cowards...

humility may not have got anythin' to do with bein' nice. even bein' nice may not have got anythin' to do with nice either. most of us are nice not just because we really are nice... but because we all make mistakes.. stupid mistakes which we know could have no way been made. but here we all 're. idiots. n' in those times we need someone to see just us ignorin' those mistakes. tellin' us the words which we need to hear. forgivin' us. apologizin' is just another way of requestin' them to say that "it's ok". approval junkies. that's who we're. we act n' we only think our actions carry consequences. but no. they also carry deep n' prfound anticipation. anticipation of an approval. it carries fear. deep down the roots fear. fear of opposition. n' it's a constant battle of psychosis in this transition till a consequence results. we don't really feel really nice till we receive that one word of appreciation even from the last nobody. n' only because we're weak to our bones... cowards to our hearts... confused as a milkshake... our niceness is just our defense mechanism to cover our bloody asses. it's sad. but i might be beginnin' to think that the nicer the person is.... the more incompetent he's. he's someone who has lost a lot of his battles... in general he's a loser. all in all... he's just a hypocrite.... an imposter. he's tryin' to fool you all..... to cover up his weaknesses... to disguise his faults... just foolin' around.


well the poor keep gettin' hungry
n' the rich keep gettin' fat
politicians change
but they never gonna change that.
but you n' me girl
we got the answer right in our hands
all we gotta do is

well the winds of war are blowin'
n' the tide is comin' in
don't you be hopin' for the good times
because the good times have already been
but girl we got the answer
so easy you won't believe
all we gotta do is

It's so easy, to see
If only they'd listen, to you and me.
We got to.. as fast as we can
We got to.. every woman, every man
We got to.. time after time
We got to.. vodka and lime.

well the world is gettin' weary
n' it wants to goto bed
everybody's dyin'
except the ones who're already dead
the answer we all are seekin'
is starin' right at our face
all we gotta do is

n' just like that...

i didn't laugh. she didn't laugh either. we were both laughless... formin' an auditorium of words within each other... tryin' to make an exit through just one 2 by 2 door. bottlenecked words are mostly inaudible.

the wrong was committed. we're responsible. no. maybe just me. it's not the guilt which is killin' me now but it's the consequences. n' the changes which encircle the periphery. my denial was weird. it wore the mask of rudeness. blame it on me. the anger was majorly bafflin'. because there wasn't any point. but i knew it was the grief. bargainin' was misunderstanin'. depression was tryin' to hide its way. acceptance was majorly pronounced. she apparently wasn't grievin'. what i meant by that was to me... she wasn't. it's just that i can't make such a statement because that would suggest i was majorly bold. you don't want to be bold. boldness has it's own drawbacks. in my case. it ends up in solvin' math problems mostly related to permutation n' combination n' sometimes even probability. n' that's another thing you don't want to do. you don't want to do math.

n' it's kind of funny when you're tryin' hard to swallow your anger. not even swallowin'. it's like schedulin' it to sometime later as you don't want to lose these moments now. n' that's actually nice. even romantic.

an ode to bolivian marchin' powder

it's a funny feelin' huh... you feel for someone n' then you don't feel for someone else. you make it look... as if you can't. n' you simply qualify for eternal mercy of a minuscule time frame... where you know you've not acted anythin' different.... or at times when you look back you tend to realize you were two times stupider than you normally are. but still somethin' works out which never works n' is known for that. narrow skies drown you... n' you tend to swin deep. most often it doesn't work n' you defy the whole world. it's a hind sight... it's stressful. it's alarmingly risky n' exceedingly liable to deter your esteem. it's unpredictible... it's unsure. in most cases it's a lie... n' in the others it's just ignorance of the truth. it's a loss of control... n' a permanent need of a dependency. it's makes you grow weak... it makes you grow lonelier. it's non-existent... it's confusin'. n' except for the fact that it doesn't feel so, it's positively borin' n' depressin'.

