Ok then. Alcohol and me need to have a healthier relationship. These hangovers are giving me hangovers!
Friends’ over from London and we’ve been getting the red paint and going to town with it. So thats the justification at least for the hangovers and also that the long weekend in New York city had to be paid its due respects.
Started off with midtown, after work. Midtown Mayhem the concept is called. 3 pints and much talk. Then to the Village. Place called...shit I forget. Not important really, every bar’s the same in the village. Oh how I hate the Village. No soul there really and way too touristy, if you ask me. But the best Kathi Rolls in town...yummy. Especially at 2 am. I know, the time just flew. Then off to home near the upper west side. Bar hoping. 3 bars. Dead poet, westside brewing company and the gin mill. Hangover, which gave birth to little hangovers. Lots of water at kitchen tap.
And the long distance relationship is getting onto different phases now. Its scary. Like, going to fall any minute. Refusing to start. Very positive the next. Its fun. But please don’t try this at home. Only trained artists.
Christmas was most sunny in new york. Went to Central park with a friend, walked in the rambles, which is a huge ecosystem inside central park and one of the top bird watching sites in the US. I googled that. Who cares really. But it was scary and we got lost in it. Got a coffee from the boathouse and sat on a rock near the lake. Sighed contentedly. Very much so.
Thought I’d do sooo much in this loong weekend. So Much. Drank and made merry. Thats a lot come to think of it.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Where Do You Go To My Lovely?
I’ve always believed it doesn’t work... even when I saw one myself, hoped for it to work, realised only too late that that hope was misplaced...I still believed all along that there was little chance of a light at the end of the tunnel. The odds against, seem insurmountable.
And now, I find myself at the beginning of yet another long distance relationship and I’m again hoping it works. Its not really a relationship yet, but its got such great potential to be one, if you know what I mean.
This time though, for some reason, it seems different. Not easier, just different in a good way.
They always do, says the devil’s advocate. I smirk saying, but you’re supposed to say that, thats your role, so I’m not listening.
I have a nasty feeling he’s smirking back at me behind my back.
Ah advocates!
And now, I find myself at the beginning of yet another long distance relationship and I’m again hoping it works. Its not really a relationship yet, but its got such great potential to be one, if you know what I mean.
This time though, for some reason, it seems different. Not easier, just different in a good way.
They always do, says the devil’s advocate. I smirk saying, but you’re supposed to say that, thats your role, so I’m not listening.
I have a nasty feeling he’s smirking back at me behind my back.
Ah advocates!
Sunday, December 9, 2007
I Am The Highway
Self reflecting day broken into points (cause its weirder that way):
1. I hate the sound of my alarm clock. Yeah, no surprise there. I suppose thats also one of the reasons it works every morning. Even on a freakin weekend.
But what’s worse is that its winning. The alarm clock that is. I swear to you. That cunning fox of a clock is hatching a plan by working its way into my subconscious.
Today afternoon, I was sitting alone in a coffee shop, doing the usual, whatever that is and suddenly I hear the clock. It hurt,no it pained..reached deep into me and brought out my deepest...well, pains. I’m usually sleeping when I hear this, so am not very threatening, but awake, I wanted to upturn the table, tear my clothes and slam my neighbours head into the wall. Thankfully, all I did was to throw my coffee in the air.
The coffee shop wasn’t much pleased. Not my fault that their microwave sounds like the devil worshipping thing that my Alarm Clock is (Notice the capitalised letters...yes, I’m giving it respect from now on).
2. I also took a journey to my past this afternoon. You know, trying to be nostalgic and the like. It was that kind of a day and I give in easy.
But the past is a country of its own. There are barbed wires all along the border and machine gun outposts every 50 yards. Civil war just around the corner.
So I got back a bit bruised. I like the present, only my Alarm Clock to fight with.
3. My potted plant almost died, what with all the snow and cold. But this plant I love, so I worked hard and its now happily revived. Not to its full glory, but much much better than when mother nature had her way with it.
About me:
Fights evil mechanical devices from the future threatening to take over the world, one mind at a time, jumps across borders and barbed wire to keep the past alive and saves lives from the ravishing effects of nature.
No movie offers or peace awards please. No time really.
1. I hate the sound of my alarm clock. Yeah, no surprise there. I suppose thats also one of the reasons it works every morning. Even on a freakin weekend.
But what’s worse is that its winning. The alarm clock that is. I swear to you. That cunning fox of a clock is hatching a plan by working its way into my subconscious.
Today afternoon, I was sitting alone in a coffee shop, doing the usual, whatever that is and suddenly I hear the clock. It hurt,no it pained..reached deep into me and brought out my deepest...well, pains. I’m usually sleeping when I hear this, so am not very threatening, but awake, I wanted to upturn the table, tear my clothes and slam my neighbours head into the wall. Thankfully, all I did was to throw my coffee in the air.
The coffee shop wasn’t much pleased. Not my fault that their microwave sounds like the devil worshipping thing that my Alarm Clock is (Notice the capitalised letters...yes, I’m giving it respect from now on).
2. I also took a journey to my past this afternoon. You know, trying to be nostalgic and the like. It was that kind of a day and I give in easy.
But the past is a country of its own. There are barbed wires all along the border and machine gun outposts every 50 yards. Civil war just around the corner.
So I got back a bit bruised. I like the present, only my Alarm Clock to fight with.
3. My potted plant almost died, what with all the snow and cold. But this plant I love, so I worked hard and its now happily revived. Not to its full glory, but much much better than when mother nature had her way with it.
About me:
Fights evil mechanical devices from the future threatening to take over the world, one mind at a time, jumps across borders and barbed wire to keep the past alive and saves lives from the ravishing effects of nature.
No movie offers or peace awards please. No time really.
Friday, November 30, 2007
If
Behind the door, she waited, she sighed and she debated. Between being happy and wanting to be happy. He's outside, parking the car, with a bouquet and a chocolate bar. Does he think he's had too much of this life or is he hanging on too?
What if the unkown boy of the future,
was the known boy in the past.
She loved him, but he lied. Told her he loved her and then he smiled. She saw through it all and brought it to a close. Time to move on, she’s with the next boy she wanted to know.
What if what you thought were lies,
you later found was truth.
He knew he was smart. College honours, high class job and the wit to go along. But the looks couldn’t keep up and the women went for the pretty ones. Nice boys finish last.
What if when wisdom comes,
everything else fades.
She finally smiled, opened the door, took the chocolate and the orchids. Said hey ho and kissed him on the side. Life’s too long to complain, over a few broken hearts and the one that got away.
What if...what if the unkown boy you waited for,
would be the boy that never showed.
What if the unkown boy of the future,
was the known boy in the past.
She loved him, but he lied. Told her he loved her and then he smiled. She saw through it all and brought it to a close. Time to move on, she’s with the next boy she wanted to know.
What if what you thought were lies,
you later found was truth.
He knew he was smart. College honours, high class job and the wit to go along. But the looks couldn’t keep up and the women went for the pretty ones. Nice boys finish last.
What if when wisdom comes,
everything else fades.
She finally smiled, opened the door, took the chocolate and the orchids. Said hey ho and kissed him on the side. Life’s too long to complain, over a few broken hearts and the one that got away.
What if...what if the unkown boy you waited for,
would be the boy that never showed.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Yellow Submarine
She never misses the chance to glance into someone else’s purse, hoping to catch a glimpse of their lives.
Sometimes when they’re not looking, she lets her gaze linger on.
He searches for horoscopes at the beginning of each month, trying to to find the one that fits right. He soaks it in and gets ready.
We all live in our yellow submarines.
Sometimes when they’re not looking, she lets her gaze linger on.
He searches for horoscopes at the beginning of each month, trying to to find the one that fits right. He soaks it in and gets ready.
We all live in our yellow submarines.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Somebody Told Me
Ever noticed how the third song in any (or should it be most) album is the best of the lot. I’ve heard tell of this for a while now. Straight from the horses (read artists) mouth at times too. And now, I’ve tested it out as well. Random sampling has been implemented and the jury is in. All of them. Whatever.
The third song is the best.
Irrefutable proof? Thats crazy talk now.
No proof. Just me and the jury. We’re incestuous that way.
That was always going to be easy though. The tough part is figuring out which is the second best. Bugger!
Ok then... we’re going out again. The jury, me and our best friend - random sampling.
The third song is the best.
Irrefutable proof? Thats crazy talk now.
No proof. Just me and the jury. We’re incestuous that way.
That was always going to be easy though. The tough part is figuring out which is the second best. Bugger!
Ok then... we’re going out again. The jury, me and our best friend - random sampling.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Yet Another Movie
Movie laundry days! I miss those movie laundry days. Take a ticket, get into a hall, see the movie, see another movie, see another movie. 3 for the price of 1. Bargain. No. Movie laundry days. (You get through all the clothes you want to clean in one whole day.....get it)
Saw Saawariya, Darjeeling Limited and Across the Universe. In that order.
You know, even if I was your enemy, I wouldn’t wish Saawariya on you. I’m nice that way. Its worse than a James Blunt song. I kid you not.
Saw Saawariya, Darjeeling Limited and Across the Universe. In that order.
You know, even if I was your enemy, I wouldn’t wish Saawariya on you. I’m nice that way. Its worse than a James Blunt song. I kid you not.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Don't Let Me Down
Alright then. Sucker for requests I am - but I think this attention thing can be dangerous. Don't spoil me.
Anyway.
hmm...12 days....where to begin.
JFK, new Air India plane, very very fancy, Delhi airport, home in south delhi.
The wedding was in full swing and I sort of jumped in. The adrenaline rushing around is just brilliant in these gatherings, what with arranging the pick ups, the drop offs, the ghodi, the marriage car, the reception, co-ordinating with people etc etc. Frankly I was surprised with the faith that was entrusted on me. One mistake and things could run off keel any minute. But fear not fellow worrier, the faith wasn’t misplaced. The america-returned boy done good.
“Bhabhi”, had 3 friends. Instant liking to 2 of them was shown (I think I fall in love easily, its the getting out thats always been tough....) Fickle you say. Fine, I’ll take that.
So 2 I said. One was of the cute, girl next door kind. The other, the smart, witty, no bullshit, knows what she wants, the one that you want kind. Anyway, murphy’s law intervened, I mentioned the girl next door to my cousin when prodded (I suppose it was the fear of being alienated by the no bullshit girl by being told she’s fancied...you know what I mean...yes you do.) The cousin said he’d keep it a secret and help, but he was such a girl! Very next day, I was linked and teased and linked again..all very publicly. It was fun the whole attention thing I must say. Had to play along, what to do, she was cute after all.
