Draped Thoughts

Submission

2012-01-29T23:32:00.000-08:00

I'm often told
There's a way things unfold,
That ruled by creases and lines,
This enchanted journey unwinds.

Neither have I crafted
Nor tried to affect a change
For I dont think I know yet
Of where I'd rather be.

Than right now in this moment
That I'm blessed with,
Right here in this gray limbo
Of duties and of dimensions.

So much to comprehend
Beyond the shadows of every bend
Would that I was gifted enough,
To choose and be chosen.

Lost beyond reasonable doubt,
Intricate bonds fetter my soaring thought.
I'm guilty as charged,
I'm guilty for not giving it my all.

Submission comes easier to me
Than the will to pave my roads.
Moderation resides deep within,
The walls of an extraordinary facade.

I'll forever be a fool I know,
Incapable of making a difference,
Yet, I trudge to bring meaning,
To a life that's not just my own.

Forever in debt,
Forever in doubt,
Fueled by a fickle whim
I'm lost, completely lost.

Let me go.

2011-09-19T01:27:00.000-07:00

There is yet a place which is mine,
For me to float and hide.
Where dark swirls of serenity soothe
The tremors of a foolish mind.

the golden girl

2011-09-09T19:00:00.001-07:00

She haunts like a ghost,
Wanders these halls lost.
Her misty dreamy eyes.
Twinkling like fireflies.

She deals in coins and gold
And snatches my soul.
Nameless, silent and fair,
There's fire in her hair.

No respite, no redemption -
For the time for words is past.
Am I just a coward ?
Or a mere stranger to her ways.

No smoke, no spirit can soothe
This dull burning despair.
Stellar dreams placate
An aching heart tonight.

A momentous lesson

2011-07-31T16:25:00.000-07:00

I wonder who I am to thank
For this gift of deemed normality,
I think of what forces were at play,
And what drove the hands that crafted me.

We barely know the plight of those
Whom nature has rendered incomplete.
We cant do better than to ponder why,
They tend to nod to a different beat.

No doubt they're gifted with a mind that dreams
Of high skies and of happy things
The wind that blows to goad it seems,
While they stay down chained by wooden wings.

Perhaps the early ones that were
They shunned the laws of holy creation.
Only to awaken the great maker's ire -
Souls thus forged from an angry fire.

Perhaps they stay on, in deep despair
As a cruel token of our misdeeds.
To remind us to be grateful and fair,
To be hubmle at heart, to live and let be.

My brain in blank and white

2011-06-20T00:28:00.000-07:00

Head is full with
Storms of uncertainty,
Gripping Vices,
And falling pillars of faith.

I'm headed east
Down a black road,
Into the woods
To find the mountains.

Thinking on the move - Shot at Redemption

2011-05-25T17:15:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while I open the gates to my private hell and let my demons consume me. Chewed up and spit out, I'm usually at the top of yet another saw-tooth peak, post the ordeal. The will to restrain from knowingly harming myself is lacking in me. I guess Billy Joel spoke for a lot of people in saying "I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints". In the long term its a trade off. If I were to put the philosophy of Karma in a nutshell, there is no wrong-doing that will go unpunished and no good deed which is not duly rewarded. What is inherently wrong and right though, is a question that's not easily answered for everyone. From a bird's eye perspective, its pretty simple to define this in a pedantic way. But a pragmatic person may find this view conflicting in many ways.

Lost in such meandering thoughts, I am usually utterly confused and dabble at many passing interests while always trying to search for that one passion that will someday define me. As a dear person once said, "maybe we're all incomplete". Yes, we are incomplete indeed. There is no room for completion in the human world. We're all negotiating an asymptotic locus in search of a culmination that's nowhere in sight. The only difference is how far each one of is and will eventually end up from being consummate, when our time does come.

I already have a definition here, but I'm not too sure if that's what I set out to be. Very few people are meant to become something - the majority become the one thing they work towards. It all comes down to what we know and how well we know it because at the end of the day, knowledge is the true measure of one's potential. The desire to read, observe, practice and learn is ever present in me, but severely lack the drive and desperation to follow this yearning into satisfactory execution. The most gripping fear I hide is that of ending up a dabbler, and in a due time, a quack for the sake of livelihood. With this long due confession I'm at the beginning of yet another attempt at what I believe to be true redemption. We'll see how this goes.

.....

2011-04-30T23:36:00.000-07:00

An exploding heart..beats within..
blood no more, its a river of red.
biding its time,
i'm whiling away mine.

A bleeding brain, sits deranged,
words no more, they're fragments
of stinging pain,
unsettling and overwhelming.

The ruthless clock ticks away,
minutes no more, they're vicious needles,
meant to stitch,
but clawing deeper, a gaping gash.

will you ever know?
will it ever show?
this endearing affliction
you so unwittingly conjured?

Qualms and Complaints

2011-04-27T19:37:00.000-07:00

Swept from pillar to post,
We trudge along like ghosts,
A dollar more perhaps,
But none the richer we get.

----------------------------------------

Information makes me sore,
The grapevine gives some more
Playing along, buying money with time
Playing along, to make it all mine.

----------------------------------------

Where is my heaven now?
Whither do I head?
Can I not just build it here
And regale myself instead?

Bunch o' my brain - Winds.

2011-04-10T23:02:00.000-07:00

They crumble by themselves,
Those walls of caution,
And the winds of carefree love,
Waltz into your brain.

Fettered still, they linger there,
Your sword, all set to kill.
Clanking chains are severed deep
And the mind sways again giddy and free..

To the moon...

2011-02-09T23:33:00.000-08:00

When reality knocks too hard,
And the world scars my skin,
The only words that ever makes sense,
Is the rant my brain conjures.

When insomnia strikes a match,
To burn the night ever so slow,
I tend to colour my blacks
With shades of grey and blue.

It is indeed my escapist friend
Who rescues my cold senses,
When I 'm rendered unconscious
By the fumes of today's toil.

When fair skies fail to lighten
The heavy heart that beats,
What then is left to do?
Where can the lonely go?

When restraint is a shadow,
That wanes with the fading light,
I run to my filthy corner
And hide behind the haze.

When obligations hold me fast
And remind me of my defecit,
I let my words enthrall me,
And propel me to the moon.

Eatable Quotes - Infinity

2011-02-06T21:01:00.000-08:00

Think long enough and digression becomes the norm.

In the name of life..

2011-02-06T02:28:00.000-08:00

The friends we make,
The songs we sing.
All the colours that are
And the flowers that were.

Every coin we own
Every piece of land we dont,
All the stories untold
And the kings and their courts.

For every beetle that buzzed
And all the sciences we learned
For those days of concern
And the bombs that rang.

Every puzzle unsolved
All the bridges that crumbled
Every ounce of determination
And every cowardly act.

Every angry rebuke
All the splashing water
The hordes off laughter
And the murders in vain

All the ties we've made
And the chill of the winds
All the names we've called
And the stars we reach for.

Every word of wisdom
And every cry of pain
All the blood and the strife,
The things we do, in the name of life.

Plea

2011-02-02T23:35:00.000-08:00

I live in the sigh,
Of your free wheeling mind.
And I huddle in the shade
Of your caressing boughs.

Grow me a memory
And make it shine bright.
You cut all my wings
And still, You make me fly.

Its neither my time
Nor is the dime.
You are my song,
My blood and my rhyme.

Take me for what I am
And for what I will be,
Take all my joys cause they,
Are no longer for me.

Let me live in the sights
Of your glistening eyes
And hide from the world
In your warmth and embrace.

Sow me a garden
And let it bloom forth.
Let the winds seek our way
And come drifting to us.

Basic doubts

2011-02-01T00:19:00.000-08:00

Weary and lost -
Eyes bleary and dark.
What's my role here?
Where do I leave my mark?

No sudden reprieve
Or heroic demise.
Just the dull thudding
Of a spineless surmise.

Slipping away
Yes, I'm sliding on down.
Feeding on thought,
Yet eaten within and beyond..

Momentary lapse
Of a life force that wanes.
Only to materialize
As another victim of disdain.

Hopes and images
Flitting by fast.
Envy, my ride;
Faithful alibi, grandiose pride.

Worthless words
In an estranged mind.
Does it really matter
What I earn or who I find?

Crinkled skin and a life later
Where will my thoughts lie?
Will they let me think?
Won't I be free to fly?

Rage

2011-01-28T00:18:00.000-08:00

What were you thinking
When all those days went by?
When it was the time to learn
Your numbers and your rhymes?

Beats me to no end that you could,
While away such precious time,
In trifles and petty games,
In day dreams and the like.