i hate honesty...

a forced dream. an uninvited night. a very long day. wasted surprise. a brilliant headache.. with just a book in your hand with a lot of words n' a pocketful of vocabulary tryin' your best to cope up with your difficulty n' to still enjoy everythin' written.

do you?

do you look at the guy who runs after a movin' bus to get on it? do you still feel like lookin' to know if got in or not? do you look at him if in case he doesn't make it? don't stop doin' it man... i think it's really sweet.

just kiddin'

either it starts rotatin' the opposite direction or it stops totally.. but it's definitely somethin' different from the normal. sometimes... it's just a cliff hanger... on-your-little-finger-of-your-left-hand-cliff-hanger. n' only thing you can look for is not a reachin' hand but nature turnin' off the gravity feature. not against gravity though... but thinkin' about it. it has indeed given results to a lot of things n' focussin' on biproducts.. it has given concepts like lookin' down on someone... or pushin' someone to move ahead... because the entities like up n' down are just not factors decided by height.. height itself would have meant nothin' had there been no gravity... we're either afraid of heights or we're too afraid of livin' low. the whole concept of laughter is actually flavoured by gravity infact.. or otherwise you'd have laughed like a bastard... when your cheeks wouldn't have felt pulled or your stomach spasmed when you laughed so hard. thinkin' further.... a joke on the moon would have been 6 times less funnier than on the earth!

makes sense actually. the massless always floats.. n' never falls from grace!

p.s. no. it actually doesn't make sense.

somethin' to share...

sometimes people ask me why do i leave all of a sudden? they ask why n' they almost make me believe that they really would like to know that... as if it's the last thing that's left unknown to them n' they'd really like to figure it out... as if knowin' this would make their lives better n' they'd not ask the second question.... "but why?"... i find it funny. i find it funny because they all make it look all so complicated as if it were some fuckin' indefinite integral calculus problem which was left unsolved by newton himself. no man it ain't that difficult to understand if all you cared a little in the first place to see the answer which was always floatin' around. i like the fact when people miss me or atleast when the believe that they do. i like it. i like the fact that they think everythin' would end in smoke when i'm no longer to be seen anymore as i'm no longer there. why can't they understand that i don't like the fact to be ignored n' live like a stranger all the time when i'm still fuckin' there n' nobody gives a shit. i mean why wouldn't i try to make it just the opposite n' when i do succeed in doin' that.. why're they curious.. where did the confusion package come from.. can't you see it's so fuckin' simple!

wish i weren't...

what you hide is your weakness. because in rare occasions you'll come across people who'll hide their strengths. n' i term it rare when i know i'm wrong because i don't think i'll find anyone who'll do so. given a situation or even without... the strength will be displayed.. not without knowledge.. but with vital deliberateness. n' i'm writin' this because i want to confess no matter how glamorous or glorious i became or maybe i wanted to become... all i was doin' was nothin' different or nothin' out of the box. i was just hidin' my weaknesses. n' that's where you put a period. nothin' glamorous or nothin' glorious to add.

i was slapped hard tonight in the place where i stay with a couple of strangers. i was slapped n' yelled at. my glasses got dislodged from my specs. i was beaten because i refused to give the magazine i bought to a 40 year old guy. n' i didn't do anythin'. not only because i couldn't which i couldn't. but i didn't. i didn't even protest... didn't make any elegant defense to counter the assault. i just stood by my point n' didn't give the magazine. by reason i proved later why i was logical n' why he wasn't. that wasn't difficult for me. but i knew... i couldn't have done anythin'. later he apologized but that didn't make me feel any better. i knew i had no part in that. he chose to feel bad about it later. n' even practically... he slapped me in front of people.. he said sorry when everyone was asleep.

but that slap had made me realize one thing... all these times i was tryin' to hide from all the people... i wasn't lookin' for somethin' different or doin' anythin' different.... i was just tryin' to hide all my incompleteness.. all the could have beens that people might still think i've.. all my weaknesses that they don't know that i've. maybe i'll still do the same. maybe i'll. but the worst part.. i still have to wake up tomorrow.. face the people who laughed at me in the other room after i was slapped n' of course the one who did it. how weak i'm... n' is there a limit to it.. because i still choose to be the same person. sorry is all i can tell myself.. as there had been so many nights like these i've passed just with shaky hands n' tremblin' tears.... as i know there couldn't be anythin' else apart from them n' an apology. i'm both ashamed of myself n' feel pity as well.. contradictin' huh!

let me just write...

