It's been 6 nice years on this blog. Writing. Dreaming. Sharing. Those who have been asked to read this are the ones who've stayed. Thank you.
In these years I have grown. A little wiser. A little crazier. The new EAC reflects that. I've done away with the clutter.
There is a LOT of white-space now. I love white-space. The darkness is gone. Everything is clearer, purer, simpler now. The new logo represents my obsession with simplicity. I've made it myself. I used Powerpoint.
No more fancy statistics or fancy gadgets, nothing. Only what I write
and what you read is on here. There are some nice sites I follow on the
sidebar as well, under the list of posts. You might like them.
All my posts are listed on the sidebar. Hence, no search bar. No links for comments either. Send me an email, or call, or message. Say "Hi.. Your posts suck, but the logo is nice", or something of that sort.
I've trying to write a book. It's in the works. The project is called 'The Green Peppermint", for lack of a better name and abundant laziness. You're free to mail your own ideas and opinions. I would love to hear them :)
Thank you for staying. Thank you for reading. There is a lot of stuff in the works. I hope I get the time to get it all out to you. Keep smiling, keep reading...
And stick around.
Showing posts with label Philosophy and thought. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Philosophy and thought. Show all posts
Saturday, April 20
8 count - By Charles Bukowski
from my bed
I watch
3 birds
on a telephone
wire.
one flies
off.
then
another.
one is left,
then
it too
is gone.
my typewriter is
tombstone
still.
and I am
reduced to bird
watching.
just thought I'd
let you
know,
fucker.
Monday, November 26
The Indian Arab who found a sword
He is the black sheep of his kind
And chooses not to see
The triviality of judgement and pursuit
In life's hypocrisy
The sword is blunt
His words do the work
His sword is blunt and harmless
But his mind is not
He chooses to wait
And think, and listen and share
His joyful moments, and those that were not
In order to prepare
He chooses simplicity
Over convolution and twisted circles
And wisdom over thought
And thought over judgement
Most often than not
He wishes to share his tales
And looks for an audience that is open
To opening their minds
To share back like he did
In order
To find...
And chooses not to see
The triviality of judgement and pursuit
In life's hypocrisy
The sword is blunt
His words do the work
His sword is blunt and harmless
But his mind is not
He chooses to wait
And think, and listen and share
His joyful moments, and those that were not
In order to prepare
He chooses simplicity
Over convolution and twisted circles
And wisdom over thought
And thought over judgement
Most often than not
He wishes to share his tales
And looks for an audience that is open
To opening their minds
To share back like he did
In order
To find...
Change
There was a time when I was a kid would judge myself based on
everyone's opinion of me. I had a loving family, and wonderful friends
in the middle east, where I grew up. When I reached India in the 9th
grade, everything changed.
I was introduced to a rigid educational system that focused on cramming, where excellence was based on grades, and I felt like I didn't fit in. Moreover, I lived away from my family and old friends and was finding a hard time to just 'fit'.
I got picked on. I was a think skinny little kid, among the shortest in my class. I was buck-toothed, tremendously shy, and preferred sitting by self in my corner of the classroom doodling away in between classes. I would not defend myself. I tried very hard to get everyone's approval, to the point where I thought that fighting back would give them a reason to deny me friendship. It was years later that I realized that such people never deserved my friendship any more. By the time I finished my 12th grade, I was about 6 feet tall. I was no longer the short skinny kid. I was the tall skinny bloke. I spent the next 4 years studying for my Bachelors in Mechanical Engineering, something I was never too fond of. Interestingly, I loved those 4 years. Outside university, I was introduced to new friends, I learned music and worked with some wonderful musicians, dabbled with photography and writing, debated over political paradigms and economic constructs, yes, I was in an intellectual's perfect dream.
But it was still not enough.
I was introduced to a rigid educational system that focused on cramming, where excellence was based on grades, and I felt like I didn't fit in. Moreover, I lived away from my family and old friends and was finding a hard time to just 'fit'.
I got picked on. I was a think skinny little kid, among the shortest in my class. I was buck-toothed, tremendously shy, and preferred sitting by self in my corner of the classroom doodling away in between classes. I would not defend myself. I tried very hard to get everyone's approval, to the point where I thought that fighting back would give them a reason to deny me friendship. It was years later that I realized that such people never deserved my friendship any more. By the time I finished my 12th grade, I was about 6 feet tall. I was no longer the short skinny kid. I was the tall skinny bloke. I spent the next 4 years studying for my Bachelors in Mechanical Engineering, something I was never too fond of. Interestingly, I loved those 4 years. Outside university, I was introduced to new friends, I learned music and worked with some wonderful musicians, dabbled with photography and writing, debated over political paradigms and economic constructs, yes, I was in an intellectual's perfect dream.
But it was still not enough.
Saturday, October 22
Monday, July 5
Dear misery
Dear Misery,
I hope you've been happy
With what you've done
I don't miss you anymore
And I don't think I ever did
I despise the times we had
And the experiences we've shared
And I have no place for you anymore.
The contriteness is gone now
And so has the empty shallow
The shadows hate the shade
And now follow the light
They are enlightened and no more.
The sad faces have been promoted
With a million smileys each
And they wear them all the time, dear misery
I don't think they miss you either.
The despair, Dear Misery, has taken a leave
And has been taken over by solitude and peace
Old friends who've learnt their ways
From the old man under the holy tree.
The pain, Dear Misery
Was touched by grace
And decided to mend its ways
It heals now. And is very happy with itself.
Dear Misery,
I hope you have something else to keep yourself busy
Because I've moved on
And so has everyone else.
And just for the record
You are a b*tch!!
I hope you've been happy
With what you've done
I don't miss you anymore
And I don't think I ever did
I despise the times we had
And the experiences we've shared
And I have no place for you anymore.
