Running comes naturally to human beings; you see a tidal wave coming at your from the shoreline and you run. Why do you run? Self preservation is the only thought that truly comes to mind. But sometimes, in those rare occurrences, you actually just stand there and watch the wave and embrace the fact that its all going to end and no matter how fast or high you run, its never going to be enough to truly escape.
What makes people stand and face the music? Is it guilt? Is it acceptance? Is it the will to no longer succumb to what nature or god has to offer? Is it lack of worthy existence? That is something that has truly evaded me for the past 26 years of my life. I wish I had answers for some of the stupid decisions I have made in my life but I really don't. Sometimes its just better to face the music and do the dance, sure you'll lose a bit of that personal essence that makes you tick but its probably better for the overall learning experience. I would like to clarify that facing the music has nothing to do with giving up whats near and dear to your heart but actually taking the learning experiences for what they are ... learning experiences.
By this point my brain and hand are probably off in their own worlds typing and thinking with absolute monkey-filled symmetry but then again when have I ever done anything ingenious to truly call my own?
Music while writing this post - IGA Floor - Vol 1 - Sounds of a sinking ship
Mood - Totally rattled
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Choose Your Weapon Wisely
8:06 AM - IST - Bangalore
Guns for show, knives for a pro - Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels
I always wanted a gun when I was younger. They are easy to use; point, pull, bang and dead. The inherent problem with a gun is that the ammunition eventually runs out. The refill portion of the weapon makes it highly inefficient even if it is able to dispatch enemies with more ease than a knife.
I classify knives as a much more efficient class of weapons for many reasons. They offer range, more pain during death and require more mastery to outclass most other weapons. The amount of time and dedication required to learn the Bushido arts is one way of showing my love for knives. The amount of precision and patience required to wield a blade is evident in most cultures even the more brash ones.
The reason for this blog post is to illustrate the stupidity that I have been experiencing for the past three or four weeks. One of my 'so-called' friends has taken it upon himself to feel a bit more superior than the rest and for all reasons under the sun, I have allowed it. He once came to us with a problem that he felt incapable of making a come-back against the people he worked with and we offered a little support on the issue. I knew then just as I know now, that he is a gun-wielder. People with the narrow-mindedness always go for the quick approach and will even fire in the dark at times to make their point. To add to his compounded idiocy, my friend also feels that he has the ability to twist people's minds by simply text-ing them or by avoiding people to create bigger and more unavoidable scenarios. However, it is now reaching its event horizon and will eventually start bleeding into the parts of my personal life that I hold a bit more dear than the niceness i have chosen to exhibit.
Tread softly my friend, I have been sharpening my blade while you run around playing cowboy with the people I care about a lot.
Music Listened to while writing this blog - Texas - Halo
Mood - Calculative
Guns for show, knives for a pro - Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels
I always wanted a gun when I was younger. They are easy to use; point, pull, bang and dead. The inherent problem with a gun is that the ammunition eventually runs out. The refill portion of the weapon makes it highly inefficient even if it is able to dispatch enemies with more ease than a knife.
I classify knives as a much more efficient class of weapons for many reasons. They offer range, more pain during death and require more mastery to outclass most other weapons. The amount of time and dedication required to learn the Bushido arts is one way of showing my love for knives. The amount of precision and patience required to wield a blade is evident in most cultures even the more brash ones.
The reason for this blog post is to illustrate the stupidity that I have been experiencing for the past three or four weeks. One of my 'so-called' friends has taken it upon himself to feel a bit more superior than the rest and for all reasons under the sun, I have allowed it. He once came to us with a problem that he felt incapable of making a come-back against the people he worked with and we offered a little support on the issue. I knew then just as I know now, that he is a gun-wielder. People with the narrow-mindedness always go for the quick approach and will even fire in the dark at times to make their point. To add to his compounded idiocy, my friend also feels that he has the ability to twist people's minds by simply text-ing them or by avoiding people to create bigger and more unavoidable scenarios. However, it is now reaching its event horizon and will eventually start bleeding into the parts of my personal life that I hold a bit more dear than the niceness i have chosen to exhibit.
Tread softly my friend, I have been sharpening my blade while you run around playing cowboy with the people I care about a lot.
Music Listened to while writing this blog - Texas - Halo
Mood - Calculative
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Looking At The Sun
07:43 AM - PST
I've always wanted to own a house on the beach and now I finally have it. A patio that stretches for about 70 meters overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It doesn't really matter what country I am in because its all going to end eventually. Scientists have concluded that the sun is going to explode and there is nothing we can do to escape it. It has now been five weeks since this news was revealed to the public and I still haven't had time to sit down and enjoy a drink. With my girlfriend sleeping in bed, I figure its just a good time as any.
I wake up from bed and walk into my kitchen; I'm going to miss waking up and drinking coffee with my kitchen counter overlooking the ocean. I look at the Nescafe bottle sitting right next to the sugar jar and contemplate substituting my alcoholic desire for a cup of coffee. That thought is very short lived. I open a cabinet over the kitchen counter and pull out a bottle of Jack Daniels that I bought at a liquor store two days before we all got the 'great' news. The kitchen drawer opens with effortless ease as I pull a glass out and start to pour my drink into my glass. I walk over to my fridge for some ice; the salesperson said that it was supposed to make ice on the fly but this fridge has never been tested on this feature. I push the lever with my glass and out pops two ice cubes. Mildly satisfied with the number of ice cubes in my hand I go out on the patio and look at the ocean.
