Hope?

Off late, loads of people have asked me one question far too often. It is a question I ask off myself and an event I discuss with myself so frequently that it is driving me crazy.

The paradox here is (there always is a paradox, only takes the right perspective to find it) it was I who created this event, this question. It is a product of my desire, my hope and my fantasy. It was not hidden or swept under the carpet for its purpose was but the opposite of what it has mutated into today. It gave me hope, reason to push forward, sweat it out. It still does at times. But nowadays it is largely overshadowed by the chills it sends down my spine.

How often it is that what you create often becomes your own nemesis?

The question that once helped me wake up each morning with hope and reassured me is now the reason I cannot sleep in the first place. It haunts me; it haunts me so bad that I have reached a point when I may have to kill what I created. There is no greater injustice in life than when you have to decapitate the flesh of your own loins (metaphor please). And I guess in the interest of sanity I will have to unplug my own creation.

Questions, answers…how does any of it really matter? I guess only one thing matters, can you find sleep tonight?

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

You hear it all around you and its one of those adages that one simply cannot take seriously. If one were not to wish for anything, if there were no endeavors, there would be no purpose to life. And it is this sad fact that makes me sick to my stomach. All through your recent past you cringe and cry for something and when you get it you really wish you didn’t. This is not hoping for some toy or something materialistic. It is a lot more meaningful than anything one can put a price tag to. These are emotions and secret desires that dwell deep down that you very well know exist but you never talk about it. Insecurities and fatal hunger for doing something, maybe doing someone, being something you are not or simply cannot be. You senses tell you that you are smarter than that and it isn’t something that you want, but you want it. Period. No matter who you are, there is always something about yourself that you want to change.

I am no different. This has nothing to do with what others want you to be but it is about how you perceive yourself, something you cannot ignore, turn your back or simply avoid. All my life I have hoped and wished that I weren’t so numb. So disconnected with what is happening around you and with yourself that you even welcome pain and misery with open arms. Well, it’s an emotion, you tell yourself.

But then things take a twist and somehow you find yourself in a place that you exactly want to be. Exactly what you hoped for and you look at yourself in the mirror and expect to see yourself happy. But then, life cannot be that easy, can it? It has to kick you in the balls and drag you through dirt. And you realize you are so neck deep in shit you want to go back to the place where you were comfortably numb. So much simpler. Definitely less complicated. But now you drown yourself in thoughts to the point of no return. It’s like a quicksand. The harder you fight to escape the more you are sucked in. There is no fighting it. You simply cannot escape.

All that you can do is ramble about a time that was beautiful enough that it did not afford you the luxury to think and ponder. When you could actually look within your self to find a sense of content that seems eternal as opposed to the fleeting emotions product of the tiresome rigors of your current pursuits, banal as they seem, but none the less determine the course of your life. Finally you hit a point when you realize that what you hated were the best moments of your life, and from thereon it is all going bad to worse. Worse to horrible, horrible to catastrophic. And strangely, it doesn’t matter anymore cause once you realize you are in for shitty ride, you just brace yourself and let go. Not so easy, this last bit.

Here I finally come to a juncture, when I start out telling a story and end up with a different one. Maybe that’s what life is all about, not knowing where you are headed. But to enjoy it rather than beat yourself, you have to let go. It is simpler that way and certainly less painful. To conclude, Simplicity in any of its form is amongst the hardest to derive and is without doubt the most complex state to arrive at. Or maybe I don’t know shit. If I were you I would bet on the latter.

requiem for a dream

Its been a long while since I posted and for good reason. I had/have been experimenting with the more classical pen and paper. While I have grown to appreciate the undeniable pleasure of listening to your pen scratch across the page, I cannot help but revert back to this because of several reasons. Whom am I kidding? Its just one and its my handwriting as every teacher who has had the misfortune of reading through the rubbish I have written over the years will testify.

