overcoming #@$@#%!

It was fun, i started off with no hope of carrying out a decent meaningful conversation, but it wasnt meant to be that simple. We talked, i thought it was fun, you undermined my only reason for living, corrupted my dreams and soon i stopped dreaming without even realizing it. I had turned into everything i hated about people, my persona of evil. I talked of things i didnt think i was capable of even listening to.
Little by little my insides rotted, still unaware of the apparently indelible change. As always the realization dawns a little late and it seems too late to revert the numbness that has taken over. Benumbed from head to toe, the change may be too discomforting for my comfort. The lack of sensation, far from gratifying(as i once believed it would be) but complacent enough to deter change will be the end of me.

friends

Why did it take me so long to realize this? Even now, can i be absolutely certain?
Looking into the mirror at the face of the illusion, dark lines streaked across the wall, the light illuminates, at the same time casting shadows over the chaste plains.

I have never been quite sure about who my friends were or if i had any at all. I dont mind most of the people i meet, its only my friends that i have a problem with. Once i start analysing them all the kirks become apparent, that coupled with their tendency to compete to prove their superiority over me annoys me to no extent(this wouldn't have mattered if they actually did have some grey matter inside that thick skull of theirs). But the problem is all my so called 'cool' friends fall into this category and now the people whom i wouldnt have looked twice at before are beginning to seem cool, they accept that i'm smart and are ready to listen to the things i want to say and dont just write me off as some arrogant, narcissistic, conceited ass.

Everybody has a cool side to them and one should be smart enough to recognize that in others and just accept them for who they are....

The need to write

Is it a need, a compulsion or an obligation that i have to fulfil?

you think you have an idea????? well i've got news for you.......so do 6 billion other people on this planet.
now the question is, why would you think you are different from any of them?

some might say its the company that induces one to think or perhaps its the peer group that influences one into thinking or is it the way the this patriarchal system works that impregnates ideas.......well whatever the reason might be, it works.

One has to be genius to come up with something brilliant in total solitude without being influenced whatsoever by anything around him that actually gets wide recognition.
Good ideas in well knit societies are commonplace, brilliant ideas on the other hand are a rarity, but not as impressive as ones a supposedly socio-path might come up with.
Its one thing to be given the parts of a puzzle and asked to complete it and another to come with the entire puzzle itself......thats the true genius that needs to be appreciated.

Imagine a world where everything in copyrighted right down to the smallest detail and the slightest imitation of any detail of it punishable by death
every single automobile had to be unique, every house or anything that one can think of had to be one of a kind....sure it would tremendously retard the rate of progress but the progress that we do make will be in giant leaps
and the best part would be everyone would have to contribute and not just leech

The Ring

I see a ring,
a ring that encompasses all,
comprehensive of all the thoughts and people and pleasures,
the dark ring precedes the corona,
if not, most would be lost forever.

Everything has its place,
no matter how much one begs to differ, he's still a part of the system,
only the enlightened souls(and the mad men) reach the girdle,
everyone strives for it with a basic idea of it in their heads,
they reach out to emptiness,
the darkness within them averts their dreams, tainting them.

Inception

All that was needed was a trigger to set the bullet in motion,
the burst of entropy far more potent than the strongest of the nuclear warheads,
strong enough to manifest itself on reality,
blurring the face of the maniac with his grasp around the cold steel trigger,
dreams so complex, they start to make sense and seem almost a bore.

A pledge to never go back,
lock away everything that needs to be forgotten,
not in a door-less room, but a miniature glass ball,
seemingly too small but withholding more than i could dream up in a lifetime,
the alarming attention to detail,
the smoothness, the impeccable shape and the immaculate gloss and colour,
it seduces you to grasp it in your palms, but its touch impalpable,
once inside, only the essence can seep out,but never the thought itself.
It reflects everything and yet its dark,
could be shattered but not without dire consequences...

Machines

I wonder what it is about super cool machines that make me go WWOOOOWWWW!!!
I knew i was in love the first time i laid my eyes on a lamborghini(i think it was a gallardo). Man, what a car that was!! i was absolutely besotted...
Usually orange isnt a colour one uses to paint a million dollar production car, or any other car for that matter(unless one has the intention of blinding every person laying his eyes on it) and when you hear of a orange lambo you'd expect it to be ugly and flamboyant but on the contrary orange is the best colour to canvass this awe-inspiring car.
Then came the Lamborghini Murcielago LP-670 SV......i think just the sight of it benumbed my brain and my body went torpid and i'm quite certain i was drooling. It looked diabolical to say the least! It projected the feeling-"I'll rip your head off and eat you alive!". I watched with my mouth half open when it was reviewed on top gear. If someone told me it could fly i'd probably believe that, it looked more like a fighter plane than a sports car. I'd say i was head over heels in love with it....and that was before i knew what it was capable of! Rumours has it that it can shred tarmac and slice through mountains and once i saw it perform i was convinced!
It's the love of my life! Given a choice between remaining single for the rest of my life and owning one of these babies, i'd choose this without so much as a second thought!