My sophomore year in college was great. Surf in the morning, beach volleyball in the afternoon and nights spent in bars socializing with a wide spectrum of people who won't mean anything to me in approximately ten minutes. I wonder what those people are doing right now? Some of them might be sitting in their houses praying to whatever God they were conditioned to believe since the age of two. Others are out on the ocean surfing the last few waves they are ever going to experience. Some might be busy making love to their spouses with the intention of taking that memory to the after-life. I purposely drugged my girlfriend's drink last night to have her sleep through this ordeal. I wonder if any of the people I went to college with are looking out at this ocean wondering what its like to have nothing better to do but drink some bourbon and stare idly at the approaching disaster.
As I turn around I look at the patio table I was conned into getting a week back. Some Chinese-looking woman told me it would bring balance in my chaotic life. With no hesitation in my mind, I picked it up. Its a simple wooden table with a glass top and two chairs that are rather relaxing. I wonder if that woman is still at the same store trying to sell more furniture to people passing by ... fucking sales people.
I look back into the house, the TV is on and some television presenter is on the screen. It's a re-run and that I can be assured of because its the same guy I have seen for three weeks now covering the fact that the world is going to end and there is nothing we can do about it. I see the same silly sketch of how the sun is going to engulf all the planets around it and from what I can tell, the initial effects will be painful but the end comes pretty soon.
I look back at the ocean, its started to happen. The water looks a bit misty, effects of heat. I can smell something burning, must be the table I am sitting at. I look at my glass of whiskey that I haven't touched since I got out on this patio. The two ice cubes are shrinking in size. I take a quick sip and notice something that hasn't bothered me since it started about three years ago. My skin has boils on it and I get the feeling that they are itching but I don't feel the need to scratch. Amazing how our sicknesses will teach us to face adversity. As I feel the first boil burst I let out a whimper and feel my eyes fill up with puss. I close whats left of my eyes and think my last thought ... Should have put more ice in the whiskey glass, I don't remember it ever tasting bad with three ice cubes.
Music Listened to While writing this blog - John Mayer - Gravity
Mood - Confused but happy that I am not angry
I've always wanted to own a house on the beach and now I finally have it. A patio that stretches for about 70 meters overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It doesn't really matter what country I am in because its all going to end eventually. Scientists have concluded that the sun is going to explode and there is nothing we can do to escape it. It has now been five weeks since this news was revealed to the public and I still haven't had time to sit down and enjoy a drink. With my girlfriend sleeping in bed, I figure its just a good time as any.
I wake up from bed and walk into my kitchen; I'm going to miss waking up and drinking coffee with my kitchen counter overlooking the ocean. I look at the Nescafe bottle sitting right next to the sugar jar and contemplate substituting my alcoholic desire for a cup of coffee. That thought is very short lived. I open a cabinet over the kitchen counter and pull out a bottle of Jack Daniels that I bought at a liquor store two days before we all got the 'great' news. The kitchen drawer opens with effortless ease as I pull a glass out and start to pour my drink into my glass. I walk over to my fridge for some ice; the salesperson said that it was supposed to make ice on the fly but this fridge has never been tested on this feature. I push the lever with my glass and out pops two ice cubes. Mildly satisfied with the number of ice cubes in my hand I go out on the patio and look at the ocean.
My sophomore year in college was great. Surf in the morning, beach volleyball in the afternoon and nights spent in bars socializing with a wide spectrum of people who won't mean anything to me in approximately ten minutes. I wonder what those people are doing right now? Some of them might be sitting in their houses praying to whatever God they were conditioned to believe since the age of two. Others are out on the ocean surfing the last few waves they are ever going to experience. Some might be busy making love to their spouses with the intention of taking that memory to the after-life. I purposely drugged my girlfriend's drink last night to have her sleep through this ordeal. I wonder if any of the people I went to college with are looking out at this ocean wondering what its like to have nothing better to do but drink some bourbon and stare idly at the approaching disaster.
As I turn around I look at the patio table I was conned into getting a week back. Some Chinese-looking woman told me it would bring balance in my chaotic life. With no hesitation in my mind, I picked it up. Its a simple wooden table with a glass top and two chairs that are rather relaxing. I wonder if that woman is still at the same store trying to sell more furniture to people passing by ... fucking sales people.
I look back into the house, the TV is on and some television presenter is on the screen. It's a re-run and that I can be assured of because its the same guy I have seen for three weeks now covering the fact that the world is going to end and there is nothing we can do about it. I see the same silly sketch of how the sun is going to engulf all the planets around it and from what I can tell, the initial effects will be painful but the end comes pretty soon.
I look back at the ocean, its started to happen. The water looks a bit misty, effects of heat. I can smell something burning, must be the table I am sitting at. I look at my glass of whiskey that I haven't touched since I got out on this patio. The two ice cubes are shrinking in size. I take a quick sip and notice something that hasn't bothered me since it started about three years ago. My skin has boils on it and I get the feeling that they are itching but I don't feel the need to scratch. Amazing how our sicknesses will teach us to face adversity. As I feel the first boil burst I let out a whimper and feel my eyes fill up with puss. I close whats left of my eyes and think my last thought ... Should have put more ice in the whiskey glass, I don't remember it ever tasting bad with three ice cubes.
Music Listened to While writing this blog - John Mayer - Gravity
Mood - Confused but happy that I am not angry
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