On a more serious note, I would like to dedicate a post entirely to the most influential song in my life to date. All those of hours of melancholy, depression, desperation, frustration and utter disgust have found me with but two companions. One, the eerie glow that only candles can bring to a room and two, this song. It has been the background score to so many revelations and introspective sessions.In fact it is playing as I type this out. So I dedicate this second wind of blogging to This song.

feel like crp...find me, me glass...nah the bottle...

i'm sorry.i appologize for being such a failure.i appologize for having such low expectations from my life.

its bad being in the dark.i think and think and i'm stupid and dumb.and along comes some one thing i know and i think i'm atleast reasonably intelligent.but i'm dumb and i'm stupid.and i'm stupid and i'm dumb.

i'm sorry i'm incapable of so much as getting into an institution.so, so very incapable of even making into a minor club in a small place with no civilization.i'm so sorry i couldn't even be bothered enough to care about things that don't really matter.so very sorry i couldn't associate with the normal people who cared about things that didn't really matter.

i appologize for my uncaring attitude towards everthing everywhere.i appologize for not taking baths often enough to deserve their indiscrimination.i appologize for not washing my clothes frequently enough to appear normal and deserving their lack of care.

i'm sorry i am under-acheiving bastard.i think i'm sorry i couldn't even convince a few insignificant people of my wothiness.i'm even sorrier knowing now that i myself don't believe in my worthiness.

pain...strangely

why did we let our prophets go to waste?
there are too many to identify, and dutifully acknowledge, aren't there?too many to find, yet, ironically enough, not many enough.
a good friend of mine, is gravely suffering now.he is not so much a plain friend, as he is a denied confidant.
i have known in my meager but far-too-long-lived-life, a simple yet small fraction of humanity: that were capable of independence from it.
i whole heartedly wish that i was orthogonal to time and space.if only you knew what that meant.if only you knew what that felt like.
i am not gifted enough with words to express it well enough.nor, might i add, are you gifted enough to compherend my unremarkable explaination of the same.
as pink floyd so beautifully put it:i can't explain, you would not understand (this is not how i am).
as i stated before, life has become unremarkable to me.it has little to offer me still.
my delusions of superiority are fading.they lost all their base reasoning in one grand strike from a pair, of conjured gods.i shall not explain. you will not understand.
i wish that you knew what independence truly signifies.i wish that you could free your inhibited will.that would lead to: free will.
i wish that death would be done with me.no, i do not wish to die.i care not for suicide.
i just plainly wish to be put out of my misery.it is unfortunate that it has come to be synonymous with death.but things are as the are.and i exercise little, if no bearing at all, on them.
i seem to want to express, to you, the wonderful numbers i have known.seven. and seventeen. they are divine.i, i'm afraid, am anything but.
the forbiddances of simple connectivity.the sacrifices we unknowingly make; so as to be accepted as part of human society.
we are born without our rights as living beings.we are compensated, so to speak, for those sacrifices; by humanly invented rights.it is much along the lines of having your parents murdered and being offered cello-tape for your troubles.as worthy compensation for it.
lately, i had taken to watching cartoons all day.it seemed the appropriate thing to do.in this world full of inexaustable suffering and pain, what better haven is there, than the innocence so intended for the only innocent that remain.
superstars and cannon balls are running through your head,television freak shows; cops and robbers everywhere,animals and children tell the truth; they never lie,which one is more human; there's a thought now you decide.

it's a song.it's savage garden.i wish their name didn't so rightly represent the state of the world.but it does.and i appologise for it.

as i was saying of my friend.he is suffering, in pain as he is.and i, in all my glorious power, am utterly incapaple of helping him.

and i want to.to state to him, simple reassurances.to undo the effects of lonliness.
i should know.i grew up on lonloness.not in lonliness, mind you.but quite simply, on it.
i wish kurt vonneagut could be god.if only for a day, if only for an instant.i embody the characters in his stories, as i embody all characters in all stories i read.and i find my self happier in most of them, even the scary ones.

i have long since out grown my family.those that remain, are mere shadows of the shadows they were before.i wish that wilbur daffodil-2 swain would christen me a daffodil-17.i suspect that i will be happier, if not perpetually extatic.
i have meager expectations of life.or whatever is left of it.