99 Red Balloons

whipped out the steel rule,
shouted out "en gaurde",
swinging that shit around madly,
jumping about without a thought in my head,
set my mind free and danced like a perfectly insane madman,
even unaware of the word "inhibition",
the sound of music flooding my veins,
body swaying to unheard beats,
the song kept playing in endless loop till i collapsed from exhaustion,
i closed my eyes peacefully, aware that i might never listen to that song again.



You and I in a little toy shop
Buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got
Set them free at the break of dawn
'Til one by one they were gone
Back at base, bugs in the software
Flash the message, something's out there
Floating in the summer sky
Ninety-nine red balloons go by

Ninety-nine red balloons
Floating in the summer sky
Panic bells, it's red alert
There's something here from somewhere else
The war machine springs to life
Opens up one eager eye
Focusing it on the sky
As ninety-nine red balloons go by

Ninety-nine decisions treat
Ninety-nine ministers meet
To worry, worry, super scurry
Call out the troops now in a hurry
This is what we've waited for
This is it, boys, this is war
The President is on the line
As ninety-nine red balloons go by

Neunundneunzig Kriegsminister
Streichholz und Benzinkanister
Hielten sich für schlaue Leute
Witterten schon fette Beute
Riefen: Krieg und wollten Macht
Mann, wer hätte das gedacht?
Daß es einmal so weit kommt
Wegen neunundneunzig Luftballons
Neunundneunzig Luftballons

Ninety-nine dreams I have had
And every one a red balloon
It's all over, and I'm standing pretty
In the dust that was a city
I could find a souvenir
Just to prove the world was here
Here it is, a red balloon
I think of you and let it go

P.A.I.N.

Pain is the reminder of ones existence,
even more so when the injury is life threatening.
Excitement is ephemeral, boredom is eternal.
Now when i look back, i see a fleeting moment of consciousness,
a fraction of transient time that brought me down to earth
and it'll take a lot more than sleeping pills to get rid of that memory

glimpse

magically heal the tattered dreams,
ameliorate the phantom pain,
glistening dark tattoo on a limp, cold, partially decaying arm,
deception of fallen heroes,
golden haze - occluded vision,
the dawn of the night

R.I.P.

rest in peace my friend, you were always by my side - through thick and thin and i'll be there for you when your last comrade abandons you, even when your confidant betrays you and you breathe your last, i'll be there to wipe your tears and the blood off your lips
love is a dangerous thing.....the word itself holds such immense power
you should have paid heed to me whilst i warned you not to use the word so liberally,
look what you have brought upon yourself....you deserved better and my heart bleeds for you

the gunshot hole illuminates the empty room,
you can bend to the best of your abilities and yet escape is impossible,
that scrawny little body of yours will implode under the immense pressure,
the ashes lost in the endless labyrinth,
all you can do is watch as the last evidence of your existence fades away into the darkness

this worthless body is the only thing that tethers my mind to reality,
how i wish my mind was simply drifting in a matrix of information,
the matrix held together by interconnected thoughts,
every laudable idea and thought that has ever occurred to anyone within the mind's reach,
other worthy minds partaking in discussions far beyond the grasp of common minds,
not a banal conversation to be heard,
that's bliss

morphing appearance

cold winds sting my cheeks,
the night draws closer as the last drop of sweat struggles to de-materialize,
the sun dipping lower with every passing second into the interminable horizon,
veiled by the dull clouds which ornate its ironically dreary existence,
there are no anticipative fumes, no dampness or entropy,
the calm skies invite you closer to the unfathomable sea below,
the diffusive orange glow, almost dark, skim the surface,
the remnants of sun almost palpable,
if only i could grasp it in my hands,
i wouldn't part with it till i expelled my soul,
i would love you more than my life,
only if you weren't a figment of my imagination,
please give me a reason to believe so,
i beg you....please

The last place

Where will you go when you cant see where you are heading? what will you do when the sanctity of your last hope is corrupted by darkness......constantly ignoring the beacon within you showing the right way, how long are you going to stagger before your knees collapse? How long will you take crap just because you are too lazy to do something about it?
What are you so ashamed of? Is it selfishness that prevents one from revealing the truth or is the truth too embarrassing? you will be made fun of till you continue to keep others in darkness...but when accidently revealed there will be humiliation. Will you be laughed at for the very nature of the truth or perhaps it will be because of all the lies you have been spouting just to cover up the truth(which seems so trivial right now). But more importantly will you even care enough to feel the humiliation?

I'm sure we'll be reminiscing this night over dinner many years from now, feeling all nostalgic, some details are obviously going to be polished and some new details about things that never took place are going to be thrown about, but the core theme will remain unchanged.
As we mature our fundamentals and ideals are bound to change and conform to socially accepted stereotype, but if it doesn't there'll be more suffering than if we were to follow those stereotypes.....of course the former are the happier ones but the latter are well.....smart and yet unhappy
This isn't the first time this thought has occurred to me- why is it that intelligence is inversely proportional to happiness? why cant i have both?