Next time, not that there are any cousins left to be married off, I shall keep mouth shut or develop balls to talk to no bullshit.
Again, fear not fellow worrier (I don’t know what this really means or who I refer to, but I think its funky, so it shall stay and be repeated every now and again)....we’re facebook friends now....I suppose thats a step in the right direction. The long distance sucks though. Oh but Facebook friends with both. Sigh. Choices. Wink.
But man, my aunties, oh the roving eyes of my aunties, the all seeing....they saw it all...they spread it all. Within minutes, I was asked “those” questions, the whens the whys....I thought only girls had to put up with this shit. Sigh.
1 day later, Indira Gandhi Airport, old Air India plane, very very pathetic, London, 3 days later, Heathrow, same shitty Air India plane, gay architect with present from Chandni chowk for his husband, JFK.
Anyway.
hmm...12 days....where to begin.
JFK, new Air India plane, very very fancy, Delhi airport, home in south delhi.
The wedding was in full swing and I sort of jumped in. The adrenaline rushing around is just brilliant in these gatherings, what with arranging the pick ups, the drop offs, the ghodi, the marriage car, the reception, co-ordinating with people etc etc. Frankly I was surprised with the faith that was entrusted on me. One mistake and things could run off keel any minute. But fear not fellow worrier, the faith wasn’t misplaced. The america-returned boy done good.
“Bhabhi”, had 3 friends. Instant liking to 2 of them was shown (I think I fall in love easily, its the getting out thats always been tough....) Fickle you say. Fine, I’ll take that.
So 2 I said. One was of the cute, girl next door kind. The other, the smart, witty, no bullshit, knows what she wants, the one that you want kind. Anyway, murphy’s law intervened, I mentioned the girl next door to my cousin when prodded (I suppose it was the fear of being alienated by the no bullshit girl by being told she’s fancied...you know what I mean...yes you do.) The cousin said he’d keep it a secret and help, but he was such a girl! Very next day, I was linked and teased and linked again..all very publicly. It was fun the whole attention thing I must say. Had to play along, what to do, she was cute after all.
Next time, not that there are any cousins left to be married off, I shall keep mouth shut or develop balls to talk to no bullshit.
Again, fear not fellow worrier (I don’t know what this really means or who I refer to, but I think its funky, so it shall stay and be repeated every now and again)....we’re facebook friends now....I suppose thats a step in the right direction. The long distance sucks though. Oh but Facebook friends with both. Sigh. Choices. Wink.
But man, my aunties, oh the roving eyes of my aunties, the all seeing....they saw it all...they spread it all. Within minutes, I was asked “those” questions, the whens the whys....I thought only girls had to put up with this shit. Sigh.
1 day later, Indira Gandhi Airport, old Air India plane, very very pathetic, London, 3 days later, Heathrow, same shitty Air India plane, gay architect with present from Chandni chowk for his husband, JFK.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Posters
Ah..back.
Not particularly happy to be back.
But back nonetheless.
12 days is so much to write about that I’m not going to. It shall still though, be noted that twas interesting beyond my expectations. There was responsibility, Delhi driving, a girl, delhi shopping, lots of alcohol, family hugging, family bitching, London stopping on the way over and of course the way over. And now its all over.
Interestingly, on the flight over and the flight back, both times, I was seated next to a gay guy. Apparently the probability of that is not small.The first guy could easily be considered on the handsome side of life and I was happy to see him out of the competition, though we never talked much. The second was an architect, lives very close to my neighbourhood and kept talking about his husband. For 8 hours. I liked him.
“Straight Single men like you are getting rarer and rarer, while straight single women are still a plenty” - gay architect.
Says the man who bought indian sweets from chandini chowk for his husband.
Watching Snatch. Going to burn 5 candles now for choti Diwali.
Not particularly happy to be back.
But back nonetheless.
12 days is so much to write about that I’m not going to. It shall still though, be noted that twas interesting beyond my expectations. There was responsibility, Delhi driving, a girl, delhi shopping, lots of alcohol, family hugging, family bitching, London stopping on the way over and of course the way over. And now its all over.
Interestingly, on the flight over and the flight back, both times, I was seated next to a gay guy. Apparently the probability of that is not small.The first guy could easily be considered on the handsome side of life and I was happy to see him out of the competition, though we never talked much. The second was an architect, lives very close to my neighbourhood and kept talking about his husband. For 8 hours. I liked him.
“Straight Single men like you are getting rarer and rarer, while straight single women are still a plenty” - gay architect.
Says the man who bought indian sweets from chandini chowk for his husband.
Watching Snatch. Going to burn 5 candles now for choti Diwali.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
We Will Become Silhouettes
Alright...its finally tomorrow, well almost. Tomorrow's when I board that tiny plane and head off to the mother ship..sweet, humid, tandoori chicken laden Delhi.
I tried to get hold of some old numbers and you know what, nobody's there anymore. Either they're in Bombay, Pune, Bangalore, Singapore..and where not or just married, which really is the same thing. I shouldn't be saying that, cause 2 of my bestest are there still, but its not the same without the whole gang, if you know what I mean.
So cousin's getting married and its been a while since I had a flavour of an indian wedding. Though he's the same age and since I'm not married and girlfriendless at the moment, "I'm dreading the aunties" would be an understatement. Sigh...maybe I'll tell them I'm gay and then pinch uncle...I'm guessing they'll say they understand and have nothing against that and then faint in front of my eyes...
Going to see the Shins today with roommate...new music club in NY, kind of like a going away party...
Roommate tells me that Indian Marriages are perfect to get hooked up in...I tell him we'll have to test that theory out now, won't we. But that'll totally mess up my fainted aunties...
I tried to get hold of some old numbers and you know what, nobody's there anymore. Either they're in Bombay, Pune, Bangalore, Singapore..and where not or just married, which really is the same thing. I shouldn't be saying that, cause 2 of my bestest are there still, but its not the same without the whole gang, if you know what I mean.
So cousin's getting married and its been a while since I had a flavour of an indian wedding. Though he's the same age and since I'm not married and girlfriendless at the moment, "I'm dreading the aunties" would be an understatement. Sigh...maybe I'll tell them I'm gay and then pinch uncle...I'm guessing they'll say they understand and have nothing against that and then faint in front of my eyes...
Going to see the Shins today with roommate...new music club in NY, kind of like a going away party...
Roommate tells me that Indian Marriages are perfect to get hooked up in...I tell him we'll have to test that theory out now, won't we. But that'll totally mess up my fainted aunties...
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Whats up
I think, the time has come to reacquaint myself with me alarm clock.....I sleep more than half my life (well the weekends and thats my life these days anyway)...and that just might be the reason I don't accomplish much in my life.
"Well, its one way to live" - says the right side of my brain.....the left side can't be bothered at the moment...its high.
"Well, its one way to live" - says the right side of my brain.....the left side can't be bothered at the moment...its high.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Skinny Love (Bon Iver)
* Happiness Love Misery*
Happiness is a mystery
She walks on padded feet
I’d trick her and hold her here
But she’s onto me.
Love’s wandering free
Been trying to get her in my tree
But she’s elusive as only she can be
Dance for me misery
Dance for me
To hell with padded feet
This tree’s ours, so feel free.
Happiness is a mystery
She walks on padded feet
I’d trick her and hold her here
But she’s onto me.
Love’s wandering free
Been trying to get her in my tree
But she’s elusive as only she can be
Dance for me misery
Dance for me
To hell with padded feet
This tree’s ours, so feel free.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Misty Mountain Hop
6000 miles, much sun and rain, much trying to copy the accent, and much more laughter than I had planned for, its back to the grind that is New York City.
This London just gets better every time...and one thinks its but fitting to write a few lines to declare one’s love ...of a city.
London, oh the ways in which I love thee...
- The music scene is pure brilliance there. Of course subjectivity filters in here, but I assure you...the live music streaming from the blues bars’ there shines.
- The accent - of course now.
- The no tipping concept. This is a much debated and usually hated issue with people who hang with moi. But really, what is with the compulsive, forced, tipping culture here in NYC. Even if service is bad, I am forced to tip here. London on the other hand promises that “what you see is what you pay” .... and you gotta admire the Brit for that. Well I do anyway.
- Everyone’s well dressed, abso-fuckin-lutely everyone. Compare that to NYC and one is like “what a dump”.
- The fact that London is a melting pot while New York is a Salad Bowl. Know what I mean...There is a lot of intermingling and "friends forever" culture among different ethnic cultures in London (e.g.there are a lot of inter race marriages in the UK).... In the US on the other hand, every race talks and works with the others, but at the end of the day keeps to itself and lives in its own divided pockets of the city.
Sigh...this is suddenly taking a serious and scarily political bent...and one hates getting serious and political, especially both at the same time.
Aight then peoples....off to have me tea, with a cracker and a dash of milk. Bloody well then.
This London just gets better every time...and one thinks its but fitting to write a few lines to declare one’s love ...of a city.
London, oh the ways in which I love thee...
- The music scene is pure brilliance there. Of course subjectivity filters in here, but I assure you...the live music streaming from the blues bars’ there shines.
- The accent - of course now.
- The no tipping concept. This is a much debated and usually hated issue with people who hang with moi. But really, what is with the compulsive, forced, tipping culture here in NYC. Even if service is bad, I am forced to tip here. London on the other hand promises that “what you see is what you pay” .... and you gotta admire the Brit for that. Well I do anyway.
- Everyone’s well dressed, abso-fuckin-lutely everyone. Compare that to NYC and one is like “what a dump”.
- The fact that London is a melting pot while New York is a Salad Bowl. Know what I mean...There is a lot of intermingling and "friends forever" culture among different ethnic cultures in London (e.g.there are a lot of inter race marriages in the UK).... In the US on the other hand, every race talks and works with the others, but at the end of the day keeps to itself and lives in its own divided pockets of the city.
Sigh...this is suddenly taking a serious and scarily political bent...and one hates getting serious and political, especially both at the same time.
Aight then peoples....off to have me tea, with a cracker and a dash of milk. Bloody well then.
Friday, September 28, 2007
London Calling
Am flying off to London in a few hours...going to meet mum dad and the gang o drunkards I called friends...still call actually. A weeks too short for this kind of thing, but bloody corporate america and its holiday schedule. Anyway, a week will do.
This one's going to be a wicked trip - I can feel it - like my spine's twinging with the excitement it gets whenever I look back at those days, only now it can smell it too...smell it real close.
Hope the weather holds up.
This one's going to be a wicked trip - I can feel it - like my spine's twinging with the excitement it gets whenever I look back at those days, only now it can smell it too...smell it real close.