But the time was not yet gone
To rewrite your misspelled ways.
I remember it was still evening when,
You chose to drop out of the race.

You disappoint me with your hollow words,
And anger me with your tainted thoughts.
You surprise me with your brashness,
And disgust me with your mediocrity.

If only there was a way to embark
On the quest for pure knowledge
If only you knew your way out
Of this blindness and mildewed stupor.

If only you'd make up your mind
To set off and be gone.
If only you could be someone else
If only it would come to pass, that you weren't me..

Bunch O' my Brain - resilient

2011-01-26T18:22:00.000-08:00

To break and to mend
Forever defend,
To let it run wild
And then contain.

To swallow your fear
And stand your ground
To drench your spear
And turn it around.

Thinking on the move - creative balance

2011-01-23T10:20:00.000-08:00

There's comfort here in the womb of darkness, penetrated only by the silver strands of music. Reclining gently against a black leather couch, for a rapidly melting hour, I'm at peace. Words and thoughts are all fast asleep in the dimly lit corridors of my brain. No agitation, none of the restlessness - just a tranquil haze, both inside and outside. Still waters, mirroring an equilibrium that effaces on the visage of its bearer, complete with closed eyes - merely the victims of a mind lost in the meandering strains of a Floyd number. A perfect time to let my jail-broken mind take its customary stroll into controlled delusion. Words float around, grope about and bounce off the vacant space upstairs. When enough Brownian motion has come to pass, there's a little verse sitting smugly, lodged in the corner of my brain's dump yard.

To Break and to mend,
Forever defend;
To let it run wild
And then contain.

Meanings and implications can be dealt with later. They're of meager consequence at times of elevated intuitive consciousness. And make no mistake, this state bears no semblance to that which is perceived by the vast majority as being conscious. Far from it, a disjoint free wheeling mind of a momentary renegade is what we're dealing with. Tobacco seems like a paltry price to pay for the trip to this creative haven. I lay back and let the remainder of the night pass by soothingly like a mountain breeze. Music playing the captain, and I the willingly lost sailor we sail on into serene waters, knowing very well that reality is just a mile away, ready to crash down upon us like a fierce storm. But that's ok, as long as I get my weekly dose of detachment from a severely entangled world where involvement amounts to an intertwining of emotional, and material bonds alike.

Thinking on the move - Conditional Acceptance

2010-12-28T12:49:00.000-08:00

You were never meant to cruise - all you have ever managed to do is, trudge and drag your feet. And just when you convince yourself to embrace mediocrity, you get stymied - pushing the bar of desirable achievement even lower. The desire to learn lingers, but the drive to accomplish is dwindling into the grey dusk. Humbled by the weight of this momentary lapse of life-force, you buckle and fall. Vanquished by the onslaught of your own thought, face down in the sand, you wonder if it had been a good idea to have let your mind run free with the ingredients for a full fledged bomb of defiance.

From this point of mental drudgery, you gaze ahead at a plume of smoke, hanging in the air for a wee bit longer than you'd expect, before floating on into the darkening sky. Somewhere beyond the folds of heaven, you hear Morcheeba belting out "Run Honey Run". The world wobbles as you gather your thoughts and yourself. You follow the smoke into the thickets, and then alongside a clinking stream. Further down the road, by the gurgling water and under a tree, a group of merry travelers sit. You're welcome to join them, but camaraderie like almost everything else in the world, comes with a price. Give and take, buy and sell, a barter of souls - the offspring of the oil that keeps the cog - wheels of an extremely complicated world in motion.

Conditional Acceptance - the root of most things human. The inherent curiosity in you compels you to make the trade and seal the deal. It is indeed perfectly safe to do so, as long as you know the ubiquitous truths of this kind of an acceptance. The most important one being the ability to exercise a checked acquiescence to whats being offered. Its like walking into an open bar and settling for a glass of water.

All said and done, your destination never changes. At the end of the day, a quest for knowledge and happiness pretty much sums up the convoluted endeavors you bundle in and out of. Everything else is an incarnation of the same basic impulse. Knowing just this is not enough to sail across smoothly, but its similar to having a magic sail that can move your boat in the middle of a dead ocean bereft of wind, so you may alight upon beautiful shores, be accepted and exercise acceptability.

Thinking on the move - Valley of Life

2010-11-01T13:39:00.000-07:00

At one end of your mental plane is the realm of reclusion, sheltered by a poignant gray sky, dictated by a pervasive notion of pointless existence and the ideology of staying aloof while at the same time playing along to earn acceptability in your clique. Afar, at the other end is a valley - complete with meandering rivers, carpets of lavender and green, reverberating with wondrous cries of vibrantly colored birds. One as inviting as the other to your eyes and mind, you may not be in a position to choose either, and will rather live both lives in regulated quantities. You are your own arbiter and the victim of thine own decisions. But lets talk awhile of the seemingly livelier of the two, of the place in your head that is not bereft of emotion, that which is not eroded by the winds of lethargy and dull reality, of that little corner which yet harbors a desire to fall in line with the rest - to laugh, cry, get hurt and heal.

The valley is crowded, filled with faces and words - it defines your life as a son, a brother, a caring friend or a vengeful foe. It whets your material appetite and at the same time, ties you to some of the most beautiful, enviable moments and emotions you can cherish when the easy chair beckons. This plausibly pleasing, and deceivingly serene haven was supposed to be your first home.

But you saw right through it all, like you always do; riddling the walls with contemplative bullets, you stripped the place bare until the storms and fires were all that you could see. You knew that your kinship, loyalty and love for the near and dear ones was unwavering and would ever remain so. But there were some other strings that got broken strained by the intensity of your relentless thought-driven invasions. A vision gained and the due price paid, you decided to change flanks.

The faraway, gray land is now your home, a grayness that you can color green, or orange or any other color has no name. A place where you can scatter the trinkets you carried with care from the other end - from the valley. As you nurture your notions of a perfect world, you fill in color and character into emptiness, naively smiling at the idea of a prospective glen to coop yourself in, forever. You build mountains all around, tall and majestic, a stronghold to keep out any remnants from the wanton land you left behind; a fortress to fend off any scraps of ego, ire or vanity that may come riding in, on the wings of the cold zephyr. Your job done, you watch in wonder as nature plays its part in beautifying your world. Bustling with life, surrounded by all that you hold dear, its time for you to close your eyes and catch some precious moments of bliss.

Soon it will be the time to wake up, wrap up and leave; the time to append another dimension to your limitless mind, the time indeed to go in search yet again, of a never to be found heaven.

Home calling

2010-10-08T13:40:00.000-07:00

Raindrops, from up above
Pitter, patter they fall
Scatter and go a thousand ways.
Its got me thinking of home again.

I know the light is filtering in
Through the curtains in the hall.
Sunday morning news
Is lying on the floor.
Mama are you in the kitchen,
Hot breakfast on the stove?
Papa's by the porch ,
A cup of Coffee in his hand.

The knot speaks

2010-10-04T13:48:00.000-07:00

The knot speaks
Form deep within my entity.
Dull throbbing
From the depths of insanity.
I hold my head in my hands
To keep my mind from floating,
The grays offer me their warmth
In the black of the night.

I need to,
Fly away
Up there
And feel
Ever So light, so light.

Down there the
Walls are all
Crumbling
Into dust
And you surrender, to the pain.

Thinking on the move - the knot speaks

2010-09-28T23:36:00.000-07:00

The world is big, far too big for my liking. There are too many people around. Like ants they walk, like dogs they bark and snatch from each other and from the world like monkeys. The norm has been written and rewritten, trodden upon and generations have watched unknowingly, the pervasive pointlessness of this temporal sustenance. Dazed by the sheer speed of competition, we follow in the wake of a ship that has borne millions of our species before our time. A select few stand on lonely shores and watch the sails slip into the horizon. While the normal man tch-tches in pity and drinks his soup out of cheap china on the deck of the vessel, the thinkers silently smile and light their pipes. Sitting on warm sand, they welcome the solitude of intellect and the saline freshness of the sea breeze.

Affluence brings with it either a desire to grow trees of gold or a detachment well afforded. The unfortunate ones spend a lifetime trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive shimmer of lifeless diamonds. Like many others, I belong to neither of these factions. Serenaded by the uncertainties and wonders of this limbo, I trudge along willingly - a little lost, and acceptably happy. Amidst all this talk of echelons and thoughts is the knot.