i think, the remainder of my life; i'd like to spend in the uninhibited ambiance,of someone i need not tolerate.i'd like to spend it, watching cartoons and movies, eating french fries and chips.and ice cream, if i may be so bold.

i tire of the devious games i play, of the continual psycho-analysis i find myself doing.i want not to bother with them any more.i want to be imbuned with ignorance and innocence.i want to be left alone.please don't leave me alone.

this friend i spoke of is evil, and i mean that in no uncertain terms.and so, i'm afraid, am i.and so, i'm afraid, is everyone i like.it's not uncommon. intelligence breeds evil.and i am far too intelligent for my own good.

i, as half of one united genius, came up with the wondorous classification of the people i like.it is simple in it's definition and inherently beautiful.and it is this. people i like are either: brilliant or intellectual.

the concept, i shall make a conscious effort to explain.there are those that are ignorantly geniuses.and i have seen that these very ones, are innocently geniuses.this language, i'm afraid, makes that distinction.these are the brilliant. the ignorant-innocent-geniuses.

the genius so defined, need not be a knack for solving cyclostationary differentio-integral-quadratic equations.the genius so defined, need not be an uncanny flair for conceptual programming.i for one can at will, conjure both.and i am continually humbled and amazed by the simplistic yet forceful genius of those that i know who can't.

these, i claim are the brilliant.they are evil.and they are innocent, and they are ignorant.they do not suffer greatly of the age of madness.and they can rule this world.and, were it in my power,i would let them.

the intellectuals you might already be familiar with.they are the infantile jesus(es) and moses(es) and budda(s) of our generation.they can willingly oscillate between being intellectual and brilliant.and they are all psychotic.i, believe you me, should know.

these, i claim are the intellectual.they are evil.and they do not have the luxuary of ignorance, or innocence.they need to contend themselves with denial and ego.they suffer immensely intense depression and agony in each of their reigns of madness.and they need to rule the world, as much as vonneagut needs to be god.and, were it were in my power,i would let them.
the two seperately are but severely disturbed people.the brilliant don't show it and the intellectuals don't really care to hide it.but as a unified uninhibited entity are the cause of grand resonance and singularity.beautiful beautiful singularity.i eagerly await mine.

if only you knew what it meant.if only you knew what it felt like.
i wish we hadn't let our prophets go to waste.

i wish i needn't feel the need to wish for anything at all.