Hope the weather holds up.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Where the streets have no name
Coffee shop conversation (Actually, this happened in Cafe Lalo, yes yes, the same coffee shop as in the movie "You've got mail" and currently its my neighbourhood coffeshop .....only nothing romantic this time, in fact quite the opposite)
Around midnight...
CrazyDiamond: sigh Coffee
AR(Roommate) : Coffee sigh
AR to waitress: Could we also have a Creme brûlée?
CD: ..... What?..anyway...
Coffee and Creme brûlée arrives....
CD: dude! its freakin heart shaped.
AR: yes, but its crispy on the outside.
CD: ........
(much nervous looking is done to see if hot waitress does not feel I much prefer same sex to the opposite)...
After a bite and few hmmmm's
AR: how'd you like it
CD: I like I like
AR: But its heart shaped
CD: yes, but its crispy on the outside
AR: .........
Around midnight...
CrazyDiamond: sigh Coffee
AR(Roommate) : Coffee sigh
AR to waitress: Could we also have a Creme brûlée?
CD: ..... What?..anyway...
Coffee and Creme brûlée arrives....
CD: dude! its freakin heart shaped.
AR: yes, but its crispy on the outside.
CD: ........
(much nervous looking is done to see if hot waitress does not feel I much prefer same sex to the opposite)...
After a bite and few hmmmm's
AR: how'd you like it
CD: I like I like
AR: But its heart shaped
CD: yes, but its crispy on the outside
AR: .........
Mad World
What of this world you call love
What of the smiles and the butterflies
What of the long midnight strolls I hear tell
What of the music, the joy that togetherness brings
Pretty picture you do paint
Many a times in your pretty head
But do forgive a cynic every now and again
For I’ve been wondering
What of this world you call love
What of the smiles and the butterflies
What of the long midnight strolls I hear tell
What of the music, the joy that togetherness brings
Pretty picture you do paint
Many a times in your pretty head
But do forgive a cynic every now and again
For I’ve been wondering
What of this world you call love
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Superstar (the Sonic Youth version)
New York has a gahzillion bars playing live music on any given weekend night....I happened to be in one this particular saturday. The first band was a classic (to be read as normal, boring, regular) indie band, complete with a female vocalist.
I understand that is the next big thing in the music industry. Bands with female lead vocalists that is.
They were good but just. The next band though were just fantastic...again indie/alternative with female vocalist. It wasn’t the music, which was great, it wasn’t the composition, which was great too, it were the lyrics...I lived a whole lifetime through them...
If I remember correctly, one of them went like --
“ If I had a time machine,
I could make you mine,
If I had a time machine,
I would set it to yesterday”
Suppose it sounds better when the lights are low, the drummers going crazy, the guitarist is trying out this psychedelic riff he came up with while high on some new age drug and the drinks help absorb it all in....atmosphere is after all what its all about. Oh and the vocalist was mind numbing hot as well...something about hot girls sharing with you in lifes' tragedies and loves' illusionary woven web...
so I shelled 20 bucks and bought their cd. Been listening to it...its good but just.
I understand that is the next big thing in the music industry. Bands with female lead vocalists that is.
They were good but just. The next band though were just fantastic...again indie/alternative with female vocalist. It wasn’t the music, which was great, it wasn’t the composition, which was great too, it were the lyrics...I lived a whole lifetime through them...
If I remember correctly, one of them went like --
“ If I had a time machine,
I could make you mine,
If I had a time machine,
I would set it to yesterday”
Suppose it sounds better when the lights are low, the drummers going crazy, the guitarist is trying out this psychedelic riff he came up with while high on some new age drug and the drinks help absorb it all in....atmosphere is after all what its all about. Oh and the vocalist was mind numbing hot as well...something about hot girls sharing with you in lifes' tragedies and loves' illusionary woven web...
so I shelled 20 bucks and bought their cd. Been listening to it...its good but just.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
The Final Cut
...... I’m not going anywhere, said the bee to the flower. I have your best interests at heart, for don’t we need each other to live, survive, and do other meaningless random things that God demands of earthly beings....
We’ll laugh, we’ll cry, we’ll make pretty flowers and little bees....There’ll be disco nights, huge drug parties, little couple dinners....we’ll live pretty flower, we’ll live!
The flower sighed, said you’re so nice, and the words you say melt my yellow heart away....but I see everything while being rooted here and what I don’t see - is enough reason to be. The meaningless random things don’t do anything to me anymore, but I’m not going anywhere either sweet little bee. I’ll do all you said with you and more...I’ll laugh and cry too....
....And then when we go to the great gig beyond the sky, we’ll ask God...was it exactly what you wanted....did we satisfy...
The Bee thought about it all and said, I know there's a moral to every story, but I'm missing the one in this.
The flower, who used to sigh before every line didn't this time but smiled and replied....there's never a moral to any story dear Bee, there's only perspective.
We’ll laugh, we’ll cry, we’ll make pretty flowers and little bees....There’ll be disco nights, huge drug parties, little couple dinners....we’ll live pretty flower, we’ll live!
The flower sighed, said you’re so nice, and the words you say melt my yellow heart away....but I see everything while being rooted here and what I don’t see - is enough reason to be. The meaningless random things don’t do anything to me anymore, but I’m not going anywhere either sweet little bee. I’ll do all you said with you and more...I’ll laugh and cry too....
....And then when we go to the great gig beyond the sky, we’ll ask God...was it exactly what you wanted....did we satisfy...
The Bee thought about it all and said, I know there's a moral to every story, but I'm missing the one in this.
The flower, who used to sigh before every line didn't this time but smiled and replied....there's never a moral to any story dear Bee, there's only perspective.
Friday, September 14, 2007
American Pie
Oh tragedy! The number of fans on my orkut profile went down by 2...what the hell is going on? No seriously, what the hell is going on ! I don’t even know which 2, otherwise there is nowhere that those two could hide....I demand to know why I am not fan material anymore....I mean whats stopping the others from running away now.
I logon a scared man everyday.
Luckily, facebook remains unaware of this social decline of mine.
Lately, my roommate and I, have noticed a lot of Indian girls going after gora dudes over Indian mustandas (see I exhibit self inflicting humour too)..what the hell is going on here as well? Well not a lot, just 2, but those were potential girl friend material nonetheless...and very devoted to their ex indian lover boys...what is this behaviour of jumping ships - pray tell. Very confusing especially with the indian ex bf past - we men are simple beings and always expect history to repeat itself....this is unfair we say!
and lastly, I think Manhattan is overrated. Just like that. Places like this tend to be.
But I think Cheetos are underrated..yummm
I logon a scared man everyday.
Luckily, facebook remains unaware of this social decline of mine.
Lately, my roommate and I, have noticed a lot of Indian girls going after gora dudes over Indian mustandas (see I exhibit self inflicting humour too)..what the hell is going on here as well? Well not a lot, just 2, but those were potential girl friend material nonetheless...and very devoted to their ex indian lover boys...what is this behaviour of jumping ships - pray tell. Very confusing especially with the indian ex bf past - we men are simple beings and always expect history to repeat itself....this is unfair we say!
and lastly, I think Manhattan is overrated. Just like that. Places like this tend to be.
But I think Cheetos are underrated..yummm
Monday, September 10, 2007
Time
So tonsilitis ridden I went to a fantastic birthday party, without giving a damn, yesterday night. Being single and missing out on Saturday night - sacrilege!
Not that anything came out of it in terms of breaking the current relationship status...but it was a ball of hay and I was jumping in it un-abandoned. Its so much fun partying with a fever...like party fever...hehe...so lame its funny...
and I have frankly given up on this relationship status not changing anyway. Its like that bullshit cliche...don’t go looking for love...so hear me world...I give up and chase no more...sigh
A friend and I had a lot of heart to heart random conversations this weekend...and she and me realised one thing...these heart to hearts are never random...cause we always ended up talking about just one freakin thing - “relationships”....past, future, exes, nonpresent relationship dilemmas, what will happen in the future yaar kinda things....
Twas decided that all this is just too much for one lifetime and we are to get the randomness back in the heart to hearts...so the blog being sort of an extension....it shall be desisted
ummm...
what else
ummm
fuckin’ ell’...
how about another calvin and hobbes quote:
Hobbes : "What are you doing?"
Calvin : "Being cool."
Hobbes : "You look more like you're bored."
Calvin : "The world bores you when you're cool."
Not that anything came out of it in terms of breaking the current relationship status...but it was a ball of hay and I was jumping in it un-abandoned. Its so much fun partying with a fever...like party fever...hehe...so lame its funny...
and I have frankly given up on this relationship status not changing anyway. Its like that bullshit cliche...don’t go looking for love...so hear me world...I give up and chase no more...sigh
A friend and I had a lot of heart to heart random conversations this weekend...and she and me realised one thing...these heart to hearts are never random...cause we always ended up talking about just one freakin thing - “relationships”....past, future, exes, nonpresent relationship dilemmas, what will happen in the future yaar kinda things....
Twas decided that all this is just too much for one lifetime and we are to get the randomness back in the heart to hearts...so the blog being sort of an extension....it shall be desisted
ummm...
what else
ummm
fuckin’ ell’...
how about another calvin and hobbes quote:
Hobbes : "What are you doing?"
Calvin : "Being cool."
Hobbes : "You look more like you're bored."
Calvin : "The world bores you when you're cool."
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Zombie
Ugh I hate getting this tonsilitis every now and then, hate it with a vengance.
I revolted against it - went with a whole attack without medication. Oh yeah you tonsilitis bitch, I can take whatever you can throw.
I rebeled against it - threw alcohol, cubes of ice, icecream, and tobacco down it when it was at its inflated glory most.
I cried for it to go away, I ignored it, I saw movie marathon marathons while under its prowess...
But I never cut them off. I remained loyal...no part of my body, no matter how badly it misbehaves, was to be let go.
(deadpan, threatening, scary you-know-shit-is-going-to-go-down background music begins)
I don’t throw those tantrums anymore and I think the time has come to let go.
(background music tails off with a closeup of a tonsil screaming and running down the streets of a non-descript neighbourhood)
I revolted against it - went with a whole attack without medication. Oh yeah you tonsilitis bitch, I can take whatever you can throw.
I rebeled against it - threw alcohol, cubes of ice, icecream, and tobacco down it when it was at its inflated glory most.
I cried for it to go away, I ignored it, I saw movie marathon marathons while under its prowess...
But I never cut them off. I remained loyal...no part of my body, no matter how badly it misbehaves, was to be let go.