The knot is ever-present, and I've felt it more than ever in the past few days. Its a heavy cube of dark smooth iron with rounded edges and corners - well, not literally, but my imagination has it defined that way. Its a weird state of mind to be in - jerkily pulled away from reality but at the same time being closer to it than I normally am; questions stream in and out of the head without getting answered, followed by the the compelling need to do something different, to be free from the rigour and monotony this life has to offer. All said, I would indeed be fooling myself if I were to truly believe all of my own words. I realize I'm merely ranting, without start or end. But the knot is real, as real as the stark pointlessness of it all and the undying spirit of human fantasies.

Thinking on the move - throb

2010-09-07T23:18:00.000-07:00

Grim frustration grips your being. Aimlessness, your temporal aide. You feel something caged within the confines of your skin. The most dearest of feelings is at the least detestable in this state of suspended commotion. Nothing enthralls, no one matters, music your only resort. Deep breaths to pour out the knot, strand by strand. Coursing through a chaotic passage of faces and familiar surroundings, you zombie your way through those couple of hours. You seek a creative outlet and find yourself lacking in all aspects - a unanimous deficit of motivation and talent ruling your senses. Stark reality stares you in the face leaving behind a fertile silt to sustain an unchecked growth of a deep rooted feeling of insignificance. Point blank frustration. Remedies are few and you choose the best one around. Clinking, clean melody floats in as Opeth takes over. Sad tunes and melancholic words elevate you, beyond the reach of the agents of materialism prowling the lower strata of thought.

Music in all its diversity, never disappoints. No matter what parameters define your current setup, there's always a song you can lean on. There is always a tune to drown in, and forever words to wrap your brain in. If nothing works, there is always the music of nature - Silence; priceless and crystalline in all its pristine delicacy - the sound of silence.

Streak

2010-08-27T03:58:00.000-07:00

I've waited long enough,
There's no help coming.
Gotta help yourselves out,
By swimming in the drain.

If you're dizzy with pain
And you cannot breathe,
You better sooth yourself with
Another hollow promise.

Thinking aloud and running blind,
Spaces to see and questions to find.
Subdued laughter and a silent song.
And the paths keep winding, all along.

The graffiti fades
As the rain beats down.
Upon your window
Thats turning brown.

Gripping fear owns
Your feeble mind.
Coz there's no messiah
To hold your hand.

Thinking aloud and running blind,
Spaces to see and questions to find.
Subdued laughter and a silent song.
And the paths keep winding, all along.

Bunch o' my Brain - Nothing Special

2010-08-20T13:58:00.000-07:00

What am I to make of all these frays?
Nothing ever seems to hold me in its sway.
Counting these tears it makes me feel I am,
Just another shadow on the blinds today.

Of Desires and post BG blues

2010-07-12T10:56:00.001-07:00

The Bhagavad-Gita talks about the concept of redemption from the vicious circle of life, death and rebirth among other things. It preaches many ways to cut away from materialism. Karma Yoga - being the act of performing our duties without expectations of a reward, it says is one way to attain unity with the so-called eternal truth - the Brahman. The ideology of an all pervading, everlasting Brahman aims to focus all the energy of a person into attaining this union.

I remember my father asking a question to an ascetic at Iskon once. He asked, "Why am I here?". I was a school going kid back then and did not seem to understand the question. Now I find myself asking the same kind of questions, perhaps a little too early in my life. Desire for money and comfort is a common factor that will dictate most of our actions. The problem arises when it becomes the only factor driving our wheels. A little thinking can make one realize that the quest for money and happiness is never ending if we do not decide to live in and partly for the moment. Dreams are good, but it is absolutely necessary to hold them in check so we do not miss out on the tangible present, daydreaming about a wispy, yet to arrive future.

There are some very important points to be taken away from a reading of the Gita. The difference between renunciation and non - attachment, the concept of action without expectation, tolerance towards people and tranquility of emotions are only some that I can list. But I do not agree with the concept of total material aversion. Materialism is needed in controlled doses in order to be acceptable in the world and in turn to accept yourself. As long as we keep in mind that the money we set out to earn should forever be the means to an end and not the end itself, we will do fine. The Gita talks of an ideal Yogi as a person who is unmoved by just about anything. What then, is the point of living? How are we supposed to make sense by driving ourselves with devotion towards a far-fetched notion of a supreme being? How will anyone be at peace by disregarding the tangibility of a loved one's feelings and aiming for a so called higher union? Towards the end of the book, I am left with an almost conceited image of God with its endless attributions of anything and everything to the Brahman.

Based on this particular interpretation, to me, the Bhagavad-Gita is a mixed bag. I'll accept the goodies and Lord Krishna can keep the rest. The good part about the Gita is its possible detachment form religion, when treated strictly as a moral/spiritual thesis. Especially for people like me who do not encourage a substantial belief in the conventional God, although I would'nt go as far to call myself an atheist; everyone has his/her own God. This reading does not have me leaning either way from my current stance, but is helpful in tweaking a few spiritual screws in the contemplative realms of my system.

Take over me

2010-07-02T02:41:00.000-07:00

They said that they've been watching
This road for long.
They say that its been always,
Winding along.

They said - Son get yourself ready
To get your feet dirty
It drips like dew - its bitter,
Bitter bitter, bitter - feeling.

Fill my mind,
Make me blind,
Overflow.

Burn yourself
Into me
Take over me.

The sun's out gleaming,
Searing you
Drape yourself in shade, all u will
But you will get scorched.

How now? how far? how many steps,
To the meadow?
How do I cure this bitter,
Bitter, bitter, bitter - feeling?

Fill my mind,
Make me blind,
Overflow.

Burn yourself
Into me
Take over me.

Blunting the Blade

2010-06-20T13:38:00.000-07:00

My wishes abound
But my plate is empty still.
There's peace to be found
Over the hill.

My strings are all strained
With worldly tunes.
The drapes are all stained
With mystic runes.

If you don't
Find me midst yourself,
If you care enough to see,
You'll find me gazing,
Searching the sky,
Blunting the blade.

Bunch O' my Brain - Pointless

2010-06-10T00:42:00.000-07:00

The knot is back, it feeds on peace.
Not in my heart, not in my mind.
Nowhere and everywhere at the same time,
It feeds on purpose, and discredits life.

Justice, delivered.

2010-06-06T15:49:00.000-07:00

I will sit right under your wings and
I will peep out every other day.
To see what's become of my world,
To see the fires burning.
They will face my wrath and drown in vain
When I cry my burning tears of pain.
Let the mountains crumble when its dawn
And the morning will play my serenade.

My name's seared in their memories
And they cry to me when in pain.
But I will rain hail upon them and
Watch them cry out louder still.
For the filth that they have brewed inside
Makes me look away in hate.
The time to put an end to it all
Its time they faced their final fall.

Hear the message ringing on the wind
When I call to them in a violent way.
The colours melt before my eyes
And they gape at floating oceans of grey.
The dream I wrought breaks below me
As the hand mars that which it had made.
The light fades from the horizon
And the orb fails into darkness.

Thinking on the move - reversion into reclusion

2010-06-02T21:18:00.000-07:00

The last time these wheels were in motion, you were on a quest; a quest for simple joy. Myriad thoughts about the world and your significance in the scheme of bigger things were top most in your stack. Your raw understanding of the fundamentals of reclusion brewed a withdrawal beyond materialistic aversion - a consequence of chewing your mental gum for too long, and too fast. Sliding down an acute slope, you felt the world slip away. The Shylock inside you demanded his pound of flesh, not ready to be a victim of the others that made your being. You obliged, with a sincerity that you dared not meddle with. The path into normality was suddenly in front of you. Tugging at the rope, you felt human. Supporting and being supported at the same time, a semblance of emotion seeped in. New waters, unknown landscapes splashed onto your canvas. At first, there were colours, bright and beautiful. Then there were shades of grey. Like the onset of fuzzy logic into a binary system, your mind revolted. Change was evident and imminent - it was you against your mind all over again. The greys of the mind and the greys in the heart collided. A flurry of smoke ensued, leaving your mind victorious.

What started out as a process of redemption, has now left you more aware of yourself. Shylock is now dead. A cold mercenary resides in his stead. His sword weighs you down; the ground is sloping yet again, steeper into reclusion, deeper into void. Your mind plays captain again, steering an empty vessel now, which yearns for the open seas, and lonely serenity.

Too Cold

2010-06-01T14:34:00.001-07:00

I sever these strings
With pain in my eyes
The sun goes down today
With a hue of sadness.

There's not much to say
But these words will stay
True to my self and
Shielding my faith.

I'm too cold for you,
I'm a winter thats white.
You're the summer that shines
And cries sometimes too.

The winds in my courtyard
Freeze the frost I own.
It blinds all my sorrow
And gets me through.

The nights seemed so short
When we walked, and we talked.
The days stretched its wings
When my mind rebelled.