The contriteness is gone now
And so has the empty shallow
The shadows hate the shade
And now follow the light
They are enlightened and no more.
The sad faces have been promoted
With a million smileys each
And they wear them all the time, dear misery
I don't think they miss you either.
The despair, Dear Misery, has taken a leave
And has been taken over by solitude and peace
Old friends who've learnt their ways
From the old man under the holy tree.
The pain, Dear Misery
Was touched by grace
And decided to mend its ways
It heals now. And is very happy with itself.
Dear Misery,
I hope you have something else to keep yourself busy
Because I've moved on
And so has everyone else.
And just for the record
You are a b*tch!!
Saturday, June 5
Butterscotch Gold
I saw a butterfly and in its eyes i saw your sky
And cherry pie for the guy who saw it here
I saw its rainbow wings n in it things that made me smile
I know you see us in this while
This piece of me is yours to take
With cherry cheese a slice of cake
This butterscotch in lemonade
This tenderness we serenade
And on the moon we find our peace
And build our walls from cherry trees
And shake the sun to make it shine
In this heaven all of mine
I saw butterflies and in their wings I saw your face
Saw you take me to that place
Where smiles are sold without a price
The marketplace of surprise
And that is where I saw you play
This moment back to yesterday
I saw you smile I saw you blush and glow
Make a wish and wish again
Wish for wishes in the end
And in the crystal ball of fire
Find the joy that you desire
You are my eyes inside these skies
Butterscotch gold you are divine
You are the touch in an angels sigh
The clouds in heaven, in disguise...
Oh sweetness mine you are divine
You are the sun that makes me shine
Stay with me and spread the love
Shine on me, from above!
And cherry pie for the guy who saw it here
I saw its rainbow wings n in it things that made me smile
I know you see us in this while
This piece of me is yours to take
With cherry cheese a slice of cake
This butterscotch in lemonade
This tenderness we serenade
And on the moon we find our peace
And build our walls from cherry trees
And shake the sun to make it shine
In this heaven all of mine
I saw butterflies and in their wings I saw your face
Saw you take me to that place
Where smiles are sold without a price
The marketplace of surprise
And that is where I saw you play
This moment back to yesterday
I saw you smile I saw you blush and glow
Make a wish and wish again
Wish for wishes in the end
And in the crystal ball of fire
Find the joy that you desire
You are my eyes inside these skies
Butterscotch gold you are divine
You are the touch in an angels sigh
The clouds in heaven, in disguise...
Oh sweetness mine you are divine
You are the sun that makes me shine
Stay with me and spread the love
Shine on me, from above!
Tuesday, March 16
Justicedude-001
I've started my own strip, and I hope to put a new one up every week. Close friends already know of this, and i hope they don't kill me for reposting the old strips, but I want them to know that this is for those 3-4 people who read the blog.
PS-Click on the thumbnail below to maximize it. Cheers.
PS-Click on the thumbnail below to maximize it. Cheers.
The pinnacle...
I look to the west, to a departing sun
I see no smoke, and yet it burns away
Bringing to us, this light and day
I look to the stars, and I see starshine and moonshine
And yet here I am in the dark, searching for a lantern
To illuminate this road of mine
I look inside others, and I see hatred, greed and chaos
And when I look again, I see love, peace and joy
Maybe it's not them at fault, maybe I'm just flawed
Or maybe I just picked out a bunch of morons to look at.. Aww!
I see within myself, and I see reasons to harmonize
To phrase my thoughts, tap them out, and slapsticize
I see Gods of groove around me, and I feel blessed
And it doesn't hurt to know, that I am on the road they chose.. Yes!!
I am the tortoise that sleeps in his cage
I am the walrus that shall amaze
I am the imagination in your miracle
I am you, and you are me, and together we...
The pinnacle.
I see no smoke, and yet it burns away
Bringing to us, this light and day
I look to the stars, and I see starshine and moonshine
And yet here I am in the dark, searching for a lantern
To illuminate this road of mine
I look inside others, and I see hatred, greed and chaos
And when I look again, I see love, peace and joy
Maybe it's not them at fault, maybe I'm just flawed
Or maybe I just picked out a bunch of morons to look at.. Aww!
I see within myself, and I see reasons to harmonize
To phrase my thoughts, tap them out, and slapsticize
I see Gods of groove around me, and I feel blessed
And it doesn't hurt to know, that I am on the road they chose.. Yes!!
I am the tortoise that sleeps in his cage
I am the walrus that shall amaze
I am the imagination in your miracle
I am you, and you are me, and together we...
The pinnacle.
Thursday, October 22
Come. Fly with me.
I see paper planes over planes of reason this season they change their flight. Like a derailed train of thought, they exchange reasons for plight. I see the sun watching over them like one would watch a child, like a giver who gives, and seeks a smile. I wanted to be a part of this, but it was all so grand, and, I wonder, If I wasn't so small would I be accepted into this plan? I waited and watched for things to come into play, like a child waiting for its mother to take it away. Rays of hope that shine, come to mind, in this lucid verse of joy, singing songs, bringing reason and substance, and with it a dream made from the dust of a thousand stars, that shine far and wide. Do I get to witness a miracle that will bring to me the change I wish to hold in my hand? If I do, then hold true, and wake me up before I realize that something, someone, far more greater than my being, is toying with me.
Wake up with the sounds of heaven in resonance, with the bells of Eden in a vibrato, ever so blissful, beckoning you to walk along with smiling angels who don't care what you did last night. Enter a world where a brother knows a brother, and a son loves a mother, where joy and hate cannot co-exist, merely because negativity is not allowed to pass through the gates. Where birds sing from their heart, where the sun is allowed to shine with the moon, and the stars make their presence and applaud in silent approval. Witness nativity. Witness the daylight under the moon, witness decisive victory of hope and love over tragedy and dismissal.
