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 ?
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
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
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
Thursday, August 06, 2009
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,
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.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Incomplete
I sit atop a white page. Legs against my shoulder, looking over at the other empty pages, enjoying the beauty of their blankness. Their future has promise, infinite probabilities.They might create wonder among mankind, stir revolutions, evoke pain, insight thoughts and criticisms. But this empty page doesn't hold that privilege. It is to be inked in, losing its virginity forever. All the dreams that I had about this page disappears the moment I appear before it. Yet I feel obliged somehow to keep my promise.
A while has passed since I have started sitting and looking at things. I have been seeing people gleefully passing me by, telling me sweet nothings. I have laughed along.
In my dreams, the pages are full of colour, all of them splashed into one single, enlarged whiteness. I feel the warmth of those hues against my body all the time. But yet when I come back onto earth, I find it singularly barren. I splash a few around but they never seem to fill it up.
A while has passed since I have started sitting and looking at things. I have been seeing people gleefully passing me by, telling me sweet nothings. I have laughed along.
In my dreams, the pages are full of colour, all of them splashed into one single, enlarged whiteness. I feel the warmth of those hues against my body all the time. But yet when I come back onto earth, I find it singularly barren. I splash a few around but they never seem to fill it up.
In the distance the mirage stands out like horses and cattle.
Whilst a few paces of dirty writing will have to stick out now
Between the snatched lines of previous snatches
Constipated in thoughts, words, emotions and metabolism
Relying on the ever-present wealth of man's creativity
to relay my self-effacing superiority
The snatch has dissolved
And I run to the edge of the room
in hope of seeing me sitting here
So that the words may indeed evolve
Whilst a few paces of dirty writing will have to stick out now
Between the snatched lines of previous snatches
Constipated in thoughts, words, emotions and metabolism
Relying on the ever-present wealth of man's creativity
to relay my self-effacing superiority
The snatch has dissolved
And I run to the edge of the room
in hope of seeing me sitting here
So that the words may indeed evolve
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