# the greatest piss off-er for me. few men queuin' near the wash basin n' someone standin' in the side rushes in... overtakin' you makes his way ahead. n' you see him hand bathin' for the next ten minutes. (yeah maybe your ride to mars, your hometown, is just about to leave. "okay jackie boy! take my way to have yours!")

# the greatest embarrassment for me. have you ever got yourself alone in some place when you make sure there's nobody around you.. particularly nobody seein' you... so that you can take your time to pick your nose.. which has to be done.. (i mean there are things pilin' up inside... n' by now.. it's gettin' difficult to breathe.. i mean what do you expect. i let myself die just because it doesn't look that nice when you pick your nose. not happenin'.. i can't help if you feel bad but i'm pickin' my nose.) n' just after you've spent sometime inside your nose... your fingers carefully n' delicately pulls out a semi-solid or semi-liquid lump of that mess out of your nose.. yeah i'm talkin' about those semi-solid or semi-liquid n' not the dry ones. the dry ones are too easy to pluck out n' you don't need isolation for that. the wet ones.. n' just when they're partially out of your nose.. somebody.. some loser-dick-headed-super-fucked-personality walks in. (i mean what were you doin'.. hidin' behind the curtains so that you can enter in the exact moment when you can embarrass me the most) n' there's no way you can hide.. that thing is like halfway in the air.. caught between your fingers n' your nose..(n' if you think hard.. that's poetic as well) but no way you don't make no effort to hide.. n' that adds to the climax of your embarrassment.

# the greatest fun thing for me. have you ever seen the faces of men when they're watchin' a hot girl passin' them by. it need not even be real. even a poster of a half naked woman can do the trick. have you ever seen how they turn their heads back when their eyes can no longer keep the view in the range of their visibility. actually that's too poetic for me. men find it a little difficult to get on with their lives. but it's a little too easy for them to get turned on n' turn back. i must go back to my old theory. all men are pigs.

# a thing i'm not able to share with anyone but findin' it impossible to keep it with me. yeah i'm a sort of a person who loves bitchin' around... have done my graduation in gossipin' n' i'm very good in spreadin' rumours. someone is losin' his pubic hair in my office. yeah it's true. i don't know who he is.. i mean obviously.. duh! but there's definitely someone. i always see few of them in the urinal in my floor. i mean i've no clue how to react to that. is pubic hair loss somethin' to be cheered for...  because you don't need that hair anyway. ("no thank you!") but since it's a loss.. do i have the right to feel happy without consultin' that person. n' it's such a mystery. somethin' i can't find out... somethin' i can't talk about... n' it's definitely not a kind of secret i'd want to take it to my grave... (no thank you!)

where were you before and what are you doin' now?

sometimes the world gets so smart.... n' always much to your likin'.... you've got like no clue how did it happen... as if some over night miracle. every pause... every coma in a sentence.. every act of rephrasin' lines... smiles... movement of the iris... infact every push of a button is traced right back n' right there. n' they come up with the right thing. clever bastards!

if the sun refuse to shine...

sometimes it's just so amusin'... not to stand in the waitin' room. only if i could wish to clear my intentions just like i clear my throat... n' no matter how vague they might be... just the mere thoughts of all the could-be's are strong enough to drive me crazy. sometimes i press the letters in the keyboard like they play a piano n' i don't understand why. thinkin' of burnin' hot skin n' eyes lookin' at the right hand side of the menu makes me smile. i sincerely feel wantin' to grab a cute ass is just an expression of honesty n' not bein' pervert. findin' silo wasn't so bright today... but oh how my heart longs for a cabana n' i wonder when i find it.