Walk with me into this song sung by innocence, into this grand story, one with a plot that shall thrill you, and gift to you an eternal smile. Are you ready to embrace the shine of a million stars in attendance? Are you ready to pass the gates? Look within your exterior, and let the words jump out by themselves, let them guide you through your way. Let peace do the talking, while you walk into the midst of humble glory. Simple. Beautiful. Eternal.
Come. Fly with me.
Note: This is an extension of this, and this.
Wake up with the sounds of heaven in resonance, with the bells of Eden in a vibrato, ever so blissful, beckoning you to walk along with smiling angels who don't care what you did last night. Enter a world where a brother knows a brother, and a son loves a mother, where joy and hate cannot co-exist, merely because negativity is not allowed to pass through the gates. Where birds sing from their heart, where the sun is allowed to shine with the moon, and the stars make their presence and applaud in silent approval. Witness nativity. Witness the daylight under the moon, witness decisive victory of hope and love over tragedy and dismissal.
Walk with me into this song sung by innocence, into this grand story, one with a plot that shall thrill you, and gift to you an eternal smile. Are you ready to embrace the shine of a million stars in attendance? Are you ready to pass the gates? Look within your exterior, and let the words jump out by themselves, let them guide you through your way. Let peace do the talking, while you walk into the midst of humble glory. Simple. Beautiful. Eternal.
Come. Fly with me.
Note: This is an extension of this, and this.
Wednesday, October 21
Chapter m - Draft 1
The curtain falls. This tale has ended for one, and begun for another. It's raining outside. Vaporized clouds of doubt unquestionably decide that it is now time for them to pour on, to pour upon the alchemical fire burning within, raging, seeking solitude and peace, an illusion of serenity that is elusive yet mystic, hidden yet felt in the air. Noone's watching now. But everyone's waiting to find out the outcome of this glorious battle, merely because it does not involve them. Just their undivided attention. Their undivided uncalled-for attention.
Maybe it really is time for a Scene-2.
He picks up his umbrella and readies himself with the thought of waiting out into the rain. The selfless rain. Maybe it might take the load off his mind, distract him from the one thing that's been bothering him all day, making his insides turn over. Himself.
Dusting his anxiety aside, he replaces the thought of consequence with a far simpler one. One that promises to be true and simple. One without any strings attached.
Aller manger. Aller manger. Nous devons manger.
(Go eat. Go eat. We must eat.)
He walks slowly. Today was nice. No bloodshed. No crying faces. No reasons given and no questions answered. The rain gets harder. He doesn't care. If he could, he'd shoot it in the face.
That reminded him. The gun needed cleaning.
-Faiz
Maybe it really is time for a Scene-2.
He picks up his umbrella and readies himself with the thought of waiting out into the rain. The selfless rain. Maybe it might take the load off his mind, distract him from the one thing that's been bothering him all day, making his insides turn over. Himself.
Dusting his anxiety aside, he replaces the thought of consequence with a far simpler one. One that promises to be true and simple. One without any strings attached.
Aller manger. Aller manger. Nous devons manger.
(Go eat. Go eat. We must eat.)
He walks slowly. Today was nice. No bloodshed. No crying faces. No reasons given and no questions answered. The rain gets harder. He doesn't care. If he could, he'd shoot it in the face.
That reminded him. The gun needed cleaning.
Note: In case you're wondering what this is all about, you might want to read this..
-Faiz
Monday, October 12
Time to share!! (Share001)
So yeah, I've been in the process of writing a super cool post here, something super humorous and all.Haven't been successful so I'll just share stuff I've been reading/playing/watching/acutely observing.
Note: For the ignorant, it pays to have an account at delicious.com, the social bookmarking site.
(I) I'll start with my favorite of all these. The art and the experience.
Wake Felderman' Art: As per his site, it's "a social experiment about communication". Wonderful art depicting metaphors. See it to get it.
50 States Project - Photographers from each of the 50 United States were asked to take one picture of people, landscape, habitat, and industry.
Aerial Virtual Tours: - Explore large-scale photos taken with a remote control helicopter, stitched together, then given a navigation interface and soundtrack.
Infinite Photograph: Every pixel in the photograph is another photograph. And so on..
Invading The Vintage: Sci-fi imagery put into vintage Swiss postcards.
Insect Lab: Guy replaces parts of dead insects with clockwork and watch parts. Results are astounding.
200 SUEÑOS ILUSTRADOS : Awesome illustrations of childrens dreams.
Scribbls : "Bees plus flowers gives you honey. Pie and rat together make "pirate." Putting any two things together is bound to have an interesting, even hilarious, effect—or outcome. At Scribbls, you can combine thousands of different drawings to create an infinite number of outcomes."
Neave Anaglyph : "Do you have a pair of those red-blue 3D glasses lying around? If you do, whip 'em out and start doodling big wiggly lines in 3D." Loads of other insane psychedelic/unreal experiences here. Do check.
Markus Neidel: A long parallax-animated piece of cartoon art in an interactive interface, with creepy sheep and other imagery.
superZOOM: Recursively drawn art with a great zoom interface.
Picasso's Guernica in 3D: A video by Lena Gieseke that explores the dimensions of the famous painting.
The Impossible Art Of Li Wei: Insane photography.
II)The literature/Reading material.
Longest Poem in the world
Unnecessary Quotes
Top 10 worst company URLs:The irony is just, .. there.
(III) The videos come next.
Eternal Moonwalk: Never ending moonwalk. MJ lives on!!
http://soydeaire.labuat.com/ - Interactive music video!! Move the cursor around to the sound of Spanish band 'Labuat'. Create your own music video. Way cool and fun!!