I'm afraid of this change
That leads me away
From the space I hold dear
And the paths I have known.

Forgive my intrusion
But I meant it well.
We will find our peace,
And our laughter, my friend.

Baby eyes

2010-05-25T14:25:00.000-07:00

Deep as the ocean
Dark as a stormy night
How they glimmer,
With unearthly wonder
Baby eyes.

Reflections of joy,
A watery innocence
Divinity in a pompous hell
Grandeur on a stark street,
Baby eyes.

Insatiable curiosity,
In every nook
What do you see?
Where do you look?
Baby eyes.

In a minute

2010-05-24T16:40:00.000-07:00

So many years
Since I've known you
So many days
I've grown into you

Sanity is again
What you make of your world
The rules you make
Will in the end rule you

You're me
You're you
You're floating
You're through
You're thinking
What to do

Shell bound, you're drifting,
In your mind, safe and sound.

A smile in
Everything else out
No fetters here
To tie your spirit down

The world that watches
Your every careless move
You choose not to see
The eye that sees you.

You're me
You're you
You're floating
You're through
You're thinking
What to do

Shell bound, you're drifting,
In your mind, safe and sound.

Bunch O' my Brain - me

2010-05-24T13:32:00.000-07:00

The bees dont sting here,
In my corner of deliverance
There's light inside my box
I'm shell bound, safe and sound.

Bunch o' my Brain - a cold rhyme

2010-05-06T09:32:00.001-07:00

The gift of the ballad,
And of stories untold,
I'm just a cold salad
Served dry, eaten cold.

Mask

2010-05-04T12:20:00.000-07:00

Like the first rays of sunshine
And the unfurling wings
The blossom of a flower
And songs that I could sing
Like the scent in the breeze
Remind you of the good old days
Like the joy to be found
Wherever I be bound

Standing and waiting to see
What you’ve got to show me
Hope to be right here
Pray that you don’t disappear

Show me who you are
Behind that forgiving mask
Show me that you care
Is all that I will ever ask
Rid me of this plight
As I gaze upon this sight
Rid me of this plight
As I gaze upon your sight

Standing and waiting to see
What you’ve got to show me
Hope to be right here
Pray that you don’t disappear

5 seconds

2010-05-03T02:34:00.000-07:00

Lights off,
The screen is white
It shoots at me, a blank stare
On from the wooden chair.

Testament in my ears
The wall feels like stone
I revel in the dark
The music leaves its mark.

Feel nothing
Except the cool breeze
Sneaking in quiet,
To quell my cerebral riot.

The world of worries
Is dwindling in the distance
Damp with a cold shiver,
The lights there, dont glimmer.

The solace of a cold nothing,
The gift of a shut out.
The mind runs no errands -
My precious 5 seconds.

Drivel

2010-04-24T18:42:00.000-07:00

The ship of blues is sailing
With seeds of love in your brain
The song kills the silence
And you let it blow you away

Sound of hooves in the distance
Fills a misty hazy morning
Vision's not a forte
When the mind is drifting away.

Chisel the ice before I freeze,
Neath' the tall swinging trees
Splash into my song and please
Pull me right into your breeze.

My fettered wishes abound
But the plate is empty still
The will to conquer it all
But the fear of losing speaks

Furrows on your forehead
From walking the thin long rope
But grains of wisdom on the ground
Will foster a garden of hope

Chisel the ice before I freeze,
Neath' the tall swinging trees
Splash into my song and please
Pull me right into your breeze.

Thinking on the move - weekend musings

2010-04-13T22:11:00.000-07:00

Amazing things can happen - only if you allow them to. Letting go might be the most difficult thing to do when uncertain, but the mystery it brings along is worth the effort. Its like watching a gift unwrap itself slowly and not unlike a song you hear for the first time. A minute into the maze and you're hooked - the richness of sound, depth of voice and intensity of the words somebody so carefully chose, weaving in and out of your porous mind.

You choose not to believe in these fairy tales until they catch you unawares and hold you deep in sway. Once struck, priorities change in a fleeting second and leave you wondering if resolve was ever a friend of yours. For now, let the ticking clock fall and get lost in the obscurity of deliberate oblivion. For now, let the strings of concern be severed. For now, go unshod, skipping light in the streets of a breezy dawn. Go there, where dignity is a commodity you will not need to buy at the expense of joy. Seek out that one plank you'd like clinging onto, for now, if not for life.

I've seen sad eyes and heard their stories spoken silently without the bearer's consent, in the middle of the night. I've learned that a chuckle to hide the yearning is no good when your whole being screams out loud. Its time you realized that its hard to dream of happiness when you're playing a constant blame game against yourself. Wont you be contradicting life, with notions of self imposed melancholy when being happy is the whole point of existence? If these words sound completely new to you, then its time for a pivotal change in your mental alignment.

If the harsh ground realities are the only things that make sense to you, you've never heard of Carl Sagan or his ideology of the Pale Blue Dot. If a song has never made you feel like crying, you've never heard High Hopes by the forefathers of psyche rock. The joys of spacing out cannot be experienced when you're crawling on your knees. Stand up and promise yourself the gift of happiness, every single day of your life.

Bunch o' my brain - spilt milk

2010-04-07T21:54:00.000-07:00

The days burn like paper
Dipped in yellow oil.
Ashes on my feet fall,
Searing slowly like regret.

Eatable Quotes - too many

2010-04-03T21:02:00.000-07:00

With more that 7 billion of us around, we are all at a point in time where everything can be attributed (blamed?) to the incredible diversity and an unnecessary abundance of humans.

Bunch o' my Brain - bitter

2010-04-03T13:57:00.000-07:00

Just another bit in the buffer
To make the code longer.
Another person to change
An already changing world.

Dawning

2010-04-01T01:26:00.000-07:00

Strewn on the canvas
He hides,
Is a bright smile,
He desires.

Silencing his pride
He tries,
And solicits attention
On the sly.

A Fledgling at the game
He strays
But keeps at it,
All the same.

Messages go unanswered
Yet again,
Only a matter of time fore'
He despairs.

The angry artist cries
And brandishes his graphic sword.
Every slash, splash and drop
Meant to mar, dealt to scar.

Try as he might for ever long
His strokes cannot destroy
That which he in his dreams wrought
That of which his eyes bespoke.

A knowing, tired sigh he sighs
With a wry smile of knowledge
Of the foolishness of his cries
And the vanity of a lover's rage.

A shattered dream invariably spills
Many more fragments of pain,
Than those splendid little thrills
We stitch together in our brain.

Its all a question of seasoned taste
Where no science can steer a ship
That sails by with enamored haste
Driven on by a desire's whip.

Eatable Quotes - of words and weapons

2010-03-30T17:54:00.000-07:00

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...

2010-03-27T11:55:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-24T19:41:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-21T16:42:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-20T03:43:00.000-07:00

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

Night tune

2010-03-19T19:27:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-14T21:58:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-12T10:17:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-10T21:44:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-07T08:42:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-03T23:03:00.000-08:00

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.

Companions

2010-02-28T20:26:00.000-08:00

ECHOES - the teacher

MELODY - the mermaid

EPIPHANY - the temptress

Thinking on the move - the second chance

2010-02-26T17:40:00.001-08:00

You stand at the signal, waiting for those aberrant junctions inside the panels to respond to a timer that sends a stream of electrons to interrupt the controller. Out in the material world, two dozen people look at you and half a dozen, evanescent opinions are born. It takes 25 feet and a couple of gazes to get you across. It takes less than 20 seconds but a lifetime of feint to paste a smile on your face that reflects a non - existent, hollow culture. Generalization might be a blunder in a world with over 7 billion people, but I'll take the chance. And amidst all the chaos walks a free soul - oblivious, obvious and calm. You look at her and wonder what's beneath her feet; why the cacophony of a steel world fails to draw her attention. Unperturbed, measured footsteps resound in vacuum, obfuscating your know-how of your fellow humans. A swift journey down the echelons of her mind shows a smooth walled tunnel. Concealed beneath, furious, scorching fluids squirm through the plumbing. Fiendishly intricate wiring inside seems to be the reason for an out-of-the-box sense of dressing she flaunts. Jumping out, the macro world greets you with a cold stare. What you see next is the very antithesis of your latest peek. Coarsely open, the ghost of a redneck approaches, emanating an air of a cruel neighborhood that is wont to challenging a person's survival. You can almost feel the desperation that led to his lowly act of thievery last night. Its probably a cheap drug that he won off his homies from the last bet, that rules his senses right now. And its probably the shoes of his last poorer-by-a-life victim that he wears. What does that mean to you? How has it changed your day? How will it change your life?A butterfly effect perhaps? Or was it just the melange speaking? Can it be possible that you just processed a set of unverified, probably wrong details that will not have a bearing on anyone within five hops of your social brigade?