dazed but not confused!

n' i wish if only these feelings were makin' me happy only if they could have.. maybe then.. i could have written words with conjuncted grammar n' tell everyone the state or the lack of it i'm through everytime n' again.. but it's life i know... n' like everytime.. it's large. but i know i'm surrounded.. n' i can breathe when i know i've drowned. n' it's the darkness which i can see now which is beautiful more than the light... which reminds me to forget all the eclipses which have clouded maybe more than me... n' shall i be able to believe when i tend to... that after a lifetime of turnin'... it's magical to be the rock without the roll!

lessons missed!

i've learnt nothin'... n' i'm so shameless to admit it n' it makes me even more shameless when i say i'm doin' practically nothin' to make myself learn. i guess it's hard when you know you've got somethin' really to learn.. you know what to learn.. but you know you can't.

maybe the only thing i did learn... the simple is somewhat easy.. n' the complicated.. well it's most of the times difficult... so the simple thing is.. to pull the simple things near you n' push the rest awayyyy... i've almost spent an eon to realize it.. i just hope i don't have to spend another just to make myself convinced that it's actually easy!

scared...

i'm scared... i'm so scared... oh please please oh please... please take care of everythin' god... just want to get rid of the fear... please take me through... please.. please. i beg.

ironies.. just too many

severe phone hatred... microwave kisses. love n' breakups... hate n' tie ups. gravity n' elevators. exhausted n' refreshed. symbolic hyphens... bodyaches n' reiki... crowded gardens... abandoned libraries... observed stairways... sex with helmets... sleep in exams... daydream in the nights... vegetarian eggs... romantic economics!

p.s. n' just wait n' wait n' wait..... sigh!

can i talk like this for a while?

elevators in supermarket... almost sound rhythmic. sad... poets don't use them in sonnets. i proved newton right again. the action-reaction-affair. i was goin' down.. n' my blood was rushin' up. i was suspended in the air for just about a minute... with just two hopes... the door never openin' again... n' my senses never landin' in sanity. but i can't even regret even when they both did.... even when i never had enough. i found out that love tastes salty even though lovers claim it to be sweet. don't blame them. maybe love tastes different when is in a motion with a acceleration of 9.8m/sec/sec.

does it always have to do with your heart when people talk about love n' its consequences n' all the canonical forms exhibitin' polymorphism... because right now... it's just my feet which hurt. maybe it's just too poetic.. i'm the footloose man who've lost his mind!

sad but true...

# the first hug can be in the most complicated situations whatsoever... when you think you're standin' just before the end of somethin' which you don't want to end.. after long-hour-tearful-phonecalls... while you're still in the transition phase of panic attack n' post traumatic syndrome.. while you feel there's a lot of space between you n' her.. literally speakin' ofcourse.. n' she does it quite abruptly again without any prior notice/agenda.. n' you're supposed to reciprocate/react/respond which you do.. only to get a review sometime later... "you were quite stiff!!" :(

# the long-awaited-first-whatever that you've planned for weeks could turn out to be disastrous... the open air restaurants can close down without any prior notice/agenda or any apparent reason... the sun can shine really bright n' you've distances to walk.. n' then she can turn out to be the most intelligent woman on the planet when you want to have a sweet conversation n' the lunch just a side dish :(

# she-who-says-loves-you-the-most can cuddle a puppy in the same way she cuddles you. but you don't feel that way.. what you feel... she-who-says-loves-you-the-most cuddles a puppy with more passion n' intensity than the way she cuddles you :(


but sadness seems to be fine till now.. as the only word that comes to my mind when i think about everythin'... PERFECT!!! just PERFECT!!!! :)

you don't get it... you don't get it!!!!