(deadpan, threatening, scary you-know-shit-is-going-to-go-down background music begins)
I don’t throw those tantrums anymore and I think the time has come to let go.
(background music tails off with a closeup of a tonsil screaming and running down the streets of a non-descript neighbourhood)
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Country Roads
This labour day weekend had a bad start...thats cause it started very very early. Five of us rode out towards John Denver’s mountain momma at 7 in the freakin morning and man, was is it a long drive. Thank god it was a good group o boys and girls else no one would have lasted.
(Though just between you and me, the diversity in the music was very very difficult to take and I am anything if choosy in that area. Ah well, worse compromises have been made....)
It was a white wafter rafting trip, yes sir, and we had rented this kick ass lodge somewhere in West Virginia with its own hot tub and what not. Ah the pleasures this money thingy can buy.
I actually thought white wafter rafting would be crazy with huge whirlpools and waterfalls to be navigated. Who’d have thought that its a “slightly” toned down version than that, but a load of fun still. People were falling off the raft, jumping into water and we even had our own pirate like boarding of another raft...
and back at the lodge, so much drinking and so much laughing and other silliness continued...West Virginia sure has its unfair share of natural beauty and was even compared to Switzerland by one in the group who had much travel experience in her bag. Putting America in the same league as Europe - Sacrilege I said!
oh and by the end of the trip I was told that my sense of humour is up there with the best..cest moi? - One just cocked his head, laughed, shrugged and got on with making other people’s lives happier :)
A Calvin & Hobbes quote to start things happy today...
"I'm a simple man, Hobbes."
"You?? Yesterday you wanted a nuclear powered car that could turn into a jet with laser-guided heat-seeking missiles!"
"I'm a simple man with complex tastes."
(Though just between you and me, the diversity in the music was very very difficult to take and I am anything if choosy in that area. Ah well, worse compromises have been made....)
It was a white wafter rafting trip, yes sir, and we had rented this kick ass lodge somewhere in West Virginia with its own hot tub and what not. Ah the pleasures this money thingy can buy.
I actually thought white wafter rafting would be crazy with huge whirlpools and waterfalls to be navigated. Who’d have thought that its a “slightly” toned down version than that, but a load of fun still. People were falling off the raft, jumping into water and we even had our own pirate like boarding of another raft...
and back at the lodge, so much drinking and so much laughing and other silliness continued...West Virginia sure has its unfair share of natural beauty and was even compared to Switzerland by one in the group who had much travel experience in her bag. Putting America in the same league as Europe - Sacrilege I said!
oh and by the end of the trip I was told that my sense of humour is up there with the best..cest moi? - One just cocked his head, laughed, shrugged and got on with making other people’s lives happier :)
A Calvin & Hobbes quote to start things happy today...
"I'm a simple man, Hobbes."
"You?? Yesterday you wanted a nuclear powered car that could turn into a jet with laser-guided heat-seeking missiles!"
"I'm a simple man with complex tastes."
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Photographs
*Beautiful Lie*
Hmm…tell me a lie
Make it beautiful in case you try
There’s enough already to make me cry
So in case you cared
I’ve made a few mistakes
But there were moments
So delicious, like a wedding cake
They were all and now they're gone
Lived beside in an ephemeral plane
So tell me a lie
But make it beautiful in case you try
Hmm…tell me a lie
Make it beautiful in case you try
There’s enough already to make me cry
So in case you cared
I’ve made a few mistakes
But there were moments
So delicious, like a wedding cake
They were all and now they're gone
Lived beside in an ephemeral plane
So tell me a lie
But make it beautiful in case you try
Mardy Bum
Rhetorical questioning of the blogging kind.
- Why is it that female bloggers are more interesting than the alternative.
- Why are the best drugs illegal. On that, why are the best things illegal. Is that what makes them best -- ah too much for a hangoverish saturday morning to consider.
*ties knot for later reckoning*
- Why is it that when I choose shuffle on my iTunes it always chooses the boring lot of songs.
- Why on earth do I have a “boring lot” of songs.
- Why the fuck can’t money buy love.
- Why have I been choosing song titles as my blog titles all along.
- Why are almost all my friends happy in their jobs but not in their social sides.
- Why do nice guys finish last.
- Where have all the nice girls gone.
- But seriously what’s up with this iTunes shuffle. Its pissing me now. *throws knot at lappie, insitgates iTunes shuffle further*
- Why is it that female bloggers are more interesting than the alternative.
- Why are the best drugs illegal. On that, why are the best things illegal. Is that what makes them best -- ah too much for a hangoverish saturday morning to consider.
*ties knot for later reckoning*
- Why is it that when I choose shuffle on my iTunes it always chooses the boring lot of songs.
- Why on earth do I have a “boring lot” of songs.
- Why the fuck can’t money buy love.
- Why have I been choosing song titles as my blog titles all along.
- Why are almost all my friends happy in their jobs but not in their social sides.
- Why do nice guys finish last.
- Where have all the nice girls gone.
- But seriously what’s up with this iTunes shuffle. Its pissing me now. *throws knot at lappie, insitgates iTunes shuffle further*
Friday, August 24, 2007
Crazy
This guy has had a crazy week reader. Ups and Downs, sideways, pushback...the whole chit bang paraphernalia. And I'm not sure if I liked it all. Sigh.
Actually, I think there's a pattern here. Its not that the worlds conspiring or God hates me...nah, its not the usual reasons.
The thing is, I think I feel like typing and writing these blog thingies only when I'm not feeling the "happy". I wonder why. Maybe I have subconsciously built in the concept that the best writers are the depressed writers. Sigh again.
So let me tell you about my week so that you can read it all in 5 minutes and vicariously derive pleasure from someone else's mishaps. Think of it like the Gladiator days of yore. The crowd shouting and pleasing and enjoying the suffering below and then going to their pretty lives afterwards! Ah sigh with me.
The week started with my boss developing this crazed illusion that keeping me in the office till late at night, would be the perfect solution to understanding and taming the recently raped financial markets. The markets still remain raped and my boss still is rock solid in his delusions. I get fucked in the process. But isn't that how these things roll anyway. Freak.
And then on the luove front, I had been developing this relationship with this girl for some time on the new american dream, i.e. Facebook. It was going perfect and I was totally like Brad Pitt personified in my messages...you know, saying the right thing at the right time kinda. Well, so it transpired that we decided to meet up this week. So meet we did and I blew it to tiny tiny shiny shiny pieces. It was insane I tell you. I totally transformed into this random loser fuck and there was even this out of body experience where I saw myself digging this beautiful stinky mess, but it was so deep that even though my out of body gave a helping hand, my sinking-in-the-mess body was in so deep that it was all futile ( I have now developed a hatred towards the word futile, for some reason or the other)
Ah well. At least we both got decently tipsy. But that was it. Took taxi to respective homes and now my messaging brad pitt like personality is heartbroken. And you know what..... I actually liked this girl. Ah the possibilities that have been eliminated. Sigh Sigh Sigh.
So then, enjoy the suffering..take it in, feel happy...relatively that is. While my super messaging personality fights it out with my loser fuck personality - and this time I am not for the underdog.
Actually, I think there's a pattern here. Its not that the worlds conspiring or God hates me...nah, its not the usual reasons.
The thing is, I think I feel like typing and writing these blog thingies only when I'm not feeling the "happy". I wonder why. Maybe I have subconsciously built in the concept that the best writers are the depressed writers. Sigh again.
So let me tell you about my week so that you can read it all in 5 minutes and vicariously derive pleasure from someone else's mishaps. Think of it like the Gladiator days of yore. The crowd shouting and pleasing and enjoying the suffering below and then going to their pretty lives afterwards! Ah sigh with me.
The week started with my boss developing this crazed illusion that keeping me in the office till late at night, would be the perfect solution to understanding and taming the recently raped financial markets. The markets still remain raped and my boss still is rock solid in his delusions. I get fucked in the process. But isn't that how these things roll anyway. Freak.
And then on the luove front, I had been developing this relationship with this girl for some time on the new american dream, i.e. Facebook. It was going perfect and I was totally like Brad Pitt personified in my messages...you know, saying the right thing at the right time kinda. Well, so it transpired that we decided to meet up this week. So meet we did and I blew it to tiny tiny shiny shiny pieces. It was insane I tell you. I totally transformed into this random loser fuck and there was even this out of body experience where I saw myself digging this beautiful stinky mess, but it was so deep that even though my out of body gave a helping hand, my sinking-in-the-mess body was in so deep that it was all futile ( I have now developed a hatred towards the word futile, for some reason or the other)
Ah well. At least we both got decently tipsy. But that was it. Took taxi to respective homes and now my messaging brad pitt like personality is heartbroken. And you know what..... I actually liked this girl. Ah the possibilities that have been eliminated. Sigh Sigh Sigh.
So then, enjoy the suffering..take it in, feel happy...relatively that is. While my super messaging personality fights it out with my loser fuck personality - and this time I am not for the underdog.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
What if God was one of us
*Deleted Post*
That was just insane.
Singing without a reason - just had to be taken off the air
:)
That was just insane.
Singing without a reason - just had to be taken off the air
:)
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
You Know I'm No Good
......so dehydrated, been drinking water like a well. There’s a river of alcohol that runs right through vegas (which by the way is all freakin free)...and pretty people with innocent lives waging bets with wages they can’t ..... ah hell..I'm going to fuck the melodramatics - it was an absolute blast.
The ephemeral nature of the “be bad here” nature is so charming, its addictive. Its all over and touches everyone. You can do absolutely anything, be anyone and Vegas promises to keep your secret! - now which city can legally get away by claiming a trademark logo as “whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” - the cheek! I’m in absolute awe of the nerve it shows.
Of course thats just a concept and of course I didn’t have close to 1% of the “fear and loathing...” experience...but still, it was an absolute blast. One of my craziest ( and I do crazy!). I dipped in the river and I waged with the innocents.
I thought I’d elaborate - but then what would be the point of the logo.
PS
most of its a haze but I can't get this memory of listening to Amy Winehouse's " You know I'm no good" while stuttering along the strip - very surreal it was.
The ephemeral nature of the “be bad here” nature is so charming, its addictive. Its all over and touches everyone. You can do absolutely anything, be anyone and Vegas promises to keep your secret! - now which city can legally get away by claiming a trademark logo as “whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” - the cheek! I’m in absolute awe of the nerve it shows.
Of course thats just a concept and of course I didn’t have close to 1% of the “fear and loathing...” experience...but still, it was an absolute blast. One of my craziest ( and I do crazy!). I dipped in the river and I waged with the innocents.
I thought I’d elaborate - but then what would be the point of the logo.