Who knows,
Why care,
As long as the light lasts
Stand and stare.

Drink in,
Cast out
As long as you live,
You have your shout.

What I want to know is...

2010-02-25T19:33:00.001-08:00

I happened to be thinking (yes, I possess the ability) how my life would have been different if I had chosen a career path that's not Electrical / Electronics engineering. It was then that I realized that I wanted to know about a lot of things. So I listed down all the things that I'd like to study. (I'm not adding "in the future" as it adds an element of cliche to it, and people, including me tend to add cliche to cliche by saying stuff like, its not gonna happen if it's not happening right away. So lets not worry about a time frame and for my sake assume, that I will indeed find the time)

1) Music - evolution and composition.
2) Computer Science - to win the war against coding.
3) Mathematics - always a troublesome area for me, but I like to get my hands dirty.
4) Literature - short stories / poetry.
5) Film making - Script writing, direction and cinematography.
6) Theology - just to find out why so many people are drawn to religion.
7) Philosophy - I'm capable of thinking about such stuff for hours together.

That is pretty much it. Electrical Engineering will always be with me. Its not the eternal love of my life, but I like it enough to always keep it in my sack.

Bunch o' my Brain - Knot

2010-02-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

Uneasy lies my head,
I'm counting minutes.
Desires all lie dead,
I'm feeling careless.

Thinking on the move - the beginning

2010-02-22T05:01:00.000-08:00

Beneath your calm facade is a gushing cascade. The delicate fibers of social etiquette try without success, to quell the screaming vulnerability you harbour. Why is it that you cant seem to resist peering into tinted windows, a mere five minutes after your tryst with a mirror? And why do you limit that look to a passing glance, when a good stare is in order? What keeps your shutter closed my dear, do you fear the sting of the wind? Or is it the dogs that snarl at every scent they cant place? Is multicasting as exciting to you as the overture in that song you adore? Is your need to shut out the world justified when you can surfeit your ears with music? Are you frequented by a vision of a softly lit room with tingling, warm carpets and tasteful trinkets? How many times have you felt like shouting and refrained? Is your style a result of a closed loop with every stranger you happen to be stimulated by? Where is that originality the world needs? Are you a sponge that soaks itself with the drifting moisture in the air? Has it dawned upon you yet that you're either a true source or a victimized sink? Living with questions is only as easy as faking an answer. A green apple stands out because it did not color itslef red influenced by the rest in the basket. Has slowing down ever been a priority? You need to be different or you need to be good; if you'd rather play safe, be both. Contrary to popular belief, freedom comes from within. Did that phrase sound good even if you did not understand every word? Have you had moments when making sense seemed unnecessary? Have you ever experienced the joy of that one face or voice that fills up a void? Have you ever felt that competition is more a waste of natural ability than an agent of skill enhancement? Think about it, anything can be important and everything can be trivial - but choice is a tricky friend we all need to handle and solicit help from, very carefully; sometimes having none is an option we'd like to have. Again, it's a question of perception, dictated by thought and taste.

So many questions, a few inferences and some tests of taste. Going on would be easy, but its a pain to satisfy the need for accurate representation of abstract visions. The same visions that I intend will spring up, if your eyes see what mine do.

Saffron Skies

2010-02-20T09:20:00.000-08:00

I'll tell you all my stories,
Sad and clear.
Its time for purgation
Time to let go free
Trees,
swinging trees.
Take me away yonder,
With the floating breeze

Symphonies that play outside these walls
Un-trouble my weary eyes
Lay yourself down to sleep
Down on warm green grass
Cover your cold body with
Saffron Skies.

Kill these gray boundaries
Just wait and stare
In wonder, at the heaven
Stretches of joy,
Dont pinch me awake
The mist is yet to come.
Loath to take the long path
Back into the city.

Symphonies that play outside these walls
Un-trouble my weary eyes
Lay yourself down to sleep
Down on warm green grass
Cover your cold body with
Saffron Skies.

Pocket full of stones

2010-02-18T20:41:00.000-08:00

Fell is the curse of the green leaf
That buys you and gets bought.
Count them slowly all you want
No slower it seems to run out.

You hopped all day and sang all night
And stole an afternoon nap.
The world looked smaller to your eyes,
When the evening had come by.

Dont you think you're dreaming
Sooner than you are allowed?
Where'd you think you're going
With your pocket full of stones?

Somber, concise and diligent,
They cruised by, through them all.
Past all the mighty mountains,
That held you back afar.

Toil and trudge, that you will
But theres always more to climb.
You chose to burden the beaten path
So, heavy your footsteps fall.

Dont you think you're dreaming
Sooner than you are allowed?
Where'd you think you're going
With your pocket full of stones?

Gilded skies lead you on,
And promise to take you there.
Where the sunshine filters soft and warm,
To tickle those dancing strings.

Off you go, down the road
Sweating, trudging, till you drop.
Brace yourself for you chose to share
Of all things, the dreamer's plight.

Dont you think you're dreaming
Sooner than you are allowed?
Where'd you think you're going
With your pocket full of stones?

Ten days

2010-02-14T00:22:00.000-08:00

Bang in the centre of my head
It stays all the time.
Drinking all these worldly treasures in.
Claws at my deepest fears and,
Stirs up a storm.

Wield your cunning powers
Another day
Let me go and let me
Have my day.

The wait for the horses lasted
Ten full days
Days of apprehension and a little pain.
But the story now plays inside
The warmth of this wood.

Wield your cunning powers
Another day
Let me go and let me
Have my day.

Chime time

2010-02-12T17:38:00.001-08:00

A distant breeze, once carried to me
A priceless gift on its crystal wings,
The light grew weary all around
As dusk drifted into the winter sky.

Ever so lightly, it crept inside
The vision of a high priest in prayer
As somewhere afar on a river bank
He joins his palms to salute the sun.

The magic contained, in a mere chime,
Set me adrift in an ocean of mist
Where the devil inside the water did sound,
The rover's knell with the Inchcape bell.

It took me away to the tall, cold halls
Of an ancient Chapel in the streets of Rome
Where the walls quivered in obeisance
To the mighty clangor of a holy peal.

A ding, a dong, a chime and a clang
Myriad pictures in an instant sprang
And silenced the demons in my brain,
For a splendid second, if not for life.

Bunch o' my brain - What goes a O comes a O

2010-02-11T14:44:00.000-08:00

The circle's coming at you my friend
To give you what you gave me.
Its coming around to show you
All the places I have been.

"Bunch o' my Brain - Sensible" - the centurion \m/

2010-02-07T15:53:00.000-08:00

You're not mad, I'm not sane
Thinking is such a pain.
I'll yield and tell you if I must.
In nonsense we trust.

Also, this happens to be the 100th post on this cheap imitation of my pessimism, projected onto an optimistic plane of mind, by my alter ego. Drafted by the whirlwinds in my brain, my dialogue with myself and no one in particular, tends to range from poetic prose to prosaic poetry, encompasses the physical and questions the metaphysical, indulges few and bores many, enlightens no one but refracts me (reflection is pretty much impossible I've learned) plausibly well, if not accurately. I'd like to thank anyone who's been kind (and patient/crazy/patient(the other one)/mad/intellectually gifted/parenthetically tolerant/tangentially eccentric/admirably athletic/patient(see what i mean?)/critically critical/ killer rajan) enough to go through all or any of my musings. Here's hoping for a quick double century!

Hocus Pocus gilli gilli boom.

My bliss

2010-02-07T09:58:00.001-08:00

With nimble fingers,
You cradled my dreams.
Held me captive,
With a heavenly gaze.
Fresh like the morning breeze,
You helped me off my knees.
When I'm tired of walking,
I long to see you again.

Soothing Rain, make me yours.
Wash over me, Like a song.
Caress me, make me strong.
Warm sunshine, you are my bliss.

I like the feel
Of your hands upon my head.
You'd carry me
If I asked you, in the night.
My hero, for ever long
My god, if there ever was.
When I'm tired and hungry,
I long to be with you.

Soothing Rain, make me yours.
Wash over me, Like a song.
Caress me, make me strong.
Warm sunshine, you are my bliss.

Soothing Rain, make me yours.
Wash over me, Like a song.
Caress me, make me strong.
Warm sunshine, you are my bliss.

An outlet

2010-02-04T18:17:00.000-08:00

Hmmm... I just got done with a meeting with a couple of professors. Nothing special - just a weekly routine, yeah; just my weekly dose of "I'm a dumb***k".