b bhusan ver 1.1 condemned for life

why did we let our prophets go to waste?
there are too many to identify, and dutifully acknowledge, aren't there?too many to find, yet, ironically enough, not many enough.
a good friend of mine, is gravely suffering now.he is not so much a plain friend, as he is a denied confidant.
i have known in my meager but far-too-long-lived-life, a simple yet small fraction of humanity: that were capable of independence from it.
i whole heartedly wish that i was orthogonal to time and space.if only you knew what that meant.if only you knew what that felt like.
i am not gifted enough with words to express it well enough.nor, might i add, are you gifted enough to compherend my unremarkable explaination of the same.
as pink floyd so beautifully put it:i can't explain, you would not understand (this is not how i am).
as i stated before, life has become unremarkable to me.it has little to offer me still.
my delusions of superiority are fading.they lost all their base reasoning in one grand strike from a pair, of conjured gods.i shall not explain. you will not understand.
i wish that you knew what independence truly signifies.i wish that you could free your inhibited will.that would lead to: free will.
i wish that death would be done with me.no, i do not wish to die.i care not for suicide.
i just plainly wish to be put out of my misery.it is unfortunate that it has come to be synonymous with death.but things are as the are.and i exercise little, if no bearing at all, on them.
i seem to want to express, to you, the wonderful numbers i have known.seven. and seventeen. they are divine.i, i'm afraid, am anything but.
the forbiddances of simple connectivity.the sacrifices we unknowingly make; so as to be accepted as part of human society.
we are born without our rights as living beings.we are compensated, so to speak, for those sacrifices; by humanly invented rights.it is much along the lines of having your parents murdered and being offered cello-tape for your troubles.as worthy compensation for it.
lately, i had taken to watching cartoons all day.it seemed the appropriate thing to do.in this world full of inexaustable suffering and pain, what better haven is there, than the innocence so intended for the only innocent that remain.
superstars and cannon balls are running through your head,television freak shows; cops and robbers everywhere,animals and children tell the truth; they never lie,which one is more human; there's a thought now you decide.
it's a song.it's savage garden.i wish their name didn't so rightly represent the state of the world.but it does.and i appologise for it.
as i was saying of my friend.he is suffering, in pain as he is.and i, in all my glorious power, am utterly incapaple of helping him.
and i want to.to state to him, simple reassurances.to undo the effects of lonliness.
i should know.i grew up on lonloness.not in lonliness, mind you.but quite simply, on it.
i wish kurt vonneagut could be god.if only for a day, if only for an instant.i embody the characters in his stories, as i embody all characters in all stories i read.and i find my self happier in most of them, even the scary ones.
i have long since out grown my family.those that remain, are mere shadows of the shadows they were before.i wish that wilbur daffodil-2 swain would christen me a daffodil-17.i suspect that i will be happier, if not perpetually extatic.
i have meager expectations of life.or whatever is left of it.
i think, the remainder of my life; i'd like to spend in the uninhibited ambiance,of someone i need not tolerate.i'd like to spend it, watching cartoons and movies, eating french fries and chips.and ice cream, if i may be so bold.
i tire of the devious games i play, of the continual psycho-analysis i find myself doing.i want not to bother with them any more.i want to be imbuned with ignorance and innocence.i want to be left alone.please don't leave me alone.
this friend i spoke of is evil, and i mean that in no uncertain terms.and so, i'm afraid, am i.and so, i'm afraid, is everyone i like.it's not uncommon. intelligence breeds evil.and i am far too intelligent for my own good.
i, as half of one united genius, came up with the wondorous classification of the people i like.it is simple in it's definition and inherently beautiful.and it is this. people i like are either: brilliant or intellectual.
the concept, i shall make a conscious effort to explain.there are those that are ignorantly geniuses.and i have seen that these very ones, are innocently geniuses.this language, i'm afraid, makes that distinction.these are the brilliant. the ignorant-innocent-geniuses.
the genius so defined, need not be a knack for solving cyclostationary differentio-integral-quadratic equations.the genius so defined, need not be an uncanny flair for conceptual programming.i for one can at will, conjure both.and i am continually humbled and amazed by the simplistic yet forceful genius of those that i know who can't.
these, i claim are the brilliant.they are evil.and they are innocent, and they are ignorant.they do not suffer greatly of the age of madness.and they can rule this world.and, were it in my power,i would let them.
the intellectuals you might already be familiar with.they are the infantile jesus(es) and moses(es) and budda(s) of our generation.they can willingly oscillate between being intellectual and brilliant.and they are all psychotic.i, believe you me, should know.
these, i claim are the intellectual.they are evil.and they do not have the luxuary of ignorance, or innocence.they need to contend themselves with denial and ego.they suffer immensely intense depression and agony in each of their reigns of madness.and they need to rule the world, as much as vonneagut needs to be god.and, were it were in my power,i would let them.
the two seperately are but severely disturbed people.the brilliant don't show it and the intellectuals don't really care to hide it.but as a unified uninhibited entity are the cause of grand resonance and singularity.beautiful beautiful singularity.i eagerly await mine.
if only you knew what it meant.if only you knew what it felt like.
i wish we hadn't let our prophets go to waste.i wish i needn't feel the need to wish for anything at all.
i wish i had some chips.and some ice cream if i may be so bold.