Kutiman-Thru-you - 01 - Mother of All Funk Chords - Artist creates songs by mashing up samples taken directly from YouTube videos. Check his youtube homepage for more.
Incredible Webcam Collaboration: - A music video for 'Hibi no Neiro' by SOUR. Features some amazing webcam trickery.
Video from the Sushi’s Perspective - A tourist in Japan places her video camera on a sushi conveyor belt at a restaurant. It travels for over seven minutes and confounds the kitchen staff.
Superman - Native Tongue - Hyderabad-based band Native Tongue's latest music video. Really neat stuff.
Lasagna Cat - A collection of twenty-seven live-action re-enactments of Garfield strips, all featuring music videos or other presentations. Rubber Johnny: Creepy flash video.
(IIII) The games!!
Canabalt - A long daring escape. Damn cool!!
Red Remover - Crazy addictive game where your goal is to remove the red shapes without letting any green shapes fall off the screen.
Whack your Boss - Find 17 ways to kill your boss. Very bloody and gory, but ironically, pretty funny too.
Fantastic Contraption - Physics-based game, damn fun for the mechanically inclined ;)
lose/lose - Lose/Lose is a video-game with real life consequences. Each alien in the game is created based on a random file on the players computer. If the player kills the alien, the file it is based on is deleted. If the players ship is destroyed, the application itself is deleted. Ha ha ha!! Eat bytes!!
Have fun.
Cheers and regards,
Faiz
Note: For the ignorant, it pays to have an account at delicious.com, the social bookmarking site.
(I) I'll start with my favorite of all these. The art and the experience.
Wake Felderman' Art: As per his site, it's "a social experiment about communication". Wonderful art depicting metaphors. See it to get it.
50 States Project - Photographers from each of the 50 United States were asked to take one picture of people, landscape, habitat, and industry.
Aerial Virtual Tours: - Explore large-scale photos taken with a remote control helicopter, stitched together, then given a navigation interface and soundtrack.
Infinite Photograph: Every pixel in the photograph is another photograph. And so on..
Invading The Vintage: Sci-fi imagery put into vintage Swiss postcards.
Insect Lab: Guy replaces parts of dead insects with clockwork and watch parts. Results are astounding.
200 SUEÑOS ILUSTRADOS : Awesome illustrations of childrens dreams.
Scribbls : "Bees plus flowers gives you honey. Pie and rat together make "pirate." Putting any two things together is bound to have an interesting, even hilarious, effect—or outcome. At Scribbls, you can combine thousands of different drawings to create an infinite number of outcomes."
Neave Anaglyph : "Do you have a pair of those red-blue 3D glasses lying around? If you do, whip 'em out and start doodling big wiggly lines in 3D." Loads of other insane psychedelic/unreal experiences here. Do check.
Markus Neidel: A long parallax-animated piece of cartoon art in an interactive interface, with creepy sheep and other imagery.
superZOOM: Recursively drawn art with a great zoom interface.
Picasso's Guernica in 3D: A video by Lena Gieseke that explores the dimensions of the famous painting.
The Impossible Art Of Li Wei: Insane photography.
II)The literature/Reading material.
Longest Poem in the world
Unnecessary Quotes
Top 10 worst company URLs:The irony is just, .. there.
(III) The videos come next.
Eternal Moonwalk: Never ending moonwalk. MJ lives on!!
http://soydeaire.labuat.com/ - Interactive music video!! Move the cursor around to the sound of Spanish band 'Labuat'. Create your own music video. Way cool and fun!!
Kutiman-Thru-you - 01 - Mother of All Funk Chords - Artist creates songs by mashing up samples taken directly from YouTube videos. Check his youtube homepage for more.
Incredible Webcam Collaboration: - A music video for 'Hibi no Neiro' by SOUR. Features some amazing webcam trickery.
Video from the Sushi’s Perspective - A tourist in Japan places her video camera on a sushi conveyor belt at a restaurant. It travels for over seven minutes and confounds the kitchen staff.
Superman - Native Tongue - Hyderabad-based band Native Tongue's latest music video. Really neat stuff.
Lasagna Cat - A collection of twenty-seven live-action re-enactments of Garfield strips, all featuring music videos or other presentations. Rubber Johnny: Creepy flash video.
(IIII) The games!!
Canabalt - A long daring escape. Damn cool!!
Red Remover - Crazy addictive game where your goal is to remove the red shapes without letting any green shapes fall off the screen.
Whack your Boss - Find 17 ways to kill your boss. Very bloody and gory, but ironically, pretty funny too.
Fantastic Contraption - Physics-based game, damn fun for the mechanically inclined ;)
lose/lose - Lose/Lose is a video-game with real life consequences. Each alien in the game is created based on a random file on the players computer. If the player kills the alien, the file it is based on is deleted. If the players ship is destroyed, the application itself is deleted. Ha ha ha!! Eat bytes!!
Have fun.
Cheers and regards,
Faiz
Saturday, October 10
Flight of the White Phoenix
He looks, observes, never to be seen. He hears, listens, never to be heard. Music is not whimsical avocation. It is prerequisite. Obsession. Prayer. Consumed like the Light of Angels sent down from Heaven.
He knows.
He waits.
He is a fool.
A fool of many words, of many faces, lost in a crowd chasing oblivion. He prays. He seeks solitude. He seeks peace and serenity. He has no name. Just a conscience, woken up by the sounds of silence. It is his only companion, his only friend. Like a shadow in the light, it follows him everywhere. It guides him towards the right, towards the light, watching him, his every move, his every step, his every flaw. It reminds him that he can question nothing, that he must hold his peace.
