Eatable Quotes - of words and weapons

Never step into a battlefield with denial as your primary weapon; passive reasons will follow; and reasons dont kill. Survival needs you to either be knowledgeable or a coward or a lucky fool.

for a smile...

Can you paint me a picture,
Will you write me a song?
Crayons lie around me
Red and blue and white.

Shall I make the sky look red for you
And turn the oceans to ice?
Will you smile again in wonder
And shudder in delight?

Gods come forth,
Whisper wisdom in my ears
A summer night
Escalates into the dark,
I transcend into the light.

Thinking on the move - all over again

The process is largely periodic, like a sinusoid. You make yourself a promise that the rain will seep down only enough to dampen the shirt you wear; and not the spirit you hide, protect and cherish. Shuttling between your real life and your corner in your brain, the deviation from that solemn oath grows with each wrinkle the world gives you. Phrases like damage control start making sense and resurrection measures get underway. A lull, a peak, another lull, another peak and the chariot moves on, drawn by horses you can never completely master.

Like a child throwing stones at an apple on the tree, you wish to be focused and steadfast. You wish to be like the madman who is beyond reality and sanity. Like the one who's lost everything, you'd like to shove your fist into the face of the world. All you end up doing is hanging around the centroid of this triangulation.

Not belonging is a challenge and a heroic struggle up there in your corner. Step on the ground and the challenge is a battle for life, respect, money and the struggle is against yourself. Those who venture afar will tell you that the mountains are only as beautiful as the storms were fierce. Thinking too much has never done as much good as thinking enough has. So ask yourselves the right questions and set out on the road once your dues are paid; not a moment to waste, not a shred of doubt and no tears to wet the soil. No violins that play in your ears, but the song you sing will be sweet. A burnt skin wont matter to the righteous if the path you've walked is fair.

Stay strong,
Move along,
It isn't wrong
To not belong.

Thinking on the move - the snap out

The fleet foxes were weaving their magic. Perception and reality never collided so violently ever before. The haze in my mind was begging me to let go. While the me; fettered to the iron pillar protested. "Stay, dont sway, stay, dont sway....." I seemed to chant. What appeared to be a split in the path from a few miles up the road, was drawing ever too close now. The harmonious words in the air fed my inner most desires. I concluded that I was still sane enough for the world when I found myself not being able to see how it could all happen; how it would all come to pass if I did not persevere now. I understood many things at that point of time, and it did not gush in like an epiphany, rather eased itself in, and lounged into my brain, waiting for my attention. The dream I had about an hour ago, did not seem to help. It almost felt like I had seen it all before. The street outside looked too proper with diffused sunlight sprinkling a feel good spirit on portland street. Yet again, I had warded off an attack from the brighter side.

Things will be different from now, I truly believe. I will need to use certain friends who do not frequent my mental cafe and I will need to keep them entertained, but for a short while. Once I get past the rapids, they'll stay on without persuasion. Tori Amos is now the entertainer. She croons to the magic of her own fingers; "Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high...." she sings. Music inspires me and is usually my first and last resort by default these days. But selfishness, in all its disguises is the best motivation a human can ever get. The pain in her voice completes the process and I am left staring at my laptop, no more an object demanding negligence, but a tool that will get me through the next few months, into the dreamed of life.

Eatable Quotes - motivation in motion

I dont lack motivation. But I'd appreciate it if it did not run away every 5 minutes.

Night tune

Kiss the shadows
Of this night so cold
Wrap yourself in a blanket
Of memories and smiles

Hang around in the backyard
Of your far away mind
Pick the flowers u want
And hold them to your heart.

The streets are foretelling
I see the leaves falling
Shimmering with the dreams
We set out to own.
Can you make the leaves
Fall again?
And get these colours to fly,
To fly.

Through it all but,
Still the same old sting.
Heard it all before
And now you want to sing.

You've played your part
I've tried to play mine
What can we ever do if,
There isn't enough time?