"AAAAAARGHHH~!%^%^&!!!" is all I'm afraid I'm allowed to put in here. A lot of censor worthy expressions with lots more of the weird-ass symbols, would fall short of doing justice to what i feel right now. Trust me! its not even funny, how much I feel like knocking myself out cold with a frying pan. I'd christen myself Einstein if I understood 5% of what these guys talk. Frikking over achievers, always standing round the corner sporting a "my day's as good as yours sucked!" smile. Oh! lord, I seek swift deliverance.

In retrospect, I always wanted to be the guy who could play the guitar AND understand Maxwell's equations. I can now, in fact play a bit of guitar and as for Maxwell - I appreciate his ability to smoke up and write fiendishly complicated stuff, but now he can lie back, count his blessings and while he's at it, get himself a fine unearthly tan from the infernal heat in hell. How the hell am I supposed to believe that I was created by the same God, who also created Guiseppe Caire? Its during times like these that I fail to acknowledge the existence of an entity worthy of being called God. I'd love to be a really clever person, and I'm even willing to work hard for it, but hell no! This is Graduate School son! you also need some of that "u have it or you dont" stuff (WHAT!! Lycra?). Have it or dont, I dont care - I've always believed that just hard work IS in fact enough. Hopefully it will stand me in good stead. But for now, I'm pretty much done prattling.

Ghosts of penitence

2010-02-03T13:33:00.000-08:00

The Silent night speaks again,
Through the black holes in her eyes.
Questions and Answers
Are exchanged.

Mary Jane she reminisced,
Used to be her friend
Now the fumes of hope have all been
Put away.

She let go of all the strings
And walked into the sunset with the breeze
But she's seen all the time, wandering
Singing songs of pain.

He lies down on his countenance
Ashamed to see the eye.
The faces of his friends are still
Awake.

He sees the blood still dripping down
From the wounds he helped make.
The knife sticks from the backs of those
Betrayed.

The stares he felt were colder than the ice
He shriveled up and curled into a cave
But he's seen all the time, suffering
Singing songs of pain.

Tonight the ghosts of penitence are prowling
Tonight they stand for all to see
But they're here all the time, preaching
singing songs of pain.

No Excuses - Alice In Chains

2010-02-01T06:08:00.000-08:00

I usually put up only the posts that I write, but this one is a gem. A really well written song, and the execution is up there with the greats. In all its simplicity, strength, completeness and melody - AIC, ladies and gentlemen.

It's alright
There comes a time
Got no patience
To search for peace of mind

Laying' low
Want to take it slow
No more hiding
Or disguising truths I've sold

Everyday
Something hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses that I know

It's okay
Had a bad day
Hands are bruised from
Breaking rocks all day

Drained and blue
I bleed for you
You think it's funny
Well you're drowning in it too

Everyday
Something hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses that I know

Yeah, it's fine
We'll walk down the line
Leave our rain
A cold trade for warm sunshine

You're my friend
I will defend
And if we change
Well I love you anyway

Everyday
Something hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses that I know

Nonsense and some AIC

2010-01-31T18:06:00.000-08:00

The distance between an honest feeling and its expression is several miles. For some, it takes an instant to travel and others might grow old trying to. Such is the complexity of human emotions, that a shot at disentanglement will more often than not lead to a much severe intricacy. It takes a courageous mind to break the strings and have a go straight at the core, and its no wonder that so few of us tend to do it.

Why is our system so fuzzy, when it could have been so much more easier for it to be a discrete implementation of likes and dislikes? Why cant happiness be a boolean expression, with a binary result? Beats me to no end, that it takes a bucket full of apprehensions and months of thinking to convey a feeling. It also amazes me as to how easily we are able to build so many mental membranes of abstraction, and further more are able to reform them, owing to the smallest of stimuli. Leads me to believe that emulating/replicating a human mind is pretty much not going to end in satisfactory results even a thousand years from now.

As an engineer, I tend to think of trade-offs in every possible theory/application that I come across. I have indeed come to believe that what we deem an unnecessary complication of abstract feelings is in fact a trade-off with our ability to find joy in simple and inexplicable ways. Its all a very intricate, sometimes weak, sometimes strong mental structure that we build for ourselves in our lifetimes. The whole deal with expectations, desires, emotions and ethereal visions of happiness is best left to itself. Delving into their dynamics would be a waste of time, when we can lie back and enjoy what they have to offer. There will be the darker side to all these elements too and they will exist in the same intensity that we'd like the lighter/happier side to be. But then again, we'd never know warmth if not for the chill. So lighten up, put on some music and be regaled by the sights, sounds and the wispy prods of human emotions.

Oh, and in case you're in mood for some Alice In Chains, here's a good one.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r80HF68KM8g \m/
I'd recommend headphones and an ear for lyrics.

Eatable Quotes - aunts

2010-01-30T10:18:00.000-08:00

Aunts are not like potatoes.

Bunch O' my Brain - Rage against the Machinery

2010-01-28T23:18:00.000-08:00

Curse you cowardice,
You reside within.
Curse you wounded fate
Bleedin' irony all over my life.

Writeup about not yet writtenups.

2010-01-23T22:57:00.000-08:00

yeah... i like the title too.

My mind has lately been in a very writer/movie friendly mode. Even the simplest of things transpiring around me play like a movie clip and lines form themselves in subtly sarcastic and mildly complex ways. I therefore seem to have a lot to write about even though there's not much interesting going on. So I deemed it appropriate to wrap it all up in a single post and get off easily. So here I go, guiding my varied streams of cerebral energy into one gushing confluence.

1) Farewells! Yes, the goodbyes, sayonaras, the ciao's and cya's. I desperately need to write something about my inability to execute presentably, my farewells. I always seem to think that I'm one goodbye too short and hence tend to reiterate my tata's and birla's. Soliloquy is a common ally during farewells and there are several things I'm telling myself and several more that I am not listening to, me telling me (please dont count; I swear I'm not self centered) .

2) The aeroplane. Apart form topping my "most boring ways to travel" list, it also features on "I'm sorry, I need to gape at this!!" list too. Its really amazing to think how these heavy beasts carrying thousands of kilos manage to get airborne and get back on the ground safely at mind blowing speeds. The only incentive to squirm into a window seat in an airplane is the view outside, be it a thin black freeway needling its way through snow clad landscapes with the horizon gobbling up a crimson sun, or it could be the sight of a well planned city with right angle roads sitting smugly, flanked by mountains, OR, it could be a first hand view of the intricate mechanical engineering in action on the wings, during landing and take off. In-flight entertainment and frequent meals are the only way to strangle the clock and you could also make good use of time by not sleeping a wink, like me.

3) My trip down the dreaded road of "order in life". I am by nature not very organized. I am clean, but cluttered and somewhat inefficient owing to the pervasive influence of disorder in my life. So I valiantly decided that this semester will be a struggle to achieve order and ward off the demons of anarchy. The past 3 days have been as proper as an English tea table. I've been sleeping at 12 and waking up between 6 and 7, making organized lists of things to be done and executing about 70 percent of these tasks (which is up there based on my procrastination dominated history). I also manage to eat at the right times and have reorganized my closet space. Enough said. I'm on my way to orderliness and hopefully will get there in the months to come. Bon Voyage.. wait! am I supposed to be saying that?

4) The part where I declared a vendetta against all fat gujaratis who have an inclination towards kicking the WBC's out of my calf muscles. This one is the most recent; fresh out of the farm. Soccer happened about 3 hours back and so did the flying kick that sent me spiraling into the depths of limb centric agony. And to think I even helped that son of a gun stand up after he had executed successfully, the operation code-named "make Harsha limp for a week". I had a brief vision in slow-motion, of Diaby delivering a jaw crunching blow to John Terry's well positioned head, before I felt the full force of dhokla - power just under my right calf. I will limp all of the 3 steps to my bed after I'm done publishing this post; I walk away a humble soul, forever afraid of fat gujaratis and their unwarranted desires, mostly revolving around the inviting prospect of temporarily maiming a perfectly good limb.

Adios.

19th, the morning.

2010-01-18T19:40:00.001-08:00

I leave thee with fond memories and I vow to return ere the winter drapes thy streets again...fare thee well, Bangalore.