They are good friends. I have seen them many a time, under The Holy Tree. They sit and talk under the rain. They are one. He seeks a blessed state in the Kingdom of God, in sinu Abraham. He sleeps under the silver moon, in the Garden of Eden. He drinks from the Holy River. He rides on the wings of the Great White Phoenix, waiting for oblivion to pass him by. He prays, and drifts away into the mystical horizon, never to be seen, or heard, again.
He knows.
He waits.
He is a fool.
A fool of many words, of many faces, lost in a crowd chasing oblivion. He prays. He seeks solitude. He seeks peace and serenity. He has no name. Just a conscience, woken up by the sounds of silence. It is his only companion, his only friend. Like a shadow in the light, it follows him everywhere. It guides him towards the right, towards the light, watching him, his every move, his every step, his every flaw. It reminds him that he can question nothing, that he must hold his peace.
They are good friends. I have seen them many a time, under The Holy Tree. They sit and talk under the rain. They are one. He seeks a blessed state in the Kingdom of God, in sinu Abraham. He sleeps under the silver moon, in the Garden of Eden. He drinks from the Holy River. He rides on the wings of the Great White Phoenix, waiting for oblivion to pass him by. He prays, and drifts away into the mystical horizon, never to be seen, or heard, again.
Monday, October 5
My day, today
This is going to be one of those funny random things you read at random sites by random people, randomly. By the time you're done with thins you're almost going to laugh.
Woke up early today. 1pm only.
Fell out of bed.
Had breakfast at lunchtime.
Told mom I love her only.
She took me lite.
Sat on the comp.
Checked mail.
Checked friend's myspace.
Called him, talked about stuff.
Ran out of balance.
He called back.
Told him Sorry I don't have balance and hung up.
Realized I was a jackass.
Read the paper, got depressed with the world.
Read the comics. Found more sense there.
Got stuck in a crossword.
Figured it was not worth it anyway.
Tried to do a jigsaw, but it was broken.
Made a prank call.
Realized I didn't have balance after I hung up.
Went out to get fresh air.
Ended up with a smoke instead.
Met a friend, wished the others were free.
Met the others.
Made a funny joke.
Noone laughed.
Tried again.
Almost got beaten up.
Ate Schewerwerffwrtzzz-wan noodles.
Talked about future plans.
Ended up with movie plans for weekend.
Came back home.
Watched a movie.
Had a donut.
Felt good and happy.
Drooled over the Bentley Supersports and the Phantom Coupé.
Wished I had a Shelby instead.
Asked sis to become a follower of this blog.
She said no.
Asked kid brother to become a follower.
He said no.
Bribed him with candy.
He ate candy and then said no.
Asked mom to become a follower.
She said she already was.
Realized 30 minutes later that she was talking about God.
Reminded myself to ask you to become a follower.
Spent the late evening over chai.
Wished I had a Chocolate Latté at that point.
Realized I spent the day without saying a single cuss word.
Celebrated by exclaming "holy sht this is fckin awesome".
Realized I blew it.
Didn't care.
Realized I didn't have my wallet.
Didn't care.
Remembered that I lost my wallet.
Called home.
Realized I didn't have balance.
Borrowed phone and called home.
Realized I left my wallet at home.
Realized I have to recharge phone.
Realized I left my wallet at home.
Came back home.
Realized I had to recharge phone.
Realized I had a recharge card in my other jeans.
Recharged phone.
Called a friend.
Got shouted at.
Hung up.
Realized I need a new daily routine.
Wrote this detailed account.
Made up my mind to stick with it.
Decided to start tomorrow, most definitely.
Forgot to ask you to be a follower.
Wrote this.
Went to bed.
Woke up early today. 1pm only.
Fell out of bed.
Had breakfast at lunchtime.
Told mom I love her only.
She took me lite.
Sat on the comp.
Checked mail.
Checked friend's myspace.
Called him, talked about stuff.
Ran out of balance.
He called back.
Told him Sorry I don't have balance and hung up.
Realized I was a jackass.
Read the paper, got depressed with the world.
Read the comics. Found more sense there.
Got stuck in a crossword.
Figured it was not worth it anyway.
Tried to do a jigsaw, but it was broken.
Made a prank call.
Realized I didn't have balance after I hung up.
Went out to get fresh air.
Ended up with a smoke instead.
Met a friend, wished the others were free.
Met the others.
Made a funny joke.
Noone laughed.
Tried again.
Almost got beaten up.
Ate Schewerwerffwrtzzz-wan noodles.
Talked about future plans.
Ended up with movie plans for weekend.
Came back home.
Watched a movie.
Had a donut.
Felt good and happy.
Drooled over the Bentley Supersports and the Phantom Coupé.
Wished I had a Shelby instead.
Asked sis to become a follower of this blog.
She said no.
Asked kid brother to become a follower.
He said no.
Bribed him with candy.
He ate candy and then said no.
Asked mom to become a follower.
She said she already was.
Realized 30 minutes later that she was talking about God.
Reminded myself to ask you to become a follower.
Spent the late evening over chai.
Wished I had a Chocolate Latté at that point.
Realized I spent the day without saying a single cuss word.
Celebrated by exclaming "holy sht this is fckin awesome".
Realized I blew it.
Didn't care.
Realized I didn't have my wallet.
Didn't care.
Remembered that I lost my wallet.
Called home.
Realized I didn't have balance.
Borrowed phone and called home.
Realized I left my wallet at home.
Realized I have to recharge phone.
Realized I left my wallet at home.
Came back home.
Realized I had to recharge phone.
Realized I had a recharge card in my other jeans.
Recharged phone.
Called a friend.
Got shouted at.
Hung up.
Realized I need a new daily routine.
Wrote this detailed account.
Made up my mind to stick with it.
Decided to start tomorrow, most definitely.
Forgot to ask you to be a follower.
Wrote this.
Went to bed.