the factor which makes a lot of contribution to make a girl is called estrogen... but the problem is... even when there's a deficiency of this factor.. they're still called girls.. n' you've like no clue about it unless you get involved!!! but still.. blame in on the guy... because that's how you do it!!!!

madhatter knows what i'm talkin'.. because poor him.. victim of the same deficiency.. n' yeah.. this is funny.. the guy becomes the victim when the girl lacks the estrogen!!! the usual conversation between madhatter n' his girlfriend were of the likes as below:

mad girl: i want to feel just the way you feel..
madhatter: ok (what the fuck?!)
mad girl: you can give everythin' to me so easily... when i know i'm just takin' takin' n' takin'...
madhatter: but you give everythin' to me..
mad girl: but i wanna give more... just like you do.. i wannna feel the same as you do..

n' the rest.. are all those words which a guy wants to speak but can never never never speak...

what the fuck is wrong with you.. do you think i really care what you feel or don't.. just let me feel what i want to feel.. i mean please!!!!!!!! damn you.. "i'm just takin' takin' n' takin'.." you wanna give.. fine.. i'm always out of money.. give me a cheque.. a big amount.. n' i'll make you feel like nobody else.. n' everyone's happy... i mean fuck you!!!!!!! :P

but we're still alive...

What is this gypsy passion for separation, this
readiness to rush off when we've just met?
My head rests in my hands as I
realize, looking into the night

that no one turning over our letters has
yet understood how completely and
how deeply faithless we are, which is
to say: how true we are to ourselves.

-- Marina Tsvetayeva

the law of recedin' sanity...

most relationships are absurd. the only thing that makes this statement unreal is the "most" part.. all relationships are absurd. they're weired. they're illogical. they're not rational. the only thing which makes them work is the part that we don't know about it. as soon as we figure it out... it goes apart. but that isn't a bad thing actually.. it's not supposed to mean somethin' negative. we can survive a relationship even if we find the irrational part n' know how to ignore it. i know it's desperate.. but most relationships are. sometimes just too much honesty can kill a relationship. maybe sometimes a hair color can threat its existence. it's just actually a refusal of self belief that you're alone. the part which you don't like. it's a simple blasphemy of the fact that you're miserable.. maybe that's what we all are meant to be. relationship is our unwillingness to accept the obvious.. but i guess there's nothin' wrong in it.

p.s. maybe i'll step backwards from perfection.. n' you walk towards it!!!! if we meet we'd know we were on the same track...

alive...

n' it wasn't even spring this time. i thought you'd wait till spring. because that's when everythin' ends for me. not this time. funny if i think in that way... took so many nights to make believe myself. it just took one single night to let go everythin'. last night was such a big robber. it just took away everythin' i had.. everythin' i could have. there are times when you know the only reason you're alive is because you're not dead. hadn't been my life filled with those times.. it'd have been so empty.

i know...

i know this. every emotion.. every breath.. the movement of my pupils... the trail my tears take... i know your words even before you speak.. i know how you feel.. even before you feel 'em. more precisely.. i know you.. all of you... it's like knowin' you more than i know myself. but still... i know me as well.. i just don't know why... i just don't know why. i've been nice to all of you... n' the price i pay to be so is my life.. i always end up losin' the part i love the most of it.. n' i do.. everytime.. each time. i know how the air feels now.. i know how the songs ring in the ears now.. i know how the pillow cover will try to embrace you because there's no one else. i know this long walk.. it's just me.

the analysis of me was perfect.. this is where everyone goes wrong. this is the part.. the un-understood.. the misread.. the unexplained....