PS
most of its a haze but I can't get this memory of listening to Amy Winehouse's " You know I'm no good" while stuttering along the strip - very surreal it was.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Teenage Wasteland
So then, what is it about vegas? Pray tell...
Sin city, jugular of the american dream....ruthless, homeless....beautiful, extravagant....cobweb afternoons, debaucherous nights, secretive vegas......
Of course I would be none the wiser after I emerge from the drug induced alcoholic binge that I shall be jumping into...for it has to be done! In fact it has already been set in motion and I have been told its an unstoppable thing...
and then of course there’s the money...ah but alice and the white rabbit in the corner tell me that they don’t care for money....it don’t buy them love...or was that Elvis..this is all too much for a friday morning....and then I see the fucker...the mad hatter...no! he sees me...fuck...
Sin city, jugular of the american dream....ruthless, homeless....beautiful, extravagant....cobweb afternoons, debaucherous nights, secretive vegas......
Of course I would be none the wiser after I emerge from the drug induced alcoholic binge that I shall be jumping into...for it has to be done! In fact it has already been set in motion and I have been told its an unstoppable thing...
and then of course there’s the money...ah but alice and the white rabbit in the corner tell me that they don’t care for money....it don’t buy them love...or was that Elvis..this is all too much for a friday morning....and then I see the fucker...the mad hatter...no! he sees me...fuck...
Sunday, August 5, 2007
White Rabbit
It appears that the roller coaster is real. And seems like realisation hits only in the lows. Is that why most artist are presumed to be depressed during the best applications of their mind? So why does that not apply to scientists then?
Just finished Warren Ellis’ new book. Think its much over hyped. Basically sucks, though its got its fair share of good paragraphs. A few good paragraphs is what I look for in most books anyway. Did I mention that I used to be an avid book reader, but am now reduced to scarce one night stands.
Am re-reading “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” for my soon to come Vegas weekend - its the most hilarious book ever- the kind that makes you loose all sense of reality and uncontrollably laugh out loud, only to realise that you’re inside a crowded subway and the journey going forward will never be the same.
If I get to have even close to 1% of those experiences I shall die a happy man. That is the bent of my prayers these days anyway. Wish me luck world, crazy luck.
Just finished Warren Ellis’ new book. Think its much over hyped. Basically sucks, though its got its fair share of good paragraphs. A few good paragraphs is what I look for in most books anyway. Did I mention that I used to be an avid book reader, but am now reduced to scarce one night stands.
Am re-reading “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” for my soon to come Vegas weekend - its the most hilarious book ever- the kind that makes you loose all sense of reality and uncontrollably laugh out loud, only to realise that you’re inside a crowded subway and the journey going forward will never be the same.
If I get to have even close to 1% of those experiences I shall die a happy man. That is the bent of my prayers these days anyway. Wish me luck world, crazy luck.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Like A Stone
You know what. He’s not all that bad!
I was so dreading going for the concert. I mean, I didn’t really like his new album and based on that, I thought that he would be, well, mellow.
But Ladies and freakin Gentlemen, Chris Cornell is anything if. Anything. if.
He’s got that irritatingly confident good vibe about him too. I suppose when he made a deal with the devil for his fuckin voice he also threw in charm and looks. Smart lad that. Mick J buddy...lesson learnt huh!
It was a bloody good show at that too (Although the guitarist could have done with a wee bit more practice). And I lived a lifetime in that show. Almost every song seemed to pick up a stage in my life and Cornell sang it out aloud to the crowd. Fucker!
Oh and he also got his little son out in the middle too for a while - suppose he is mellowing!
So here you go....
“And on my deathbed I will pray
To the gods and the angels
Like a pagan to anyone
Who will take me to heaven”
I was so dreading going for the concert. I mean, I didn’t really like his new album and based on that, I thought that he would be, well, mellow.
But Ladies and freakin Gentlemen, Chris Cornell is anything if. Anything. if.
He’s got that irritatingly confident good vibe about him too. I suppose when he made a deal with the devil for his fuckin voice he also threw in charm and looks. Smart lad that. Mick J buddy...lesson learnt huh!
It was a bloody good show at that too (Although the guitarist could have done with a wee bit more practice). And I lived a lifetime in that show. Almost every song seemed to pick up a stage in my life and Cornell sang it out aloud to the crowd. Fucker!
Oh and he also got his little son out in the middle too for a while - suppose he is mellowing!
So here you go....
“And on my deathbed I will pray
To the gods and the angels
Like a pagan to anyone
Who will take me to heaven”
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Kryptonite
Alright...so I think I’m onto something now.Consider this...
If you were given the option to choose exactly one superpower, what would it be? Just one huh.
Most people, first thought, they choose the power of flight. I think its proven somewhere or the other. Regardless, assume it so.
But oh of course, you, yes you, the one with the left-right head movement - we wouldn'tt have chosen flight right - cause we're way too creative - aren’t you now?....any-case, sarcastic superpower aside, most people choose flight! Like Superman!
But consider the power of flight as a superpower on its own, bereft of super-strength and what have you - you couldn’t fly at more than 10-20mph for fear of a branch breaking your ass, or fly into big buildings or testosterone pumped villains...looses its appeal doesn’t it a wee bit.
So then, digression superpower aside (alright I’ll stop), as we live within the constraints of my question, ...what pray would you be choosing?
After a lot of wondering and deep thought, brought about by a soberness of late and gamuts of free time...I think I’m onto something...
Invisibility.
Ponder it dear non-invisible humans.
If you were given the option to choose exactly one superpower, what would it be? Just one huh.
Most people, first thought, they choose the power of flight. I think its proven somewhere or the other. Regardless, assume it so.
But oh of course, you, yes you, the one with the left-right head movement - we wouldn'tt have chosen flight right - cause we're way too creative - aren’t you now?....any-case, sarcastic superpower aside, most people choose flight! Like Superman!
But consider the power of flight as a superpower on its own, bereft of super-strength and what have you - you couldn’t fly at more than 10-20mph for fear of a branch breaking your ass, or fly into big buildings or testosterone pumped villains...looses its appeal doesn’t it a wee bit.
So then, digression superpower aside (alright I’ll stop), as we live within the constraints of my question, ...what pray would you be choosing?
After a lot of wondering and deep thought, brought about by a soberness of late and gamuts of free time...I think I’m onto something...
Invisibility.
Ponder it dear non-invisible humans.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
The Middle
Something happened this morning that got me thinking and now I “think” I can totally relate to those days of yore when you’d go and kill the frikkin messenger...
So earlier in the day was feeling on the low side of the good life and suddenly popped these 2 messages....2 beautiful full of possibility messages and poof! I tell you I had wings.
I reveled in the joyness and thought ( its a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it) - if these 2 messages could make me so happy, imagine what a sad message could have done then...
Cause of course, when we go happy, we go happy with a bungee tied to us......not all the way.
But when we go sad though, we go sad with a frikkin brick attached.....all the way.
If you know what I mean.
And if I’m going down I’m taking you, yes you the harbinger of misfortune, down with me (Its a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it)
So earlier in the day was feeling on the low side of the good life and suddenly popped these 2 messages....2 beautiful full of possibility messages and poof! I tell you I had wings.
I reveled in the joyness and thought ( its a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it) - if these 2 messages could make me so happy, imagine what a sad message could have done then...
Cause of course, when we go happy, we go happy with a bungee tied to us......not all the way.
But when we go sad though, we go sad with a frikkin brick attached.....all the way.
If you know what I mean.
And if I’m going down I’m taking you, yes you the harbinger of misfortune, down with me (Its a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it)
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Come Together
Oh technicolour dream
Cocooned within your seams
Time paths entwine
And I chose the wrong one
Without blinking an eye
Easy choices
So hard it is to fathom
The magic you weave
When even mermaids were easier to leave
Oh technicolour dream
Wish I’d blinked that eye
And now another path you paint my way
So hard to fathom
Cocooned within your seams
Time paths entwine
And I chose the wrong one
Without blinking an eye
Easy choices
So hard it is to fathom
The magic you weave
When even mermaids were easier to leave
Oh technicolour dream
Wish I’d blinked that eye
And now another path you paint my way
So hard to fathom
Thursday, July 12, 2007
One Headlight
Love this quote.
"Life shouldn’t be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, totally worn out and screaming, “Woohoo, what a ride!”"
Now to live it. WooHoo.
"Life shouldn’t be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, totally worn out and screaming, “Woohoo, what a ride!”"
Now to live it. WooHoo.
Friday, July 6, 2007
So Long, Marianne
There’s a topic. But for fear of being read I don’t write it.
There are answers. But for fear of being answered I don’t ask.
There are moments. But for fear of fear I don’t wander.
Don’t understand me....don’t try. Even I don’t venture there when I get all weird and sucky. The spell check tells me sucky’s not a word and highlights it in red for the world to see...maybe not in your dictionary buddy...but in my life, sucky’s a reality.
Emotions are a funny thing. Ever considered giving them up. Not that thats an option (they’re fastened to your soul with their fine spider web). But for the sake of the dreaming, just saying no at the gates of entry...”no thanks, I think I’ll do fine without that...just fine. The downside emotions look scary and too many to me...can I instead substitute that with the ability to fly and x-ray eyes.”
I learnt that in Vedic astrology they believe that life has 60% lows and 40% ups/happy days etc. Kinda depressing. Ah well, join the club.
Play something for me Leonard, play something
“Oh, you are really such a pretty one.
I see you've gone and changed your name again.
And just when I climbed this whole mountainside,
to wash my eyelids in the rain!
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began
to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again. “
There are answers. But for fear of being answered I don’t ask.
There are moments. But for fear of fear I don’t wander.
Don’t understand me....don’t try. Even I don’t venture there when I get all weird and sucky. The spell check tells me sucky’s not a word and highlights it in red for the world to see...maybe not in your dictionary buddy...but in my life, sucky’s a reality.
Emotions are a funny thing. Ever considered giving them up. Not that thats an option (they’re fastened to your soul with their fine spider web). But for the sake of the dreaming, just saying no at the gates of entry...”no thanks, I think I’ll do fine without that...just fine. The downside emotions look scary and too many to me...can I instead substitute that with the ability to fly and x-ray eyes.”
I learnt that in Vedic astrology they believe that life has 60% lows and 40% ups/happy days etc. Kinda depressing. Ah well, join the club.
Play something for me Leonard, play something
“Oh, you are really such a pretty one.
I see you've gone and changed your name again.
And just when I climbed this whole mountainside,
to wash my eyelids in the rain!