Saturday, October 3
A word to all
A long time has passed since I started blogging, and many a few people have crossed my path. I thank them all. The blog has gone a lot of changes since it's birth, and I hope that now it has taken a shape that will be considered "permanent". There's a lot of new stuff, and a lot of the old as well. Stuff from all walks of life, about all walks of life. There's always something or the other that'll appeal to you. If there isn't, then in due time there will be. I have been pondering on the subject of expansion... there are a lot of good writers out here, so I think I'll let them in on the action, give them their own cut on this. More minds at work, more thoughts at play. Maybe. Just maybe.Watch this space.
Regards,
Faiz
Regards,
Faiz
Thursday, July 16
Sand Castles in Tangerine Dreams
I see visions of a future
Of a tomorrow lost in today
I see apparent peace and bliss
Content in itself, in every way
I come across a morning drift, like a lonely man
Like a mourning sift warning an only man
Like objective subjects and subjective objects
I have no idea what I just said except...
I see the full moon smiling at me
I feel the wind waving back
I see myself wishing the sun was there
But he's too busy hitting the sack
I see goodbyes and hello-hi's
All around me I see joy in disguise
I see harmony and peace and bliss
I see misfortune giving this a miss
I see Don Corleone with Wooten and Miller
In my head I see them chill
A glass of Macallan Single Highland Malt
Up atop the sunset streaked hill
I see smoke rings and sand castles
And smiles of tangerine dreams
I see myself smiling away like a jackass
Lost in a rainbow tinted stream
I see The King, Elvis, with B.B.King
Fighting over common last names, doing their thing
Michael screams as he walks on the moon
But he didn't come back and it ended too soon
I see a bird chirp
I feel the wind fight my accelerated trip
I see myself, with a blank flag
On the highest Mountain tip.
Of a tomorrow lost in today
I see apparent peace and bliss
Content in itself, in every way
I come across a morning drift, like a lonely man
Like a mourning sift warning an only man
Like objective subjects and subjective objects
I have no idea what I just said except...
I see the full moon smiling at me
I feel the wind waving back
I see myself wishing the sun was there
But he's too busy hitting the sack
I see goodbyes and hello-hi's
All around me I see joy in disguise
I see harmony and peace and bliss
I see misfortune giving this a miss
I see Don Corleone with Wooten and Miller
In my head I see them chill
A glass of Macallan Single Highland Malt
Up atop the sunset streaked hill
I see smoke rings and sand castles
And smiles of tangerine dreams
I see myself smiling away like a jackass
Lost in a rainbow tinted stream
I see The King, Elvis, with B.B.King
Fighting over common last names, doing their thing
Michael screams as he walks on the moon
But he didn't come back and it ended too soon
I see a bird chirp
I feel the wind fight my accelerated trip
I see myself, with a blank flag
On the highest Mountain tip.
Wednesday, July 1
Memories in my pocket
It all started with a single day
One that put a new world in place
One that brought out the thought in me
Bound together with eclectic grease
Brilliant. It's all brilliant.
Life's good.
I sit here typing after a sleepless night filled with volleyball, nicotine, a LOT of Marcus Miller, some sitcom dosage, and a lot of endless wishing in my mind. And now I have to get off my behind and go to a job that demands more responsibility than I have the capacity to give, and earns me more respect than I have the capacity to contain. After a life of bending to the rules and staying away from the grind, it seems as though I've finally joined the rat race after all. And it gets tougher and more demanding by the day. Lately I've gotten obsessed with volleyball, and The Beatles, and Marcus Miller. I've taken a liking to vegetarian food. I like the rain even more now. I hate the traffic. I love having the sun over my head as long as I'm wearing a helmet.
Worth it. All worth it.
When I sat down here to type all this, I thought I'd write a load of poetic riff raff that I could boast about to myself, but I guess I'm not really in the mood to listen to myself right now. But I don't really know. Pissing myself off would just mean that I'd end up doing the exact opposite of what I'm doing right now, which would take me to back to the original plan, and lead me to my being content anywho. Ah. The irony of it all.
I've got memories in my pocket
More than it can ever hold
And tales of conquests ordinary
They're bad, I'd get killed if I told
And poetic thoughts that I'd rather not share
Why? Because I don't have too many to spare
But I still have time, and yet some more
To talk and talk until I bore
I'm stuck
In a room full full of mirrors
And all I can see, are a million me's
One after another, one after another
I see them, they see me
I see them see me in infinity
When I smile, they smile
When I frown, they smile harder
The bastards!
Ok. Not my best work. But then again, I never promised anyone anything. But yeah, if you're reading this, and you know me in person, I know you're going to hit me later for boring you like this. Sigh.
I'm awesome. Oktakecarebye.
One that put a new world in place
One that brought out the thought in me
Bound together with eclectic grease
Brilliant. It's all brilliant.
Life's good.
I sit here typing after a sleepless night filled with volleyball, nicotine, a LOT of Marcus Miller, some sitcom dosage, and a lot of endless wishing in my mind. And now I have to get off my behind and go to a job that demands more responsibility than I have the capacity to give, and earns me more respect than I have the capacity to contain. After a life of bending to the rules and staying away from the grind, it seems as though I've finally joined the rat race after all. And it gets tougher and more demanding by the day. Lately I've gotten obsessed with volleyball, and The Beatles, and Marcus Miller. I've taken a liking to vegetarian food. I like the rain even more now. I hate the traffic. I love having the sun over my head as long as I'm wearing a helmet.
Worth it. All worth it.
When I sat down here to type all this, I thought I'd write a load of poetic riff raff that I could boast about to myself, but I guess I'm not really in the mood to listen to myself right now. But I don't really know. Pissing myself off would just mean that I'd end up doing the exact opposite of what I'm doing right now, which would take me to back to the original plan, and lead me to my being content anywho. Ah. The irony of it all.