all the times i keep on tellin' i hate myself.. i do. it's not what it sounds. it's not a lie either. but you don't get it. you don't get that it also means i love myself.. i love the way i'm. i don't feel anythin' to be ashamed of me which makes me. i love the way i feel.. i love the way i see things.. i love the way i understand or try to understand everythin'. i love the softness within me.. i love the goodness in me.. i love when i know i can make a difference.. i love when i can make everyone happy. i don't see anythin' in my life which i should give up.. n' that's the reason i don't. the fact that i still hate myself is because... after everythin'.. i just couldn't do anythin' for me.. not a single thing.. n' i keep on hurtin' myself. n' still do it. n' that's a good enough reason to hate anyone.. it's just me.. so i hate myself.

n' all the other times i keep on tellin' i deserve what i get.. i lie. i don't think i deserve so much of pain every time. i never meant anyone harm.. even to people who meant nothin' but just harm. yeah.. that's true. but this is what it ends with.. i endin' up cryin' in the staircase.. n' wipe my tears as i come down so that not a single soul can make out. no. i don't deserve this.

n' now i refuse. i refuse everythin'. i refuse this world. i refuse these people. i refuse myself too. i know how to grow old.. n' i think i was doin' all fine. life interfered. that's all. it's not gonna interfere again. i won't let it.

n' lately...

under the rugs was the reader n' he came out. dust. it's been more than a quarter n' a half month n' still not over 50 pages. busy? and i was born in the boredom and the chowder. awake. still feels like a dream. i sleep after swimmin' in my own bed.. not with thoughts but with love. n' lately i've been tainted.. still hoverin' around the raucous boundaries of my sanity. my vocabulary inflicted by yours. will... surrendered.

can't stop smilin'... just can't

was i hidin' from you... or maybe i don't like your face.. or am i too scared to show you mine.. n' again here we're.. sittin' with eyes which don't want to look into one another. was i tryin' to find the exception.. the anomaly? maybe a little too hard... n' probably i was seein' it.. where there was none. i drift.. but i retreat. i relentlessly feed my weaknesses.... shamelessly bury my regrets when i swallow my own ego... i ain't ashamed to accept defeat. n' yeah...this is me.

dear one who still keeps her king in the back row

n' the reason i might sound an offbeat poet for a while is only because that's how i sound when i'm in the realms of hopelessness... n' do i have to raise my finger to point at you... to let you know that "you're the one" who has victimized me oh so deeply.. that i never want to get out of this sickness? ..n' now it's left to you... how you take the you-are-the-one part... you become the accused if you take that superficially.. n' you become everythin' else includin' the accused.. if you take it a little more deeply!!! in either case... you remain responsible for my condition!!!

n' so my childhood had got nothin' to do with fairy tales if your want of knowin' me inside out is still on... the reason is mostly left unknown to me.. partly undisclosed.. but i never liked the way it rhymed so well... not that i had any ill feelings with rhymes... but maybe my parity with indulgence on worldly acceptance of most matters like the way they should have been was highly restrained.. n' i'm not quite sure what the last sentence really meant.. (but sounded cool huh?.. n' who knows.. must have meant somethin'.. maybe exactly what i wanted to!!).. so don't feel dumb if you didn't understand it.. your status of dumbnesshood has got nothin' to do with it.. it's way too independent n' fairly intact!!!! so it's firmly established that i didn't like them.. even with or without satisfyin' your immortal thirst to conquer all the why's even if it's related to my neighbour's wife.

i like stories without any rhymes.. the ones which are thoroughly stupid. i like them because it reminds me of all my dreams that i had of a girl... my girl. n' she's so hard to find.. n' even when i get her.. i'm so sure i can't get enough of her... she's like so lesbian.... that i can never turn her on... n' if you think it's depressin'... then better don't think at all. i'm not depressed. she wants to grow fat.. yes you heard it. she believes thighs aren't thighs at all if they're not equipped with lumps of flesh... n' she thinks her ass is the only precious thing she has got. her memories from the past makes her a cold blooded bird hater. obsessed with names people might think of her.. i'd say she's just obsessed... n' when she's not obsessed... she's obsessed with names. her monkey she sleeps with... the eggs which had fallen in her balcony.. the bike she rides so awfully... the fish which died sometime back... her last week's diapers.. i mean all have names.. all thought-about-over-n'-over-again kind of names. she wants to marry a tamilian n' yeah.... she wants to think i'm gay.