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began
to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again. “
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Sympathy for the Devil
Bhutan’s a crazy country, but then again I think most countries are crazy in their own crazy ways.
Its a very pretty country too, even though that comes at a price for the Bhutanese. But thats a story for a later day.
So interestingly, when I went a visiting Bhutan I heard this story about the great non-vegetarian Buddhist race. You heard me.
And the story went ....
When Buddhism spread to Bhutan, there wasn’t much that grew in terms of agriculture. The locals thrived/survived on the meat of the land and as little farming as was needed ( I know its a bummer, but you do need some veggies!).
Now there’s a dictum in buddhism, which states that whatever you get in alms you have to eat it (emphasis on the “have to”). So it came to be that the early monks went begging for food in Bhutan and got only meat to eat, which they.... well ate. It was the Dictum you know.
To cut long stories short ( thats also a general protest), slowly Bhutan became predominantly Bhuddist. Ummm, predominantly Non Veg Bhuddist. But there was a slight problem - buddhists don’t kill. So, who then?
Simple really - they herd the sheep near a cliff and scare them ( with sticks and screams) over the cliff and claim to the great stomach god that they didn’t kill, but hey, now that they’re dead why waste it.
Man - 1 God - 0. Bring it on.
Its a very pretty country too, even though that comes at a price for the Bhutanese. But thats a story for a later day.
So interestingly, when I went a visiting Bhutan I heard this story about the great non-vegetarian Buddhist race. You heard me.
And the story went ....
When Buddhism spread to Bhutan, there wasn’t much that grew in terms of agriculture. The locals thrived/survived on the meat of the land and as little farming as was needed ( I know its a bummer, but you do need some veggies!).
Now there’s a dictum in buddhism, which states that whatever you get in alms you have to eat it (emphasis on the “have to”). So it came to be that the early monks went begging for food in Bhutan and got only meat to eat, which they.... well ate. It was the Dictum you know.
To cut long stories short ( thats also a general protest), slowly Bhutan became predominantly Bhuddist. Ummm, predominantly Non Veg Bhuddist. But there was a slight problem - buddhists don’t kill. So, who then?
Simple really - they herd the sheep near a cliff and scare them ( with sticks and screams) over the cliff and claim to the great stomach god that they didn’t kill, but hey, now that they’re dead why waste it.
Man - 1 God - 0. Bring it on.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Masters of War
An Immovable object. An Unstoppable force. Poor Immovable object.
War. Now thats not an interesting concept. Depends who you ask (which is the case with everything really, now isn’t it?). But what is war and what is it good for (go ahead sing the rest).
Its not worth the blood, but thats not the point. Its not worth the money, but maybe there should be a point to that. For isn’t the short term gain all that matters to overcrowd the pain and perhaps thats the answer to Dylan’s question as he croons:
“ Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul”
Ah Dylan. Crazy innocent Dylan. Who cares? Who’s seen death take its toll, Dylan? Or lived to tell the tale. Hah!
Meandering of thoughts aside, we’ve had wars since the beginning (the beginning of whatever) and they’ve all been justified - so what if its the victor who justifies, who writes - so what. So what if there are protestors crying hoarse. That is the nature of protestors.
Not sure what I am attempting here (if anything this is not a justification nor a protest) but was listening to Dylan and thought this up.
Then iTunes shuffles and now Dylan’s trying to take on religion.
Ah religion. Now thats not an interesting concept.
War. Now thats not an interesting concept. Depends who you ask (which is the case with everything really, now isn’t it?). But what is war and what is it good for (go ahead sing the rest).
Its not worth the blood, but thats not the point. Its not worth the money, but maybe there should be a point to that. For isn’t the short term gain all that matters to overcrowd the pain and perhaps thats the answer to Dylan’s question as he croons:
“ Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul”
Ah Dylan. Crazy innocent Dylan. Who cares? Who’s seen death take its toll, Dylan? Or lived to tell the tale. Hah!
Meandering of thoughts aside, we’ve had wars since the beginning (the beginning of whatever) and they’ve all been justified - so what if its the victor who justifies, who writes - so what. So what if there are protestors crying hoarse. That is the nature of protestors.
Not sure what I am attempting here (if anything this is not a justification nor a protest) but was listening to Dylan and thought this up.
Then iTunes shuffles and now Dylan’s trying to take on religion.
Ah religion. Now thats not an interesting concept.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Tujhe Dekha Toh Yeh Jaana Sanam
hehehehe....oh my god ( I believe its really omg nowadays, but I can't spell for nuts anyway :))
anycase, the point being, I have been laughing my ass off on these videos, exactly what I did when they came out...and its only fair to share.
So laugh you lovely people laugh. Or don't if you don't want to. Just don't blame me if you die poor, alone and unloved and your rotting corpse is eaten by your cats who by now are your only friends.
My pheborit is the gabbar dialogue at the end of the sholay one.
sholay special :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vidrIzwuXMA
ask the punkass :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RP_sJtuwJkk&mode=related&search=
simpu singh :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZS17KRReAk&mode=related&search=
anycase, the point being, I have been laughing my ass off on these videos, exactly what I did when they came out...and its only fair to share.
So laugh you lovely people laugh. Or don't if you don't want to. Just don't blame me if you die poor, alone and unloved and your rotting corpse is eaten by your cats who by now are your only friends.
My pheborit is the gabbar dialogue at the end of the sholay one.
sholay special :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vidrIzwuXMA
ask the punkass :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RP_sJtuwJkk&mode=related&search=
simpu singh :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZS17KRReAk&mode=related&search=
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Ziggy Stardust
Its been a while now me hearties, but with great power comes great responsibility. Ah! fear not, even I don’t know what I say.
But its been a good couple of weeks - of the bitter sweet variety. There have been the usual award winning worker bee days, the almost romances and the happy melancholic wine drinking lava lamp watching reflective days.
Elaborate I shall. For the show shall go on.
So I embarked on my first business trip in the new job, but the whole troupe of us was besieged by the weather demon. Planes were cancelled, hotels were rebooked, long queues among saddened faces were beared - I don't like business travel already. But it was all worth it, for you see, an award I was given at the company gathering once the planes landed. Me. A worker bee. A glorified worker bee. My kingdom for the abandonment of a hippie.
A friend's visiting over and she has this notion of love that is so sweet and pure that its just not true. But you try and argue with her. There’s always true love around the corner waiting to happen, somebody who truly loves you for the end of time and you will find her she says. But what if... you will. But I did and now...you will. But it doesn’t make sense ....you will and it makes sense.
Ah women!
And then there are the almost romances. What is up with that? Its like everyone likes everyone....but just to that extent. The fear of romance ( some call it commitment) lingers evermore. I see it so often. Everyone’s putting it off for something...career, studies, just plain unsure, or waiting for the love around the corner. So many wasted chances, so many. To steal a fellow bloggers words “ its like there are women and there are no women in my life all at once”.
Nobody's willing to sail into the wind anymore....suppose thats the bane of maturity.
(I tend to overuse “everyone" so excuse the extremism)
And then the week ended in a bang. It had been long in the planning, but plans like these never lend themselves well to planning. So on a random Sunday afternoon, under the glare of a neon sign, on a whimsical notion under whimsical influences, we bought tickets to that great gig in the sky. The date is set. Vegas is mine to conquer. I will be Ziggy. I will play guitar.
But its been a good couple of weeks - of the bitter sweet variety. There have been the usual award winning worker bee days, the almost romances and the happy melancholic wine drinking lava lamp watching reflective days.
Elaborate I shall. For the show shall go on.
So I embarked on my first business trip in the new job, but the whole troupe of us was besieged by the weather demon. Planes were cancelled, hotels were rebooked, long queues among saddened faces were beared - I don't like business travel already. But it was all worth it, for you see, an award I was given at the company gathering once the planes landed. Me. A worker bee. A glorified worker bee. My kingdom for the abandonment of a hippie.
A friend's visiting over and she has this notion of love that is so sweet and pure that its just not true. But you try and argue with her. There’s always true love around the corner waiting to happen, somebody who truly loves you for the end of time and you will find her she says. But what if... you will. But I did and now...you will. But it doesn’t make sense ....you will and it makes sense.
Ah women!
And then there are the almost romances. What is up with that? Its like everyone likes everyone....but just to that extent. The fear of romance ( some call it commitment) lingers evermore. I see it so often. Everyone’s putting it off for something...career, studies, just plain unsure, or waiting for the love around the corner. So many wasted chances, so many. To steal a fellow bloggers words “ its like there are women and there are no women in my life all at once”.
Nobody's willing to sail into the wind anymore....suppose thats the bane of maturity.
(I tend to overuse “everyone" so excuse the extremism)
And then the week ended in a bang. It had been long in the planning, but plans like these never lend themselves well to planning. So on a random Sunday afternoon, under the glare of a neon sign, on a whimsical notion under whimsical influences, we bought tickets to that great gig in the sky. The date is set. Vegas is mine to conquer. I will be Ziggy. I will play guitar.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Changes it does
There’s got to be a change here. This blog seems too impersonal. I am not even very clear on when the whole blog thingy started up and why I ventured forth....perhaps a penchant for being part of the wagon...”everyone’s doing it...you just sit around anyway...perhaps you have interesting things to say, you never do shut up...so get on the wagon brother”...get I did.
Anyway, since it’s in motion and I am apparently in possession of one blogger ID, I feel the need to comply...
So there are two types of blogs feels I. The ones that “write for self”, the ones that “write for others”...mine was (is) a write for self.....which is why it was all impersonal. “Write for selfs” rarely go into vast monologues about their recent escapades. I mean I just lived them moments a while back and now I should write it in flowery linguistic appeal only to post it on the mean ass WWW. That just stinks of “Write for others”....hence the the poetical, philosophical, non-autobiographical bent of the erstwhile-to-be blog of mine.
Why the perceived need for change?
Its too boring.The fun blogs are the “write for others’. I want to be a fun blog. I shall write my day to day wanderings in flowery ramblings. Q.E.D.
But then that nagging irritating questioner in the background asks, who’s the “others” you write for einstein....the “Others” was just for purpose of distinction dear Watson.
I hate the titles though for every post. If I choose a title before writing the post do I need to structure it to suit the title. Isn't that a trifle constraining. If I choose afterwards, then what title would be best as the post does not comply to one definition. Ah choices!
Come to think of it I lead a decently boring life...a very boring life...I could lie...I’m not good at lying. Maybe I could intersperse a bit of the “write for self” with the “write for others”...a bulb lights up somewhere in the background...a hybrid blog. With new brimming confidence my mind succumbs to the artificial comfort screaming " bring it on".
Egoist you say, I say ok.