I've got memories in my pocket
More than it can ever hold
And tales of conquests ordinary
They're bad, I'd get killed if I told
And poetic thoughts that I'd rather not share
Why? Because I don't have too many to spare
But I still have time, and yet some more
To talk and talk until I bore
I'm stuck
In a room full full of mirrors
And all I can see, are a million me's
One after another, one after another
I see them, they see me
I see them see me in infinity
When I smile, they smile
When I frown, they smile harder
The bastards!
Ok. Not my best work. But then again, I never promised anyone anything. But yeah, if you're reading this, and you know me in person, I know you're going to hit me later for boring you like this. Sigh.
I'm awesome. Oktakecarebye.
The New arrive...
I haven't been updating this for a long time now, and I guess it's because of the job, and initially because of the book i was working on. I frankly have no idea about what I want to write here, there's just so much stuff I've kept bottled up inside my head that it's overwhelming.
Times have changed. I have changed. A lot has passed and gone by, and a lot has arrived. Former days of endless freedom of thought have gone and in their place I see days filled with creative satisfaction and progress. I never really thought I could fit anything in this little space, so I'm not going to bother, nor am I going to bore you to death.
Watch this space. I see a new wave coming.
Times have changed. I have changed. A lot has passed and gone by, and a lot has arrived. Former days of endless freedom of thought have gone and in their place I see days filled with creative satisfaction and progress. I never really thought I could fit anything in this little space, so I'm not going to bother, nor am I going to bore you to death.
Watch this space. I see a new wave coming.
Sunday, March 1
Chapter n - draft 3
NOTE: What you see below is an excerpt from a literary project, a WiP(Work in progress). It is a teaser of something i hope to complete by mid-2010. I will be updating info on this periodically, though not very often. If you've read this, and have any feedback/advice/opinions(good or bad), please feel free to let me know. Thanks for reading.
"Se réveiller."
(Wake up)
A voice echoed in a broken man's soul, and in his mind it resonated like wave of shattered emotion, gradually and progressively building up into a volatile outburst. It seemed to be getting closer, and he felt as though it was creeping up on him. He felt weak and powerless. Perhaps it was conscience calling for reason, a subtle reminder of all that had passed, and all that was yet to come. Or so he thought.
"Se réveiller, mon ami. Se réveiller."
(Wake up, my friend. Wake up)
The voice spoke yet again, and kept repeating itself. He shook it off with a jerk, only to feel its return the very next moment. Every night was the same now, a constant battle between between cognizance and unconsciousness. He felt as though he was trapped indecisively between the two, driven to one end of the spectrum only to be pulled back towards the other. The hallucinations were more frequent now, serving as constant reminders of his past, taking his mind to places and people he wished to forget and avoid. Memories and thoughts played back and forth in constant repetition in his head. It seemed as though they were a part of his conscience now, an amalgamation of fragments juxtaposed at the advent of every awakening, and at the departure of every stillness.
There was very little he could do, but a lot that he wanted to.
Krane Hawksworth felt a freezing chill run down his spine. Another nightmare had taken its toll on him yet again. He got up in a start, his heart beating at a rate faster than it could handle, pumping blood to his already stressed brain. He was gasping for air, and was still in shock from the harsh reality that unreal dreams delivered to him so voluntarily.
Through his bedroom window, he could see the cold moon looking down upon him from the stars, smiling, shining, its soothing light radiating away into the night sky, declaring to all a selfless embrace of universal harmony, reminding him of every moment that had just passed him by without a single word of farewell or a slight mention of remorse. For that one moment he felt free, he saw hope, but before he could grasp it for himself his mind switched back into first gear and ran over his illusion of freedom. And so he returned to where he had started from.
This was not how he intended things to turn out, this was not where he saw himself in life, and certainly not what he had imagined in his blissfully ignorant mind, completely oblivious to what fate had in store for him. The revelation he got now was not doing much to ease the agonizing pain either. He sighed as he glanced across the room, his eyes looking around mechanically, searching for one sign of divine intervention, one sign of an exit from this painfully repetitive monotony.
"Qu'est-ce que tu veux ?"
(What do you want?)
"Qu'est-ce que tu veux, vieux ami?"
(What do you want, old friend?)
The voice repeated itself, taunting him, mocking him, drawing him deeper towards insanity and delusion. He wished it would withdraw and take its departure, but it didn't. It stayed and tormented him, toying with every thought, every intuition. It seemed to make sense, but he wasn't really sure if it did. He wondered how long it would take before he went completely insane. He knew he was about to break, he just didn't know when it would happen.
"Qu'est-ce que tu veux!!!"
(What do you want!!!)
The voice was no longer hollow and faint. It seemed like it was coming closer, creeping up behind him, waiting, watching. What scared him the most was that despite knowing the fact that it wasn't real, he had no control over it. It seemed so real and true that it almost made sense. He wanted to ignore it, but he couldn't. It stayed and kept talking to him, demanding answers and explanations. He wondered if he was going insane, or if it was just hallucination overpowering reason .
He sat by the window, eyes weary, heart heavy, his mind filled with nebulous thoughts of doubt and apprehension that remained in constant collision with thoughts instigated and actualized by rationale and logic. He realized now that he had landed himself in a fabricated chimera of his mind, a chaotic delusion waiting to implode. He also realized that it had given him a splitting headache.
Outside the window, the world seemed unaware of his predicament, blissfully ignorant and content in its own current completion and fulfillment. He looked around the room and noticed a flickering light bulb in a corner, its isolated filament lost in its own glass vacuum, shining away with a blessed innocence, and the privilege of not knowing the fact that its fate was inevitable, that its fate was the same. One with an end.