i mean yeah.. a thousand words can't say what a picture can... but a lot few words can draw a thousand pictures n' a simple math would prove they'll say more... the description was word perfect if not picture perfect. n' the hardest part is the waitin' part... because she's always busy in her plays n' the rest of the time... she takes exams.. she's still takin' one when i've none to attend!

descriptively yours,
....

unhaiku!!

pamper moonlight
teardropped sunrise

secrets from supernova
speak let go
through the microphone

3-2-1
"Play" - the song.
know not dancin'
will you dance with me.

hold the phone
beneath the sheet
i roll on my bed
upside down

powdered blood
begins to flow back
nostalgic heart
forgets to beat

stay don't go
but i see the mirror
still hold me close
will you leave me not

changin' colors

so how shall i put this one?? have i changed colors.. or it's just my true colors showin'. i feel great... maybe i'm even happy of what i'm doin'. should i i-don't-know-it. sometimes i wonder... is it my fear to know the true answers.. or am i bein' just lazy. maybe both. so let me ignore the ewww's n' the why-the-inferiority-complex shit.. it's actually shit anyway! n' i thought i was the only one who's scared.. maybe people are lot more scared than me.. they're even scared of changes.. but i know they'll accept them when it becomes a cliche.. poor them! you already have my condolences people!

you.. just you

n' was i drenched by the downpour of your radiance? ...when my senses still etch with the dryness of yesterday. was i soaked in my own far-crossed-the-line panic breathings? ...each one more intensified than the previous... the need to stop them was just a thought of an afterthought.

corals... i thought of corals when i saw you ...even when my sanity proclaims louder than my heart believes that i'm still alive.. that i'vent... but still... i felt our thoughts clingin' onto one another. what were we thinkin'? ...n' were you lookin' for an answer? ...when all our thoughts drew perfect trapezes of confusion in the boundaries of vagueness.

n' i was standin' alone in the causeway to nowhere... n' i was seein' us as i looked into our shadows on the wall... when light was just like footsteps into the darkness... n' did we make the tango? ...in that flickerin' blanket of our existence... in the spaces of my thoughts serenaded by you.. just you.

there's a joy to borrow
n' i shall hide my sorrow

there's a weight to carry
n' there's no soul to bury.

carin' much like i do
runnin' nowhere i can go to

grayin' cells of tuesdays
shinnin' on my doorway...

knockin' on my backdoor
i rush to see the front one.

heart beats tend to falter
day light savings break the rhythm

when the ice is formin'
i've cut my fingers

we've started like strangers..
n' see how we've just ended like them.

ironies...

when they gave me life.. i mean my very own.... i wish it came in a singularity. because after years of solitude... i think i've grown enough to realize i was wrong. it was a given life with a lifetime of ironies. the most pronounce human trait amongst a million others is to completely ignore "what it is" n' wonder whole of their lives ponderin' about "how it should be".. although this statement is only reliable only if you believe it to be.. n' i do. n' i don't remember the first time when i got sick of this life.... tried to run away from it. not by takin' it away.. but just by runnin' away from it. can't quite explain how i did it.. but certainly i did it. n' i tried real hard to kill even the remotest symptoms of life in n' around.... n' still needin' to end up without dyin'. but maybe in this personal quest of mine.... i somehow managed to forget the ironies that prevail n' persist. it's easier to unsee or even ignore your own existence.. but it's almost never possible to escape any of those ironies. my action of runnin' away from life is actually makin' me more n' more alive... because i'm showin' the most pronounced human trait amongst a million others... ignorin' "what it is" n' tryin' to get hold of "how it should be". -- "irony.. isn't it?"