Anyway, since it’s in motion and I am apparently in possession of one blogger ID, I feel the need to comply...
So there are two types of blogs feels I. The ones that “write for self”, the ones that “write for others”...mine was (is) a write for self.....which is why it was all impersonal. “Write for selfs” rarely go into vast monologues about their recent escapades. I mean I just lived them moments a while back and now I should write it in flowery linguistic appeal only to post it on the mean ass WWW. That just stinks of “Write for others”....hence the the poetical, philosophical, non-autobiographical bent of the erstwhile-to-be blog of mine.
Why the perceived need for change?
Its too boring.The fun blogs are the “write for others’. I want to be a fun blog. I shall write my day to day wanderings in flowery ramblings. Q.E.D.
But then that nagging irritating questioner in the background asks, who’s the “others” you write for einstein....the “Others” was just for purpose of distinction dear Watson.
I hate the titles though for every post. If I choose a title before writing the post do I need to structure it to suit the title. Isn't that a trifle constraining. If I choose afterwards, then what title would be best as the post does not comply to one definition. Ah choices!
Come to think of it I lead a decently boring life...a very boring life...I could lie...I’m not good at lying. Maybe I could intersperse a bit of the “write for self” with the “write for others”...a bulb lights up somewhere in the background...a hybrid blog. With new brimming confidence my mind succumbs to the artificial comfort screaming " bring it on".
Egoist you say, I say ok.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
So much depends on the weather
Its a cold november...lets make that a cold dark november...hmmm....actually, why? Enough of the dark poetry and the cynicism. I’m going to make it a bright refreshing March. Why March? Cause there’s this madness everywhere...and then there’s the hope...of better days. April might be a bitch but nobody knows yet. Might be the worst summer ever. But in March who can tell and ignorance my friend is bliss...
Ah, "so much depends on the weather....
so is it raining in your bedroom...."
and then blame wandered in...ah blame, you sweet sister of the eternal twins...there is no space between you and your side, will you wander aimlessly or is there some new world order you’re piercing together.
Look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes.
But seriously, so much depends on the weather. And summers here - that calls for a smiley...don't you think :)
Ah, "so much depends on the weather....
so is it raining in your bedroom...."
and then blame wandered in...ah blame, you sweet sister of the eternal twins...there is no space between you and your side, will you wander aimlessly or is there some new world order you’re piercing together.
Look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes.
But seriously, so much depends on the weather. And summers here - that calls for a smiley...don't you think :)
Monday, May 21, 2007
Different Joy
She grew up in the land of the hearts
Where the trees grow tall
And the leaves don't fall.
She was the apple of everyone's eye,
They all came to sing her lullabies.
The stars they all shone for her
And the rivers they all flowed for her
For when her first tooth fell
They found a treasury under her bed
It was as if the whole world were her pie
And she, the garden's beautiful butterfly
But now her eyes tell a different tale
Of a world broken and stale
No more sleepy lullabies and the rivers have all dried
And when you ask her why
She just throws up her hands and cries
Cries cries cries cries...
And between the empty spaces
Of teardrops and wine
You get to hear it all over again
A tale about heartbreaks and how it ain't fair
How the good one got away
And left her standing still
Alone alone alone...
Then I hold her
Not because she's in pain
But for the disillusionment she won't proclaim
And I tell her with my arms around her
That baby, life's the same for everybody
We all have the same stuff happening
All the same hurts and joys
But we all have different ways of watching it go by
We are all different spectators of our own lives
So what you see pain
If it were to happen to me again
I would just brand it a different joy
Where the trees grow tall
And the leaves don't fall.
She was the apple of everyone's eye,
They all came to sing her lullabies.
The stars they all shone for her
And the rivers they all flowed for her
For when her first tooth fell
They found a treasury under her bed
It was as if the whole world were her pie
And she, the garden's beautiful butterfly
But now her eyes tell a different tale
Of a world broken and stale
No more sleepy lullabies and the rivers have all dried
And when you ask her why
She just throws up her hands and cries
Cries cries cries cries...
And between the empty spaces
Of teardrops and wine
You get to hear it all over again
A tale about heartbreaks and how it ain't fair
How the good one got away
And left her standing still
Alone alone alone...
Then I hold her
Not because she's in pain
But for the disillusionment she won't proclaim
And I tell her with my arms around her
That baby, life's the same for everybody
We all have the same stuff happening
All the same hurts and joys
But we all have different ways of watching it go by
We are all different spectators of our own lives
So what you see pain
If it were to happen to me again
I would just brand it a different joy
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Why would you deem it wrong to forgive?
It wasn’t the perfect setting, but it would do. The greatest rock band of all time was in the middle of their greatest rock act on a London stage - ah but thats all superfluous and secondary information - a tease to tweak your attention a wee bit. I suspect authors have done far worse horrors and I don't even claim a stake at "Authorship".
She’d been to this concert hall before, but it wasn’t like this and she could bet that it never had been. Taking a last gulp from the coke bottle (spiced for ambience) and her brain fizzing with the amphetamine sulphate taken earlier - she roared the words of the song, going to a frenzy and to a place where she could almost forget what he had told her earlier.
Just after they had made love, when he’d gone quiet.
“What’s up baby?” she'd asked.
“Its all fucked” he said.
“Aw come off it now...there’s nothing wrong. Life’s all pretty and beautiful” She'd replied.
Then he turned around, his eyes were moist and he looked like a child.
It was then that her first and only lover told her that he’d been fucking someone else...earlier ....right here....same bed ....the one they shared every night.
It had meant nothing : a mistake - he tried, as the extent of his transgression became apparent in her reaction. He was young and learning about boundaries as he saw his emotional vocabulary extending out in front of him, just a little too slowly.
He had just wanted to tell her - to be straight with her.
It was true - it was a mistake...a bloody human mistake.
Her anger and reaction he understood : his would have been no different. But then she took it too far...all the TV mind washing and magazine women lib stories...she didn’t realise that she had an option to forgive and forget. How could she? He had to be punished....severely ( was there any other kind?). She had to show that two could play at the same game...revenge, revenge, sweet happy revenge. This relationship had no chance and all the mind numbing bullshit that Oprah’s living comes off, came streaming through.
4 years on - she’s had a failed marriage and he won’t open up in his new relationship; after all he doesn’t trust love and its non-understanding non-forgiving ways.
If only she could forgive...but she’s just bloody human.
She’d been to this concert hall before, but it wasn’t like this and she could bet that it never had been. Taking a last gulp from the coke bottle (spiced for ambience) and her brain fizzing with the amphetamine sulphate taken earlier - she roared the words of the song, going to a frenzy and to a place where she could almost forget what he had told her earlier.
Just after they had made love, when he’d gone quiet.
“What’s up baby?” she'd asked.
“Its all fucked” he said.
“Aw come off it now...there’s nothing wrong. Life’s all pretty and beautiful” She'd replied.
Then he turned around, his eyes were moist and he looked like a child.
It was then that her first and only lover told her that he’d been fucking someone else...earlier ....right here....same bed ....the one they shared every night.
It had meant nothing : a mistake - he tried, as the extent of his transgression became apparent in her reaction. He was young and learning about boundaries as he saw his emotional vocabulary extending out in front of him, just a little too slowly.
He had just wanted to tell her - to be straight with her.
It was true - it was a mistake...a bloody human mistake.
Her anger and reaction he understood : his would have been no different. But then she took it too far...all the TV mind washing and magazine women lib stories...she didn’t realise that she had an option to forgive and forget. How could she? He had to be punished....severely ( was there any other kind?). She had to show that two could play at the same game...revenge, revenge, sweet happy revenge. This relationship had no chance and all the mind numbing bullshit that Oprah’s living comes off, came streaming through.
4 years on - she’s had a failed marriage and he won’t open up in his new relationship; after all he doesn’t trust love and its non-understanding non-forgiving ways.
If only she could forgive...but she’s just bloody human.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Things to do while I am alive
- Learn to fly fish somewhere in the Scottish Highlands
- Camp on an uninhabited island
- Spend a week in the backwaters of Kerala
- Drink a margarita on Isla margarita
^ Take a Bar-tending course
- Shoot a hole in one
^ Take parents on a vacation
^ Cruise to the Caribbean
- Run with the bulls in pamplona
- Visit Venice before it drowns
- Attend the Argentine polo championships
^ Gallop on a horse across an open desert
- Win a karaoke concert :)
^ Start a band
- Publish my book of poems
- Bun-gee jump, sky dive and scuba dive
^A Vegas weekend
Since I don't possess the inclination nor the time to figure out this blogger thingy and maketh it jazzier; I shall use the symbol "^" to denote stuff on the list already done - come to think of it "^" does have a jazzy aspect to it...ah whatever!
- Camp on an uninhabited island
- Spend a week in the backwaters of Kerala
- Drink a margarita on Isla margarita
^ Take a Bar-tending course
- Shoot a hole in one
^ Take parents on a vacation
^ Cruise to the Caribbean
- Run with the bulls in pamplona
- Visit Venice before it drowns
- Attend the Argentine polo championships
^ Gallop on a horse across an open desert
- Win a karaoke concert :)
^ Start a band
- Publish my book of poems
- Bun-gee jump, sky dive and scuba dive
^A Vegas weekend
Since I don't possess the inclination nor the time to figure out this blogger thingy and maketh it jazzier; I shall use the symbol "^" to denote stuff on the list already done - come to think of it "^" does have a jazzy aspect to it...ah whatever!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Elvendore
It's been a while now
I can still see the frivolous plot
On it's hinges of brown
Rusted and broken down.
It was I recall
A trip to a place called Elvendore
When we all decided to let it out
Long hair, tattoos, the smoke and the water
The big bikes with neon signs
And the live it free flavour
She was one of us
Torn jeans, nipple rings
And the meanest language you ever did see
It was fun
We were young
We were free.
We carried it off for a year
Or was it two or three
The smoke clouds my memory.
But why did it all grow up?
I'm not sure how
I'm not sure why
Maybe it just drifted away
In a twisted sense with destiny
I met her yesterday
In a place not far away;
But that wasn’t her case.
She called it ‘settling down’
Her hair was long
The tiara sparkled like a song
And the black designer dress...
What made her change?
Why couldn't she have remained the same?
Now she worries without a worry
She’s scared they’ll steal her money
She kept asking me to see her fancy cars
The big bungalow without a scar
The swimming pool by the bar
And how she’s the only millionaire
Within a mile of here
Now I’m back in my world
Of a handful of love and luck
And as I ask the man
Behind the wooden fence
To pour another one of his wonder drinks
A smile creeps to my face
Filled with memories and a broken down faith
Maybe someday
After she’s got what she wants to say
After they’ve stolen all her money and run away
Maybe then we’ll meet in Elvendore
And be free again.