b bhusan ver 1.0 myopic

humanity is so bound by culture, that it cannot see beyond what they are expected to or for that matter what they want to.it seems they put so much into being the prototype socially acceptable being that they loose out upon their induviduality.they give it up -without so much as a second thought- so they may claim acceptance of those they neither care of or are cared by.so now we have society feeding off our induviduality so that you and i may be put in catogeries, sent off for insignificant matters and claimed to be, "oh! so like-one-another."having forsaken ourselves, our characters to serve a 'greater good of society', we go ahead with the idea that the same should, no, must be promoted and strictly adheared to.social-norms? run amock. so now we find people belonging to catogeries and classes of wealth judging you for you mere existance, for your insanities and you lack of willingness -and infact- endless exictment to serve the cruel world.
the worst of expressions that one may apply to another are not of hate, anger or wrath.the ugliest most horrid of emotions that scar another's being, is embaressment, pity and vain sympathy.the go beyond normal suffering, they imply upon the person's lack of understanding, their fake-sympathies and their ill behaviour.don't they see? don't they recognize the beastly behaviour they choose to exdhibit to their betters.a thing, one of the things, that seers dread is their lack of understanding of the brutes, their inability to conjure reason and logic for their actions.dreadful things they are. dreadful things they do. and so much for understanding it.
this probably fits this situation best: "sanity, leave me,leave me, leave me now."

Sacrifice?..grow up!!!

A friend of mine told me tat to achieve success it is neccessary to sacrifice something very dear to us.... In other words u cant have your cake and eat it too.
Why is this? Are we incapable of handling two of our desirable occupations with equal ease. Or is it written in the grand scheme of things that " Ye Man arnt meant to have but one thing u desire!"
Certainly not.... So what cld be the reason the all seeing eye shall not permit us in indulging as we desire...the whole point of sacrifice is worthless... sacrifice is an excuse for not been able to rise to the occasion or deal out enuf maintanance,hence losin out on the cheque....
let us simplify it though...why should it be termed a sacrifice if u r indeed giving it up for a more favourable or desirable objective, and thus ennobling it....wat u did was a calculated elimination of the leaner diet. So, basically it is a question of cushioning the conscience and sugarcoating your inability to pump out the goods at a consistent rate to two destinations....
So...there is no sacrifice, only an elimination of a target that is not feasible when compared to the primary target!!!

morphine for the mind

i have always considered myself to be a reasonable man....i am seldom emotional and my reactions are calculated ....always...even my passion and spontanity are products of intense delibration...this has been me for some time now.
I have obviously not been like this for all my life. There was a time when i was intriuged by life and its mystery...wondering and marvellin at its beauty...a beauty tat was as much a product of it unpredictable nature as my innocence. But somewhere along the line, it changed. all of sudden someone unknowingly spilled the beans, tat everything is controlled by some predefined parameter, a variable or a trigger. Everything can be planned and more importantly everyone can be. It is sad to think that freewill of people itself is a product of someone elses will.
That is when i began to realise how easy it is for one to be moved or around by strings, just a puppet in someone elses hand. A harmless toy in the hand of a pezzonovante. But a life as a toy is still entertaining, u get the feelin of being in control when u are actually actin out from one elses script. But once the truth dawns upon u, u are gripped by an unquenchable thirst to be in control of as many elements as u can, to play someone just to exercise and display to urself how to play god.
But its rammifications are even more depressing. like an unending loop or vicious circle. just as one wonders how each tot is preceded by a tot of havin a tot, u realise tat the primary tot the trigger lies not withus but somewhere outside us. This meanin tat every action is a stimulated one by an external source....so if u can crack the tot process of a person, u can always manipulate and hold the strings. safe in ur ensconce but still controllin the environs...
This is theoretically suppose to enrich my life coz i havin realised this shd be able to control a majority of the elements....but it has depleted my life of all its passion, innocence and all the smaller joys in life begin to have lesser significance with each passing day. Havin openned the pandora's box i am stuck in the dilemma, wondering if i wish to be in someone elses control and pass the buck in exchange of smaller joys, or live the dream with no happiness... wat is worth more???

random thoughts of a listless mind

As the entire city makes yet another effort to seek peacewith itself and its environs iam stuck once more in an unsuccessful attempt to freeze time and undo the changes that time has inflicted upon my insignificant life.

As i embrace life in a vain attempt to live it to its fullest, my rival instincts fight them and unforgiving forces of nature like time and love. i bear witness to this oscillation of moods as the city joins me in pain with the droplets of rain crashing against my window almost in reflection of my innerself which is pounded by blood as i ponder on....
Is it worth carrying on???