i chose the straightest lane down south n' drove as far i could. but my rearview mirror never fails to deceive me. sometimes i slam my backdoor n' go runnin' to see if there's someone in the front one. how hard can you try to forget everythin' what you remember.. when even a bleatin' goat or a pin drop acts as strong memory boosters...

life is sometimes so erotic

I’m uncomfortable about sex. Sex… could kill you. Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex? Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, espiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you’re lifting three times your body weight. It’s violent, it’s ugly, and it’s messy, and if God hadn’t made it unbelievably fun… the human race would have died out eons ago. Men are lucky they can only have one orgasm. You know that women can have an hour-long orgasm?

cellar door

relivin' this half life yet again... n' i have to because it's kind of short... can't hope in the lines of endurability or persistence n' so i mostly live in patterns... deliberate misobersations sometimes give me a way to see somethin' new. n' maybe after some 20 years of consumed consumption of myself... all these flashes seem so distant.. it doesn't even look like mine... like remote traces of gun powder from some ancient silo... a bergschrund of memory or somethin'.

i'm a ferris wheel junkie addicted to myself.... addicted of bein' someone else n' want others think that's me. mostly scared by the matters of reality eludin' myself from my kingdom of ghosts.

p.s. visitin' places don't always mean you feel at home there. sometimes you're too scared of not bein' invited never again. n' i was thinkin' i could have been popular as well if the first choices took a day off.

strange night...

there is somethin' strange about this night... although i'm qualifyin' it so probably in the most inappropriate time n' you must believe me when i say so. the distant memories pilin' up once again or might be just the wideness of my sleeplessness. some of them looked so far... it was a little hard for me to accept for a while that every one of them was actually a part of my own life. it was a bit different for me to just think about all the times when i waited... n' rememberin' it was fun... probably more so because now... i don't .

people still talk like this... they do.

In every game and con there is always an opponent and there is always a victim. The trick is to know when you're the latter, so you can become the former.

It's very simple. You do all the hard work, I just help you along. The art is for me to feed pieces to you and make you believe you took those pieces, because you are smarter and I am dumber. In every game and con there is always an opponent and there is always a victim. The more control the victim thinks he has, the less control he actually has. Gradually he will hang himself. I, as the opponent, just help him along.

The formula has infinite depth in its efficacy and application, but it is staggeringly simple and completely consistent.

Rule one of any game or con: You can only get smarter by playing a smarter opponent.

Rule number two. The more sophisticated the game, the more sophisticated the opponent.

If the opponent is very good, he will place his victim inside an environment he can control. The bigger the environment, the easier the control. Toss the dog a bone, find their weakness, and give them just a little of what they think they want.

So the opponent simply distracts their victim by getting them consumed with their own consumption. The word "snake" springs to mind. Don't knock it. You only get smarter by playing a snake.

The bigger the trick and older the trick, the easier it is to pull. Based on two principles. They think it can't be that old and they think it can't be that big, for so many people to have fallen for it. Eventually, when the opponent is challenged or questioned, it means the victim's investment and thus his intelligence is questioned. No-one can accept that, not even to themselves.

There is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will deny even exists, until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reason you get up in the morning. The only reason you suffer the shitty puss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. Fear or revere me, but please, think I'm special. We share an addiction. We're approval junkies. We're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. The hip-hip-hoo-fuckin' rah. Look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on you crazy diamond, because we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others.

do not ask why... because we live in a world where we cannot afford to believe the truths.

And how do I ignore that I have seen darkness for far too long before I stared or rather made to stare this light where my first feeling was fear unveiling my first expression with tearfuls of cry making gibberish efforts of breathing hearing the woes of the woman who gave me my own birth soaked in her blood which I claim to be my own just like my life which is supposed to be having a story with colors and my inabilities to recognize them explaining all my lifelong attempts of reckoning time and awarding myself yet another glorious glimpse of its failure narrating the tales of hope without faith remorse without forgiveness rainbow without colors and a name without any claim.