I can still see the frivolous plot
On it's hinges of brown
Rusted and broken down.
It was I recall
A trip to a place called Elvendore
When we all decided to let it out
Long hair, tattoos, the smoke and the water
The big bikes with neon signs
And the live it free flavour
She was one of us
Torn jeans, nipple rings
And the meanest language you ever did see
It was fun
We were young
We were free.
We carried it off for a year
Or was it two or three
The smoke clouds my memory.
But why did it all grow up?
I'm not sure how
I'm not sure why
Maybe it just drifted away
In a twisted sense with destiny
I met her yesterday
In a place not far away;
But that wasn’t her case.
She called it ‘settling down’
Her hair was long
The tiara sparkled like a song
And the black designer dress...
What made her change?
Why couldn't she have remained the same?
Now she worries without a worry
She’s scared they’ll steal her money
She kept asking me to see her fancy cars
The big bungalow without a scar
The swimming pool by the bar
And how she’s the only millionaire
Within a mile of here
Now I’m back in my world
Of a handful of love and luck
And as I ask the man
Behind the wooden fence
To pour another one of his wonder drinks
A smile creeps to my face
Filled with memories and a broken down faith
Maybe someday
After she’s got what she wants to say
After they’ve stolen all her money and run away
Maybe then we’ll meet in Elvendore
And be free again.
Friday, April 6, 2007
Illusions in the stream
And you didn’t do it
No no no no no
And she didn’t want it
Oh no no not at all
It was always all the rage
Fashion had me in a cage
I was justifying all the time
Its easy once you know the rhyme
So it wasn’t meant to be
A phase in the vastness of memory
But what of this love still left inside of me
Where’s this Cupid when you need him most
And now its only an illusion
No no no no no
So you’re still trying to fight it
Oh no no not at all
It was always all the rage
Fashion had me in a cage
Could I open up your heart
Could I maybe break free
It’s a game I can’t play
The rules, they don’t make sense
At least not today
Not when you said no way
No no no no no
And she didn’t want it
Oh no no not at all
It was always all the rage
Fashion had me in a cage
I was justifying all the time
Its easy once you know the rhyme
So it wasn’t meant to be
A phase in the vastness of memory
But what of this love still left inside of me
Where’s this Cupid when you need him most
And now its only an illusion
No no no no no
So you’re still trying to fight it
Oh no no not at all
It was always all the rage
Fashion had me in a cage
Could I open up your heart
Could I maybe break free
It’s a game I can’t play
The rules, they don’t make sense
At least not today
Not when you said no way
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Ladies and Gentlemen....from Westmount, Quebec....i bring to you Leeeoooonard Cohen
"Maybe there's a God above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya"
oh this Leonard Cohen - he gives me the bumps of the goose..the cryptic poetry, the crazy voice....goes way beyond the ordinary, and in case there's some wise ass out there - ordinary's just not good, at least not today!
--- this, coming from a guy who always thought that nobody epitomized the insanely famous "blue light popping roman candle" phrase better than Morrison ( who to be fair it was attributed to after all) - but doubts plague me now...and Leonard baby - if I could will my whole being and deliver a phrase so powerful as to make that Morrison guy be buried under you in the annals of history or what have you....I’d not blink me eye!.
Hallelujah!
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya"
oh this Leonard Cohen - he gives me the bumps of the goose..the cryptic poetry, the crazy voice....goes way beyond the ordinary, and in case there's some wise ass out there - ordinary's just not good, at least not today!
--- this, coming from a guy who always thought that nobody epitomized the insanely famous "blue light popping roman candle" phrase better than Morrison ( who to be fair it was attributed to after all) - but doubts plague me now...and Leonard baby - if I could will my whole being and deliver a phrase so powerful as to make that Morrison guy be buried under you in the annals of history or what have you....I’d not blink me eye!.
Hallelujah!
Friday, March 16, 2007
What Contract?
Where is the contract? You signed it didn't you? Well then, produce the document. Demonstrate the reason why your life is not your own. Once we have been shown the legal paperwork that clearly binds you to a person or situation, we will have more sympathy with you. But if you cannot produce this, we have to ask whether some of your current pain is self-inflicted. Might you be making a sacrifice out of a misplaced sense of guilt?
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Snow Oh Pretty Snow!
WOW! - like an SOS just the opposite.
My first snow... snowfall that is. Snow, its so perfect - all white and pretty. Something about white stuff falling from the sky in soft little installments...makes everything feel alright again!
and sometime between my first step out of the apartment and the slight smile forming on my face, I swear to you, like my own personal sitcom....I could hear the soundtrack go ...
“It just takes some time, little boy you're in the middle of the ride.
Everything (everything) will be just fine,
Everything (everything) will be alright (alright).”
sure I changed the girl to boy in the lyrics....but my own personal sitcom. no?
My first snow... snowfall that is. Snow, its so perfect - all white and pretty. Something about white stuff falling from the sky in soft little installments...makes everything feel alright again!
and sometime between my first step out of the apartment and the slight smile forming on my face, I swear to you, like my own personal sitcom....I could hear the soundtrack go ...
“It just takes some time, little boy you're in the middle of the ride.
Everything (everything) will be just fine,
Everything (everything) will be alright (alright).”
sure I changed the girl to boy in the lyrics....but my own personal sitcom. no?
Thursday, March 8, 2007
History is written by the victor
Two brothers they were. And ruled a vast majestic kingdom, they did. I could use sentences to say they were happy and I could use sentences to justify their reign. You might want to hear of their bravery and tales of their victories. Some other time perhaps - right now I don’t have the inclination nor the desire to elaborate on such detail. Right now I am the one who needs answers from you.
Anyway, digressions aside - as is the case with such instances, the two brothers fought - and as is the case in such circumstances they waged a great and majestic war. To cut a long story short one brother won and the other was banished out of town.
There, I’ve said it all. And thats all there is to it.
But look what you’ve gone and done. Yes you. You Humans. The lot of you.
You’ve created something out of it after all - something called a “religion”. Brother A, the one who won, is now called God and Brother B Satan, the evil breed. And the rest is lost in history - ah I love using your cliches, though I fear they’re going out of common usage and what a waste that would be. So let me bolster the cliche culture a wee bit and use another - the one that I love the most - “ History is written by the victor” - and you dear Humans are living proof of it all.
Let me elaborate on my heresy.
The Victor, yes he wrote your history. Books he wrote my silly believers, books. The Gita, Quran, Bible and what have you...Perhaps it was just a joke from his side. Perhaps like a child he wanted a make believe world in his historical lies. His lies, his books, his version, your history, your God, your Satan.
Two brothers they were.
Anyway, digressions aside - as is the case with such instances, the two brothers fought - and as is the case in such circumstances they waged a great and majestic war. To cut a long story short one brother won and the other was banished out of town.
There, I’ve said it all. And thats all there is to it.
But look what you’ve gone and done. Yes you. You Humans. The lot of you.
You’ve created something out of it after all - something called a “religion”. Brother A, the one who won, is now called God and Brother B Satan, the evil breed. And the rest is lost in history - ah I love using your cliches, though I fear they’re going out of common usage and what a waste that would be. So let me bolster the cliche culture a wee bit and use another - the one that I love the most - “ History is written by the victor” - and you dear Humans are living proof of it all.
Let me elaborate on my heresy.
The Victor, yes he wrote your history. Books he wrote my silly believers, books. The Gita, Quran, Bible and what have you...Perhaps it was just a joke from his side. Perhaps like a child he wanted a make believe world in his historical lies. His lies, his books, his version, your history, your God, your Satan.
Two brothers they were.
Answers
Morality, depravity, idiosyncrasy
Perversion, depression, elation
Can u feel it?
Can u describe it?
Would you care?
Why should you in the first place?
Will you let me know?
Can I be the one you love and trust?
Can I be understood?
Are you gay?
Do you need sometime alone?
Do you think you live?
Do you think you could live?
Do you think you could love?
Or is it just a crazy dream?
But tell me can you feel it?
Is it there somewhere in your brain?
Are you going insane?
Can I put these wires in there?
Does it hurt?
Do you want more money?
Do you want more love?
Do you want less of anything in this world?
Can I take something away from you?
Would you let me?
Do I bug you?
Why don’t you laugh anymore?
Are you a socialist?
Maybe a communist?
Are you a woman hater?
Are you a law abider?
Would you call yourself dead?
Did you ever do anything insane?
Why not?
Can you even hear me?
But tell me can you feel it?
Perversion, depression, elation
Can u feel it?
Can u describe it?
Would you care?
Why should you in the first place?
Will you let me know?
Can I be the one you love and trust?
Can I be understood?
Are you gay?
Do you need sometime alone?
Do you think you live?
Do you think you could live?
Do you think you could love?
Or is it just a crazy dream?
But tell me can you feel it?
Is it there somewhere in your brain?
Are you going insane?
Can I put these wires in there?
Does it hurt?
Do you want more money?
Do you want more love?
Do you want less of anything in this world?
Can I take something away from you?
Would you let me?
Do I bug you?
Why don’t you laugh anymore?
Are you a socialist?
Maybe a communist?
Are you a woman hater?
Are you a law abider?
Would you call yourself dead?
Did you ever do anything insane?
Why not?
Can you even hear me?
But tell me can you feel it?
Secure?
Does Marriage work? Do you wake up with the same sense of happiness and joi de vivre after sleeping with the same person over 10 years into a marriage? Why is it ok to justify it away if you don't? Is the 7 year itch myth or reality? But how do you know...? Won’t the Children put you in a nursing home? Won’t your partner get jaded evermore? But how do you know she’s the one?
Does Love work?.....
It depends she said. It depends.
Each love, each relationship ....ah shut up I said...just shut up.
Does Love work?.....
It depends she said. It depends.
Each love, each relationship ....ah shut up I said...just shut up.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Dry, cold New York
Oh you wrong people. Oh you liars, sacrilegious visigoths, crooks and lovers.. oh you sinful non repentants, thieves, fiefdom harbingers....
On your hallowed shores I now arrive.!
On your hallowed shores I now arrive.!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
-
And here I'd almost given up on February. You'd think that once you'd gone ahead and told the months the roles that they'd p...
-
I never had a traumatic childhood. Well, the usual trauma stuff, you know. Not enough to write a book about or blame everything wrong in my ... -
Been hiding. Firstly there was the birthday recovering. Then there were other birthdays and recovering from them. Then there was random merr...