The human mind has always fascinated me

The drab sound transports me instantly the the far reaches of the universe, the contrast between the places illustrated by the augmentation of the glimmer in the eyes. I see no surreal architecture, no glow from the stars, only vast plane grasslands under the crystal blue sky, the lucid white clouds only accentuating the chaste blueness of the skies.
Soaring high above the water to find my own restrictions blocking my freedom, and the sun begins to scorch. The drop serving to cool only the outermost layers, but its only when the tip of my toes touch the water, the goosebumps become apparent all over my forearms. Mind so easily miscible with the cold water, it diffuses into the sea through my ears, tiny hair tingling my insides as it flows out.
Waves pass through as if they fail to acknowledge my existence, yet i find myself immersed in the immense joy of the rocking motion from the cool cradle, constantly floating towards an unknown destination.

The rude awakening from the stab in the back aggravated by the humiliation of the wound. At times like these i wish i didnt have friends, but then who would conceal me during my endless slumbers?

The piercing light giving a false sense of clarity when shrouded by darkness, the dirt so long left uncleaned that absence of it brought about a sense of uneasiness, has it been hiding the blemishes all along or was it a shortfall in my abilities which enabled it to elude my eyes for months?

strum away, write away into the endless days

the yarn tightly wounds around all the mundane thoughts, accumulated, hoping for the only outlet which was under my control. Bound so tight that eventually all the grey matter starts to ooze out and finally it explodes on itself, with nowhere to go but back to its origins.
I try to pull on my hair, but all that my hands grasp is the mud of time, not the sands of time. With the bits clinging on to my face i try to regain my composure but only to know the futility of my wasted attempts.
The fate's empty warnings echoes through the battlefield, just as an empty vessel makes noise-thats all there is, noise. There is no voice of submission, only battle-cries from within the helmets bouncing off the shields and bones, resonating within the hollow skull. Oh how i wish it were hollow, only if, only if....

The dull orange stares at me, constantly laughing at me for using it for so mundane a purpose, I'm tired of your euphemisms, but that makes a whole different story all together.
Thats all he ever says- strum away, strum away, strum away, strum away, but why do i like it so much, i fail to see the attachment, if only everything was as clear as i wish it to be and yet again the dull orange light brings me back to the reality.

first step

i woke up to a slight lack-of-sleep-induced-headache today and the banging on the door didnt help things.
sleep deprivation does strange things to your brain, it introduces a kind of static that one sees on TVs into your head and its intensity is directly proportional to the number hours you spent last night doing anything but sleep. The static's there in every thought that passes through your head and you get the feeling of a hangover, now that i think about it, there is no demarcation line between this and a hangover, to an observer it looks the same and you yourself feel like shit.

Another day, another casualty....sounds like the lyrics of some song
as i write this, my aunt gets the dreaded call-dreaded by me, more bad news....why cant they just let me be, mind his own fucking damn business. As the conversation proceeds my heart starts racing, nothing good can come from that tone of voice and yes there goes my last hope of peaceful days......

iam on fire

you fucking bitch!! you took all that you wanted from me and this is what i get in return?? i wasted away my time staring at the wall looking at the void space within myself thinking it was never there. I'll never again receive your calls, DIE BITCH go fuck yourself. Didnt you feel slightest bit of pity for me, you are like me in more ways than one, you are more like me than i myself am and yet you are contemptible.
every problem is an opportunity in disguise, i see the opportunity and i made use of it, yet iam not thankful to you, iam one step closer to my goal than i was an hour ago and its alll because of you. i might never have thought of it if i had gotten what i wanted and yet all i feel is contempt.
Now that you have given it to me, i dont hate you anymore and everything i thought in the meantime turned out to be useless crap and i wasted so much of my time, all those minutes i spent cursing you...wasted....but will i ever know what iam doing is worth the time? or will the realization dawn only when its already too late.
Whats the use of that bloody hammer hitting my head when iam already bleeding profusely, weeping, when my tears emit that sweet scent of mud that takes me to another high but iam too depressed to enjoy what i have created, its already too late for that, i had my chance and i missed it........

futile attempts

what makes me so special? is it the fact that i consider most people around me as idiots, or is it that i despite hating them to the core i cant live without them and i spend most of my conscious time battling it out in my head, lashing away at them even though they havent done anything appalling.
Words are your weapons mohnish he says, can i make them bleed through their stomachs, can i cut them open with my words so that their insides spill out, staining my thoughts red? were my thoughts this perverted from the beginning or did writing it out make it gory.
world bloody hell! damn you! fuck you! i dont give a damn about you or what you say, especially what you say! then why is it that iam so frustrated with you. You have done nothing but shape me into what i am right now, i love what iam, i love who i am, i love the things i think about, i love to think that you could never even dream to think about the thoughts that i think of but yet i waste my time conforming my thoughts, trying to prove to you and the whole world.
You represent everything thats wrong with the world, at the same time you are also the embodiment of everything thats right with it, if you have shaped me into what iam and who iam and despite loving myself so much why do i hate you?
is it that i hate you for everything thats wrong with you or do i hate you because iam all alone and the very reason for this solitude being you. why isnt there a single person unable to understand me, who cant conform my thoughts, who cant think of the things that i think of?
Do i believe that cos it makes me feel special, but it makes me lonely too and i hate the solitude.....