The streets are foretelling
I see the leaves falling
Shimmering with the dreams
We set out to own.
Can you make the leaves
Fall again?
And get these colours to fly,
To fly.

Pull me back

This perspective has an effect on me
I dont think that it will let me be.
No you wont get off cheap,
On your way, well on your way, freak.

I've let myself take over me
Zooming into the next level.
I guess you'll know the road is rough,
When the tires start coming off.

Drifting into the place I want to be
These words, they lock my doors.
I see them standing by the highway
Pointing fingers at your excited face.

A hopeful evening stolen well,
To catch a glimpse of that smile
She dances on the edge of the eye
And explodes into the brain.

I know we cant save us both
We'll need her to set us free.
Splash into my song and please
Pull me right into your breeze.

Definitions - time and state

Yesterday - Mostly a photo album with my best and worst pictures and rarely, the battered object of my analytical and philosophical quests. Strangely, I tend to confuse it with tomorrow.

Today - just another page, smeared and blotched with yesterday's ink, another moment to lose myself in.

Tomorrow - a song, a time to celebrate / regret today and yesterday and the days before.

Regret - a feeling of letting someone, but mostly myself down.

Hope - the most misunderstood and cliched word in the history of mankind - yet it seems to serve its purpose.

Determination - a substantial cousin of hope, but bears no kinship to the future.

Happiness - a state of being where all of the above add up to a smile that spreads warmth.

Freedom - the privilege of retaining the smile.

Why cant I

It runs like a movie in my head
Churning frames by the second
Black and white and grainy
Quaking as much as I'm shaken.

I picture the white paths I walk
Devouring the land, I'm smiling
Will it fill the void I'm feeling?
Or is it the illusion thats playing?

Its a question to no one
No one's gonna answer
But still I ask why?
Why cant I?

Its what I have to do?
There's no other way you say?
Listen to yourself and think again
If you've thought enough.

The smallness I feel shatters all
Convention killed, I can float free.
Chasing the gossamer I feel
Like the kid who ran his summer away.

Its a question to no one
No one's gonna answer
But still I ask why?
Why cant I?

Tell me please, Close my eyes
Tell me why, why cant I?
Chant those words of wisdom again
Tell me why, why cant I?

Bunch O' my Brain - Arbit Sunday morning blues

Its not the first time,
I've wanted to sound this strong
Its not the first time
I've felt like I dont belong.

Thinking on the move - cherubic enchantment

An angel flutters by. The corner of your eyes register in a fleeting moment what an hour of visual dissection can never achieve. The mind shuttles between the woe in front and the bliss at your side. You count seconds and iterate through strategies in your head. Defences drop, quicker than a lifeless bird. Hurtling down at max speed, there's only one thing to do. A slow buzz ramps into a steady oscillation, and you employ muscular services even as the amplified drone of the slicing air hits overdrive. You crane your neck unsure of the following moments. A quick sampling of the desired vision and you shoot back into feigned attention at the worthless jargon you were already supposed to know. The feeling of weight returns to replace the void around, by a room full of people; snap! goes the silence and the denizens speak their tongue with the sounds of clattering keys that are getting jabbed at, with all the fury a hungry, sleepy student can muster. Misery reigns your realm for the next few minutes as thoughts of a never to occur future, vex your fruitless present. And then like the coming of knowledge, you realize that you're not alone in this quest for gold; your object of preoccupation is in truth, the cynosure of greedy eyes in this ignoble gathering. " What a fell world?" you muse - a result of the inability to grade yourself and your actions sans the added weight. The scope pans out to the whole room, moves slowly up the stairway, past the unwitting sentry all the way into the pleasant, starry night. The clock reads 20 minutes to midnight and a million to the dreamed-of life. Its a good time to leave confused readers to their abusive taunts thrown spitefully at your crisp narrative. Its the time to take a walk home. Fever Ray whispers soft songs into your ears that remind you of forests and trees and mountains and of long, green walks taken under a pristine, moonlit sky in glad company.