Thursday, July 24, 2014
Friday, April 18, 2014
Cease, cows, life is short!
What a way to end a book!
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Its a far heavier title to bear than the mere seven letter constitution suggests. There are dimensions within dimensions within dimensions that no one can foresee and no one can issue warnings about. There are hidden potholes that are so devious that in order to be discovered you must fall in them. But once you do fall, and frankly, there is no way will not, it will hurt far more than you would have dared imagine.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
It was the autumn of my discontent. A time when the ghost of Midas, condemned to forever roam the living world, had come to roost in me. The eternity of aimlessness has mutated him, I can assure you, and instead of gold, which despite the moral of the story would actually have been rather nice, everything I touched during those beknighted months would turn instead to shit. And not regular shit either, massive Mastadonion shit. Shit so voluminous and so smelly that even though it was only allegorical it still managed to drive all the sources of happiness right on out of my life. They were dark days, desperate days. Days so heavy with the burden of despondence that waking up was more unpleasant than dreams of having died.
I have never fully recovered, to be honest. Life is probably better than it has ever been, in strictly socially viable terms, at least, but the sense of invulnerability is never coming back. This is a good thing, I’m sure I’ll be told, and in all earnestness too, I know we are basically helpless shapes just floating aimlessly within our own illusions of control, but it’s not. Not really. Not even for a minute. Invincibility is the greatest of all highs, you see. It’s the best of feelings. It’s top of the charts and will never ever be displaced. When you feel invincible you look at the world like it’s a puzzle you can solve, as opposed to one that you can’t even begin to understand. You know shit, when the feeling of invincibility is upon you, you believe shit. And belief, my god, is the strongest of all temptations. Belief, ultimately, is the root cause of all good and evil in the world, and the feeling of invincibility, both good and evil, much like the perfect woman, is ultimately a product of belief. But whatever it is, it was quite clearly upon me just when the mutated ghost of Midas the cursed king chose to hole up where my soul used to live.
Arguably, it was gods way, or the world’s way, or fate’s way of setting me straight and/or extracting the pomposity out of me. But one would have to believe in all those fancy things to subscribe to such an easy interpretation. I don’t know why it happened or to what end… I just know that it did come to pass and almost a decade later I’m still reeling from the assault.
There were lessons learnt… for better or worse… lessons that define whatthefuck I now am. I have no way of knowing whether I drew the right conclusions or not, because the lessons don’t really ever stop coming as long as you live, but one of the lessons itself is to make a fucking decision and then fucking stick to it because whether it works or not is not really up to you anyway and indecision is one of the worst weaknesses a person can be afflicted with. Also learnt that love mustMUSTmust always be embraced with your eyes open wider than your heart. And also that you can’t really help but be blinded by love. How the two can go hand in hand is a mystery to me, but believe me when I tell you, they can. And although even then love is 70 parts pain to 30 parts pleasure, once its chosen rather than assumed, it’s a lot more meaningful.
But most important, and perhaps also the most powerful of all the worms of wisdom Midas planted in me before he finally, mercifully left, is that we are not invulnerable, we just are not. Maybe we aren’t meant to be maybe we are incapable of it, but the bottom line is that the shit will hit the fan and it will catch us not only without an umbrella but with our pants down in a pool of quicksand which we will be unable to get out of ourselves and so we mustMustmust sink in, be submerged, drown and die and be absorbed in order to survive and get back up on our feet again. But none of this, none of the lessons/worms of wisdom can ever actually help because once the stupor of invincibility has been experienced, the rest of our lives our spent hung over from it. You will never ever stop missing it, or craving it, and you will never ever be able to experience it again because as soon as you do, the worms of wisdom will make you weary and clip your wings before they can even fully sprout and you will live the rest of your days in a state of Psuedo-existence, where you can never have what you want and know it too.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
the return of the whothefuck.
How the hell can one be different without coming of a pretentious retard? And once you've mastered the walima invite how the hell do you deal with the mehndi one? Why is there a fucking mehndi taking place in the first place? why can't it be just one fucking event that everyone dresses up for and has a ball at and then goes home after instead of bunking at my fucking house so that i don't even have a room available to sleep in and must stay at a fucking hotel? (stomps, kicks, bangs, dies)
The marriage part, i realize, for all the horror stories one hears, is much worthier of being looked forward to than the wedding part. In fact, if it wasn't for all the bullshit that one must go through in order to BE married, marriages probably would be far happier experiences then they are. But you are forced to go into it measuring each others inputs into the whole wedding (i'm winning by many a mile, btw, my lazy ass bride, just sayin) and how well who's friend came through and whose aunt is toooooooooo fucking paindoo to be invited. Also, did you know, if you want 300 guests at the event you don't give away 300 cards, you get 600 printed! 600 ppl are to be invited in order to yield a paltry 300??? how does that even equate? Is this a fucking wedding or a deep sea fishing expedition in the dead fucking sea? I am so fucking ready to just fucking elope with who fucking ever is fucking willing to fucking make a go of it than go through all this crazy shit. The worst fucking part is that my dearly beloved isn't into all this shit either, she just wants the diamond... but we both mustmustmust go through this whole shebang because well when your parents accept the indignity of having borne love-marriage-ing progeny, the progeny mustmustmust accept the indignity of being treated like fucking centerpieces on a fucking buffet table.
