colours across other people's eyes. But I've become colourblind.
And when I drown myself in this sea of misfortune, I laugh sometimes. Mostly, I laugh at myself, and sometimes, for no particular reason.

I being I

Its like I am walking through this mist. I never knew when it came into existence. I don't even realise that it thickens with my every advancing step. But I can feel it. I feel it when I hear a prolonged silence from the other end of the receiver. I feel it when I look onto the monitor and try to distinguish between what is mine and what isn't. I have discovered what one turns to at the fag end of a boring period in life, you start to do nothing and blame the system. Systems are always going to be corrupted, fag. Whenever I don't reach where I intend to I teach myself to look away and point at other things and say " Ah! this is what I've always wanted". I wouldn't even dream of going near my dreams.
Well, the only thing that I can do is make a fuss about it and ask a few people to really tell you, with as much conviction as possible, that you are a great guy and you are going to reach somewhere. Ah! only if I were interested in someone else other than me.
I came across this saying by Fidel Castro "Everyday, when you don't come across any problems - you can be sure that you are travelling in the wrong path". If so, then I would be the guy zeroed in on that specified right path. Its such a bore to 'study'. It wouldn't be so boring to learn something. But its like, its not my responsibility to learn. Its like I am wagging my finger at the world saying ' You are missing a big oppurtunity here, guys, by not turning me into the right path".
What do you want to do with life ? Well, as of now, I would be pretty happy with a high speed net connection. You see, it buffers when I load a porn video. Then I would like to play cricket and football. Then, I would like to see a lot of movies. A lot of movies. Movies that I can lose myself in. I would like to fuck my girl. I would like to cuddle around her in an air-conditioned room with a Bravia running FRIENDS on it. Preferably season 2. I would like to be adored for the beauty in my inhalation and exhalation, the art of it. You see, I should be at the centre of the world, wanking away gleefully, waving to everybody with my feet.
But unfortunately, I am stuck up with a poor net connection, a bad stomach and a virus inhabited laptop. Moreover, I have to go to college! How worse can it get? Guys, if you are out there and have your eyes open, do take pity on me and send me money. Every month. I will keep posting about my ineptitude in doing whatever I want to. Only that I really don't want to.
Yes, you are right now witnessing the last moments in the day of an individual who realises that staying an individual never fetches you money for the rest of your life but never actually gets that onto his head. Good night and I really don't wanna leave this. Please, do ring me if you think that my writing is worth shit and would advice me to shut the fuck up and go to sleep. My number is 9567265863,

In a farce

A few doubts

4 inches from me lies 6 kilometres. Will I teleport ?
A tarred road or the muddy one ?
Eat or dump ?
Face or masks ?
Questions or answers ?

Being and Living

The words are too coagulated. Sometimes they just donot make any sense. Thoughts seem so numb that I fear they can never be expressed. Ignorance so blunt that I try to shield myself from the world. Yet, life goes on. With every advancing day I am convinced that I am the biggest loser around. I make excuses for my own sake. Admission is surrendering.
Most of the times, I get enveloped by my own self, unable to break free from the cycle of guilt and crimes. Rest of the time, I comprehend about myself, where I would reach, what I have done, what I could have done.
Yes, I do break free sometimes. Mostly when I am hanging out in the city with my pals. That is the time that keeps me alive. And our phonecalls, they have got reduced to fighting spaces. But I believe that, that fight keeps my being from falling apart.
Knowledge is needed. I would have been absolutely happy if someone could inject fatloads into me. Being is what I do on weekdays. Living is what I do on weekends.

Waaaanky waaankyyy

Aaawww well, you know what happens at this point of the night ? You wish the whole world would look at you and marvel at the wonder the creator has produced. You see, I often like to swell up under the idea that the whole world with its people live somewhere else and I am shipped off alone, traversing some novel fantasy. But the truth is, infact, that the world has found equally interesting people to have conversations with and I do not fit into the picture. Yes, I am a moron. But that doesn't mean that the world is in scarce of the kind.
And I am deeply sorry, dear. I really want to speak to you. But what happens when channels like Rosebowl put movies like the ones they put on tonight is that you tend to think that this is a once-in-a-lifetime movie, which is why they have termed the series '101 movies to see before you die'. And I am on 'Fuck'-Rehabilitation exercise in which I try to restrain myself from using the word Fuck twice in a sentence.
Time's been pretty good. Sometimes I get the feeling I am high on cocaine. But I have reasoned out that these are times I feel sleepy, probably around this time in the night. Shes quite nice. But quite unreasonable. A tag too sensitive. And asleep.
And this is a very bad forum. Either you have to be half-consious or you have to be completely frank. Or else, you should try being a Shakespeore or Milton. Incase, you couldn't achieve any of this, you should be the new kid on the block - Meenakshy Reddy Madhavan. Be sure to take a Viagra, though.
You see, I get up tomorrow morning. I lay awake. And then, I look at the clock and decide if my bowels are ready. Then I fuss around about a bad stomach, eat fatloads, cum somewhere, play DOTA, call her up and fight, be in a sour mood, go out, savour the city, come back, put on the TV, tell her that I can't abnegate a good movie, be satisfied in using a word that I've been long longing to use, go to sleep, get up, read some stuff, go to college . . . . . . . . . . Fuck her . . . . . . . . Die.
Its boring to be a monk. But its really irritating not to have something that you want. Especially, when you can't even control yourself. But I would like to play DOTA tomorrow, though it doesn't mean much. Its pretty depressing that the things you can do don't please you as much. I have a GoGear which gets lost every other week. The only good thing it does to me is to liften my spirits up on rediscovering it. I intend to use it when I have it. I want to use it when I don't have it.
Aah, I guess I should go off to sleep. As they say, Life's a Bitch! hihi.... Amores Perros

You see, I am feeling quite sleepy. Yet I am unable to sleep. There are lots of images that flash across this windscreen. Mostly, it would consist of scampily clad women. Thats what worries me the most too.
Bring down the stars. I am a little gloomy here. Where is the supernatural ? the sex ? the hartal ? I cant even manage to get across 5 minutes without uttering 'Fuck!' as many times. I mean, who is happy ? I guess, I come here when I have nothing else to do and end up thinking the same thing over and over again. There is this constant fear of being judged. This weight is pretty hard. I can't just seem to escape.
Fuck

These days

Questions and Answers lay orphaned on the floors.
Metabolism wires upto tell that it indeed is something to be taken care of.
The nipple says 'Suck me'.
The retards keep talking in English.
The inability to make an unwarranted entry strikes me quite hard.
Papers, unsorted, lay clipped as a book. They call me out to solve the mysteries inside.
Condoms seem quite lonely lying against dark boxes in closed shops.
The museum grasses are green.
Silicon Valley people suck big time.
Hot air finds ways to get inside rooms, inspite of three established fans.
Kaminey gets released on 14th.
Venge likes me more than Drow

What if I don't want to know ?

What would I do ?

Eat up money and time,

See a lot of tyndall effect

in crowded, dark halls.

Wait for the buffering to end,

Wait for Drow to frost,

Wait to feel the legs,

fill my tummy with stolen prizes,

laugh at others,

woo aunties in malls,

mock the retarded,

see myself in the mirror,

and shout at the one behind.