Must have's - bengaluru 2 wheeler riders

2010-01-12T11:30:00.000-08:00

1) A heightened sense of competition.
2) A deep rooted mistrust for every pedestrian, cow, rider, driver, dog on the road/footpath/divider.
3) A fully functional horn (a scratchy drone with an itchy contact won't do... live loud or die trying)
4) An ability to memorize and effectively implement the mantra " Butt in and Cut in".
5) Brake only to avoid a life threatening collision or to let a chick (hen magalu) cross the road.
6) An ability to use creatively, kannada swear words (ask Mr. HD Deve Gowda for free tips) in order to victimize / defend.
7) A license or a lack of moral/social conscience.
8) A deep understanding of the following wise lines:
a) Rules are nothing more than conventions.
b) There are no conventions.
9) Respect for potholes.
10) Strong belief in - "There are no non-free lefts"

On a more serious note - Learn to believe that Helmets save more lifes when strategically placed on the head, than aesthetically around your wrist/handlebar/on the petrol tank.

Christmas Fog

2010-01-10T09:09:00.001-08:00

There's a voice inside my head
It speaks of the road ahead
Of the black clouds I might see
And of the pain that I might feel

There's a needle in my brain
All thanks to Mr. Layne
It muddles the songs I hear
Down in a hole in fear.

Trembling, holding the wheel so tight,
Red lights disappear down so far...

Colour my dreams today
Paint them red, coded grey
Holy smoke up in the air
Where am I? oh where?

Hear the sound man sing
From behind a riddled sky
Hold me, hand me a spike
High up, without a hike.

There's a tune inside my ear
Dont drift in, just stay clear
Withering leaves tell me a tale
Of winters past and pale.

There's a ant inside my eye
Marching, making me cry
Blue and white, it struts around
She flies, I'm on the ground.

Trembling, holding the wheel so tight,
Red lights disappear down so far...

Colour my dreams today
Paint them red, coded grey
Holy smoke up in the air
Where am I? oh where?

Hear the sound man sing
From behind a riddled sky
Hold me, hand me a spike
High up, without a hike.

There's fog up on the terrace
A circle of friends in thought,
Silence heard and ghosts seen
In the fog on Christmas eve.

There's an angel in the air
I'm talking, I'm almost there
Her voice sounds like the breeze
Rustling in the trees............

Anything that works

2010-01-06T11:41:00.000-08:00

I wonder what'll kill us first,
Sammy's dollar or the nuclear bomb?
If the sting aint enuf' my darlin'
CO2 can get you too.

Would I be lying if I said
That the world is a beautiful place?
Would you let me rule my heart
When I'm down there on my face?

No you do not rejoice yet
I'm only as sane as you are, Now!.
Dont take away my moment from me
I've only got a few to drink to.

Life should be a
Long lazy dream
Am I asking for too much?
It's a cuppa' bitter coffee
With a lil' cream
Cappuccino!

You might be the star on the block
Or a homie tryin' to build your bricks
You might be upto no good at all
Machiavellian, doing your tricks.

Or all you ever want to do is
Light a smoke and fill your lungs
You might be the one who's cussing
But they are the ultimate thugs.

Life should be a
Long lazy dream
Am I asking for too much?
It's a cuppa' bitter coffee
With a lil' cream
Cap - Cap - Cappuccino!

Chant it, preach it
Make it your mantra
As long as I live,
Anything that works

I dont even care
Dont tell me that you do
Anything that sells
Anything that works.

Life should be a
Long lazy dream
Am I asking for too much?
It's a cuppa' bitter coffee
With a lil' cream
Cappuccino!

Am I insane? Or are you?

2010-01-06T07:33:00.000-08:00

Long ago when the great apes carried seeds of humanity, I wonder if sanity / insanity was an issue. I wonder if a bunch of apes similarly positioned in mind and body, decided to stigmatize a slightly different one among them, and labeled it insane. I sometimes think if it is possible that a slight deviation in behaviour translated to an aberration to the norms of the neanderthals (anybody who questions the existence of norms among neanderthals should look into a mirror and gaze intently at themselves until they believe otherwise) thus giving the world its first boorish lunatic; if over the 200,000 years of human evolution, a crack became a crevice, and holy water flowed to widen the divide and gave rise to the sane and insane factions among us, as we see it today.

I would have convinced myself that insanity is in fact a curse of the white sheep to the outnumbered, unconventional black ones, if not for a particular group of madmen. The ones that were born among the "sane", but defected to the other side midway through their lifetime. This I strongly believe is due to the mis-wiring / detatchment of certain neurological elements, as a result of direct or indirect impact of an action with an equal and brain smothering reaction.

All this evolution centric thinking and scientific pondering has led me to think bout one other thing. Catch 22 has enlightened me enough to know for a fact that (if not anything else), a madman knows not, about his standing among the think - alikes of the world. He does not comprehend the ways of the sane, and a friend was also quick to point out (from personal experience) that they deem that every other person in the world, is raving mad. So how on earth does someone realize the onset of insanity? What if I was insane? (I personally think it'd be pretty cool and the world would expect nothing but drivel from me) How the hell do we know if we are insane? for all I care, every madman thinks he's sane. Its pretty trippy and dangerous to think of the world as a place where people thinking and acting alike became the sane faction and and the rest were shunned as non - conformers, whackos, wierdos - insane. Coz then, even a slightly rebellious mind will be tempted to choose the less trodden path. It would then lead to the destruction of conventions for starters and an obliteration of moral rules bringing up the main course. A scoop of brilliance for desert, and we have a brand new psycho, another joins the sparsely populated city of delusion, where your contorted mind makes the rules and you follow them religiously, bereft of trifles - only the higher layers matter (the physical layer is for the communcation theorists, if u know what I mean).

Clinging on to the edge of reason
Trying too hard
To satisfy my soul
I'm delving into depths unknown to me.

Maria

2010-01-01T19:59:00.000-08:00

Wind blows at my face, I go to
Another place
Another time

Standing right across the street, she looks
More beautiful than ever
In the dark

Lips spread into a smile, I can hear
Words I've never spoken
pouring out

Raindrops freeze as she moves her eyes
My whole world is coming
To a stop

O Maria,
I'll be long gone fore' I tell you.

O Maria,
I'll be long gone fore' you know.

Where is my shining World?

2009-12-18T00:42:00.000-08:00

With the coming of the wave
Feet go crunching in the sand
Every time I'm hit
The misfit tends to curl inside.

Waiting for the saving grace
While I hear the madmen rave
I scream aloud to the sun
The misfit in me, curls inside again.

Your eyes do fine,
What does your mind see?
Left to yourself,
What would you be?
Its time again
To ask myself
Where is my shining world?

Breeding love and changing faith,
Killing them and wounding us
Freedom never seems to come
And the misfit tends to cry inside

Label her and call her vile
The finger's always there to point
Its ok to make her smile
But misfit still weeps inside

Your eyes do fine,
What does your mind see?
Left to yourself,
What would you be?
Its time again
To ask myself
Where is my shining world?

Call it yours, Call it mine
Make it yours, Its hardly mine
Wake them up, and preach this song
I might not be there, to sing along

Call it yours, Call it mine
Make it yours, Its hardly mine
Wake them up, and preach this song
I might not be there, to sing along

Your eyes do fine,
What does your mind see?
Left to yourself,
What would you be?
Its time again
To ask myself
Where is my shining world?

The curse of a gift

2009-12-15T12:20:00.000-08:00

Haunt my thoughts,
Linger around
The border of my mind

Keep me waking
All night long
Till I find my peace

Can I follow you
To the end?
Of this speeding tunnel.

Will you help me up
To the sky,
Up the green beanstalk

I dont think I can understand
Bout' how you always seem to
Surround, get the better of me
But still you make me free.

I guess I'll never escape you
Trust me I've tried
How many people do you think
Have held you to their heart and cried?

All pervading,
It surfeits
And Fills up my mind

Resounding, resonating
Inside the woods
Always conjuring a charm.

Hell bent upon
Your presence here
I have you in my life

Cradling a wish
A silent prayer
Forever, all this time.

I dont think I can understand
Bout' how you always seem to
Surround, get the better of me
And still you make me free.

I guess I'll never escape you
Trust me I've tried
How many people do you think
Have held you to their heart and cried?

The meltdown

2009-11-26T05:45:00.000-08:00

Cold as a stone in the sky,
Floating all around
Waiting till it hits the ground.

Fore' you know it, it will all
Wash into your brain,
Cause you suffering, and the pain will

Choke you off your breath,
Leave you wondering and waiting,
For the pain, to melt away.

Speed, the sucker...

2009-11-03T14:59:00.000-08:00

I'm slow.

What I really want to say is, I like to be slow. There's nothing more I'd wish for, if I was to be handed a book, and given a lot of time to understand what every line in the book was meant to mean. It would indeed make my day if the world slowed down to a numb buzz for a minute or two allowing me to see, analyze, interpret and comprehend all. If there was time enough for me to see that falling drop wobble itself into a sphere, only to get dismembered by the merciless undulations of an ever consuming ground. But apparently, these joyous trinkets are not what I'm made to live for. Bigger, better things are meant to await my presence in the ever near, never near future.