Fuck! I hope i make it through without losing all my hair and/or turning into one of those middle shelf cynical 'husbands' who take inordinate amounts of pleasure in the misery of others just because it makes them feel vindicated.
In other news, I am Back and oh boy oh boy oh boy, do i have stories to tell...
Friday, April 1, 2011
Its all in my head, its all in my head its all in my head its all in my head its all in my head its all in my head.
No one else will ever see or know or do what is expected of you to spare you the horror of failing and feeling like you could ever belong to anyone else.
Potentially, life is fucking beautiful. And god is mercy incarnate. The shit has turned to rose water right before hitting the fan and there's a downpour of fragrant benediction which you don't need an umbrella for. Divided and united and divided in an instant of intense ecstasy with someone i could become but its no good to me Goddamn it, its no fucking good to me because when you aimed your love soaked spear you were aiming at who i used to be...
Saturday, March 19, 2011
here we go again
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Love is easy to qualify and/or quantify when it smacks you like a sledge hammer to the nuts or a poisoned arrow in the ass. It bamboozles you, obviously, sending your being into shock, incapacitating your fight or flee instincts, rendering you wholly helpless and at the mercy of the after shocks of the unforeseen assault.
Falling in love by degrees, by choosing neither to fight nor flee but submit instead , however, is a completely different kind of disease. Its no less potent, mind you, but its infinitely better than accidental love.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
14 years old: my email account.
20 years old: my car.
I'm not one for letting go. Learn to deal.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
i can't tell you what it really is, only what it feels like.
Losing in love is hard on the ego, falling in love is hard on the knees. Being in love is hard on the heart, don't fall in love please.
A man's gots to do what a man gots to do and this man gots to survive.
But by the time i'm done making my peace, will you be alive? Will you be alive?
This is not for you. This is for me. And your failure to understand is also perfectly planned.
She fucking hates me and I love it so you can judge me but you'll never know what i've seen and done and gone through cuz you always think its about you. Don't even know who you are anymore you only think you do. I could be talking to myself it all the fucking same.
"Winston, If i were your wife, i would lace your tea with cyanide."
"If i were your husband, Nancy, i would drink it."
And they lived happily ever after. Unloved, unscarred and regretlessly.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Dil to chaha per shikast-e-dil nay mohlat he na dee
You don't deserve to be loved, she said.
But seeing the frenzy in her eyes, he strangled his heart. And for the rest of his life his heart never loved him again. This granted him the gift of verbal poignancy of divine caliber and cynical insight as sharp as a diamond blade but when years and years later the child asked her what his eyes were always apologizing for he understood that he had failed. As much today as years and years earlier and every day, every moment between now and then he had consistently, continuously failed and so despite his judicious reasoning and cynical insight as sharp as a diamond blade, he had ended up proving her right.
And now as he sits duly bundled up in two blankets and a fur cap that covers his ears entirely, slowly sucking on the stem of his pipe out of the habit of sucking more so than the habit of smoking he has run out of things to say or verbal poignancy of divine caliber to offer because it was only when the news of her death reached him two years after she had died that it became clear to him that love does not exist. He then had an answer for the child who was no longer a child but a young woman capable of believing in love herself and thus now blinded to the stark truths she could so deftly find amidst the flawless lies that it caused a man much oldersmarterwiser than her to understand the true nature of his crime.
And so he summoned her through the necessary agents of communication between them and despite the rancor she came for she had learnt one lesson well that regret ought be avoided whenever possible.
The answer is, he spoke for the first time since the nicotine had claimed his throat, for breaking my heart.
She remembered the question even after the years and years and every moment within those years that she had struggled to understand the nature of her crime which had warranted such a hefty punishment that she believed she would never ever stop paying for it. But his answer instantly released her from her guilt. Like the soul departing from a corpse, the guilt accumulated over years and years of wondering why travelled up and out of her and her heart welled up with as much emotion as her father's had back when he'd been told that he doesn't deserve to be loved and her father noticed the violence erupt on her face in flashes of crimson across her pale cheeks and a splash of red across the white in her eyes as he learned how it felt to have your own eyes well up with frenzy.
She either failed or chose not to heed the her father's silent request and without letting the chance to go by unheralded she permitted the tears to fall and the words to flow and I didn't think you had one, she said, i don't think you do.