Its a shame we are all off our hinges in this madly accelerating world. Its a shame how deadlines can ruin a perfectly good day of learning. Its a shame we can do nothing but speed up, to keep up. Its a shame the world of poets is just a figment of my imagination. Its a shame we've let it all go dizzy and haywire. Its a cryin' shame that all I'll ever want to do is to slow down, when all I can afford to do, is try to run faster....and faster... and faster.

Definitions - BMS

2009-10-30T03:14:00.000-07:00

Ah! A 4 – year holiday, that's what it was. The college I went to, part – time to get an undergraduate degree, and full time to hang out with a bunch of top notch dabblers. We were a tight group of friends who had all mysteriously decided that our purpose in life was way more intricate than could be realized by means of working hard towards an Electronics and Communications Engineering degree in BMS. A technical degree in hand and not a shred of knowledge upstairs.

The beginning

2009-10-30T03:00:00.001-07:00

He was too scared to look into the mirror. The venomous residues of a previous incursion still lingered. Every ounce of determination and all the pragmatic, physical goading that a 22 year old could cough up, proved to be futile. Even as this tussle squeezed the daylight out of his eyes, “And to what avail?” cried the mind. “Why do you want to put me through that again?” He did not know. Another thing on the list of the numerous don’t - knows that seemed to have engulfed his life. All the same, the questions kept popping up. Questions that could not be dismissed, ones that did not have an answer scripted yet, the ones that would unfold themselves for all the world to see; in the future that was to be his and everyone like him. There were lots of him, surrounded by the ubiquitous uncertainties that one single nation had nurtured, only to father a vengeful, prodigal son. One among the multitude of desis who had jumped the Atlantic in search of knowledge and money, at this point he felt lacking in one and bereft of the other.

The higher view

2009-10-27T16:14:00.000-07:00

Ever so often I find myself
Floating in the clouds, weightless
Oblivious, content and happy.

Up there, the philosophy of credit
And the theory of effort holds good.
And the world does not disappoint.

But the Eagle does not fly forever
You get to choose your moments and,
You get to go again, tomorrow.

Bleak

2009-10-27T00:59:00.000-07:00

So, so different
So many colours
And so difficult
To understand.

You're just another
But then again
You're so different
And difficult.

Too bad you're not a genius
Rue that, but it will not help.
I guess its time all over again
To take the long path home.

Too bad you think its not your fault
And you begin to sympathize
I hope that you can understand
That you begin to realize.

So, many choices,
Yet there are none.
Fore' you finish this
Fun you've started.

So, what are you gonna
Do about this?
Will you let it all be
A waste of your time?

Too bad you're not a genius
Rue that, but it will not help.
I guess its time all over again
To take the long path home.

Too bad you think its not your fault
And you begin to sympathize
I hope that you can understand
That you begin to realize.

So you begin to talk
Like you've understood
Like the tiger has come
Right Out of the woods.

So, so different
So many vivid colours
And so damn difficult
To understand.

Smudged all over the canvas
Making your senses weak
Your thoughts seem like the canvas
The future looks bleak.

Bunch o' my brain - student

2009-10-24T03:12:00.000-07:00

Think and thrive
Delve and derive
Stupid or clever
Student forever

SK

2009-10-21T11:45:00.000-07:00

Every moment of laughter
You made possible,
Is a moment we'll cherish.
Leave the worries behind,
Rest in peace my friend,
Your warmth will never perish.

The animation, the chatter
and the friendly banter,
will all be revisited,
And we'll all laugh, yet again.

We'll miss you Kattige.

An ode to my Dell

2009-10-08T13:59:00.000-07:00

Dusty Rusty system of mine
Hang in there its just a matter of time.
I'm almost done with the troubleshoot
A few more minutes and u'll get a reboot!

You're more wired than you're wireless
You're a lappy under a lot of stress.
I love you and I hate you too,
You'd probably be dead without Ubuntu.

You dont know who's bluetooth or Zigbee
All you've got is your 40 Gb!
You're off you're hinges and I mean it well
And you keep on going coz you're a Dell.

You're my friend from the long leavy nights
And you've been dropped from dizzy heights.
One full bowl of cereal and milk
And you still keep running, smooth as silk.

You gotta run Matlab without a glitch,
Show the Mac in the corner is a real B****
But for now, you just gotta act tough,
Battle it out and do your stuff.

I wonder how long you'll carry on
Wonder what I'll do when you're gone.
But someday for sure I'll give you your rest
One final update and a memory test.

C - onked

2009-10-03T20:32:00.000-07:00

Combing a confluence of creation,
Conundrums, cadence and confusion,
I'm citing ciphers from inside a circle,
Cradling a cynically conked conscience.

Crunch

2009-09-23T02:57:00.000-07:00

Its 3:30 am.
I'm sitting at my desk, with my study lamp on. There's an exam at 10. I also have a pile of 105 homeworks that I need to correct before 2 pm. But I need to study. And I desperately need to sleep. One among these things is bound to get messed up. I'm hoping its the part about sleeping. If nothing gets messed, then I've learnt what I needed to from an MS I guess.

Bunch o' my Brain - Consumed

2009-09-17T20:29:00.000-07:00

Take these evanescent feelings,
Grow em' up till they rule you.
And when they start draining
Is when it feels good too.

Bunch o' my Brain - No Entry

2009-09-14T08:20:00.000-07:00

Its my mind,
I'm in the centre.
Its my world,
You may not enter.

Bunch o' my Brain - feelin' good

2009-09-11T23:51:00.000-07:00

A breezy evening confers hope
And my mind gets swept in the current.
While its always wise to put up a hillock,
Its a fool who does not enjoy the moment.

Strategies and Results

2009-09-04T12:52:00.000-07:00

We all have strategies. Plans of action that are meant to lead straight to the doorstep of success. Ideas that seem so rosy when scripted, you want to pat yourself for thinking it up. Well, pat myself I did, but not on the back; rather, on my dumb head for not being able to materialize even one of them.

I've been a fool, not for coming up with strategies, but for believing that every day is a new one. Sorry to break the news - Today depends on yesterday and tomorrow depends on today. And by dint of recursion, I mean to say that what you did a 1000 years ago, may still have relevance today. There is no such thing as a new day. The problem with this whole concept of a new day, is its allusion to hope. No seriously, A new day does not symbolize hope for God's sake. For all you know, today might turn out to be a lot crappier than yesterday. This piece of writing will translate to pessimism in a lot of the readers' minds. And guess what, that is pretty much the point. I am not a pessimist, but I believe there is no room in the world for a complete optimist. Its like a Government without Opposition, an unchecked growth of a Stack that needs to be popped in order to retrieve a sane and knowing mind. Well, what's the solution then? I dont know. Maybe I wont find out for another 20 years. But I'm not clinging onto a succession of days and dubbing them a succession of new beginnings. I will rather believe in the ability of a determined human mind, and in sincere, organized effort.

There are no new days. But there is experience and the capability to think and reform; and there is a goal.

Bunch o' my Brain - Change

2009-09-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

I wonder if it is time
To stop being me.
If its time to change the picture
I've left in my wake.

Why?

2009-08-31T08:10:00.000-07:00

I think I'm losing it. Well, don't rejoice just yet; I'm not referring to my mind; I'm talking about the ability to write something that I would not fall asleep to. Its been quite a while since I wrote anything apart from songs and snippets of my perception of wisdom. But what I really want to do, is to conjure one single solid paragraph, that's not left wanting in something. Every recent attempt at accomplishing this has ended up in the prose being inadequate in structure, language, meaning or flavour. Like authentic Chinese Cuisine. And darn the red line that has just popped up underneath the "flavour" - an upshot of the American infatuation with opposing the British way of life. And I'm not a great fan of the British either. I digress; Crap, the clogging of my stream of thought seems to be getting the better of me again. So before you cut me off, (Static buzz in the background with a vague vision of a screen that cant render an image for nuts owing to its slower than death refresh rate and a mysterious flicker that's ever prevalent in horror movies) here's declaring a war (-buzz-) on you, mind. I'm gonna (-buzz- -flicker- -buzz-) kick your (-buzz-) butt and get back to writing stuff that's (-flicker- -buzzz-) readable and writable. Dang it! I'm talking to myself again. Now, you may rejoice. Adios homies!

Eatable Quotes - Brainless

2009-08-28T16:31:00.000-07:00

At some point you begin to realize that its lack of information and not the inability to interpret, extrapolate and analytically predict whats going on.