He got up, and started walking towards the kitchen. He thought he could really with a hot cup of coffee after all he just went through. He thought it would help with the headache, and since he was already up, a little caffeine in his system wouldn't make much of a difference anyway. Countless nights of sleeplessness and repulsion had brought about a chain reaction that embedded itself in his every thought. Death seemed like a reasonable option. What he was waiting for was an invitation, an initiation that would push him forward and release him from this inertia. To life. To death. It didn't matter. He wanted an initiation. He believed in Karma, an in the amalgamated unison of faith in a higher power that governed the Universe, but at that point, they both seemed busy, so he decided to choose for himself. It was not his way of looking at things, he had always fought the odds, emerged victorious, stayed humble and loyal to his
motives and condescending achievements, which is exactly why all this seemed so strange and new and unfamiliar. His eyes traced the outline of the room he was in, searching for some source of preoccupation, some source of distraction. There was none.
The coffee was ready and done. He grabbed a cup from the shelf and poured the coffee in. He then dropped two cubes of sugar and just the right amount of milk. He liked his coffee rich, and sweet. But not too sweet. Across the floor, a little farther than a step, was a table. On one side he placed the cup of coffee. On the other, was a PPK, a single action pistol, a German fire arm that saw extensive service in the German government and military during World War II. It was a smaller version of the PP, and was made to fill the need for a compact concealable handgun used by undercover police officers. He had it from the days of war, and of all his weapons, this was his favorite. It was small, compact, and good enough to trust a life with. It was also his loyal friend, who always obeyed and held its own against most of his most dangerous foes. It would soon, perhaps, turn into one itself. And once again, it would do justice to it's role. It was a part of him now, and he felt that it deserved to take a part of him as well, if not all. He had to choose between the gun and the coffee. He wanted to drink the coffee and then go for the gun, but he was afraid that the caffeine would change his mind. A confusing decision in his final moment of truth was the last thing he was aiming for.
Armed, dispossessed, and suicidal was not how he thought he'd end up. And a steaming hot cup of refreshing coffee wasn't really helping in this situation either. There had to be a way, an answer, a solution, a second door. There had to be reason and sensibility. But all that didn't matter now.
The time had come. He had made up his mind. It was time. With one final thought of decision he reached forward and lifted it up. It was decided. There was no other alternative. And in a fraction of a second, he watched as he swallowed his pride and watched it all fade away...
The coffee was definitely better than the bullet.
"Le moment de l'action est venu...."
(The time for action is now....)
*****************************************************************
Chapter m:
He sat there, helpless and wounded, his hands held tight across his aching abdomen. He wondered as to how everything went wrong. Mistakes were a luxury that meant death. A luxury he could not afford. It had never occurred to him that all the time spent in calculation and execution had stealthily incorporated in itself a flaw so fickle that it now endangered his very life. And to think that he had imagined that this whole day would be the sort one would talk about to their grandchildren on a sunny summer morning in a rocking chair by the garden while sipping away on fresh lemonade topped with ice cubes in a shimmery glass, or like a bedtime story one makes up by the fireplace, a manipulated yet funny anecdote of a fleeting moment that reminds one of a superior entity's rather unpredictable sense of humor. Funny how exactly the opposite had to happen.
His insides hurt. His chest was now burning, and his inner being felt as though it would just give up and collapse at any moment. He tried to ignore the pain and get up. He was still his wearing favorite jacket, made from the best aniline finished leather in his day, hand-stitched to perfection by the best tailor in his neighborhood. He wore a shirt underneath, a pearl white which now turned red with blood. He was getting weaker with each passing moment and was having a tough time trying to stay conscious, which could fairly and justifiably be attributed to the unpleasant fall he had a while ago.
Still no sign of the guy who set this up. He was getting impatient. Back then, a few moments ago, he was armed and ready, it was all going so well, and then everything turned around. In a flash, he was tearing through the nearest window, falling straight down, two stories to the bottom. He was sure he would die, but this was a day that refused to go according to plan. He fell on the car's bonnet, and it did anything but break his fall. He tried getting up, but decided to wait instead. He was better off that way. He had cover, and considered it a good idea to lay low. Laying low at the moment meant staying alive. He didn't complain.
He heard footsteps in the distance. It took Hawksworth every ounce of strength he could concoct from his already battered body to get himself up. He saw a man walking away in the distance, and in the moonlight he could see the faint shape of what he knew was a barrel bolted on to a stock. Yes. A smile appears and takes shape on his scarred face, from the depths of his already twisted mind. Yes. It is who he thinks it is.
He reloads, takes a deep breath, and...
....x-x-to be contd
"Se réveiller."
(Wake up)
A voice echoed in a broken man's soul, and in his mind it resonated like wave of shattered emotion, gradually and progressively building up into a volatile outburst. It seemed to be getting closer, and he felt as though it was creeping up on him. He felt weak and powerless. Perhaps it was conscience calling for reason, a subtle reminder of all that had passed, and all that was yet to come. Or so he thought.
"Se réveiller, mon ami. Se réveiller."
(Wake up, my friend. Wake up)
The voice spoke yet again, and kept repeating itself. He shook it off with a jerk, only to feel its return the very next moment. Every night was the same now, a constant battle between between cognizance and unconsciousness. He felt as though he was trapped indecisively between the two, driven to one end of the spectrum only to be pulled back towards the other. The hallucinations were more frequent now, serving as constant reminders of his past, taking his mind to places and people he wished to forget and avoid. Memories and thoughts played back and forth in constant repetition in his head. It seemed as though they were a part of his conscience now, an amalgamation of fragments juxtaposed at the advent of every awakening, and at the departure of every stillness.
There was very little he could do, but a lot that he wanted to.
Krane Hawksworth felt a freezing chill run down his spine. Another nightmare had taken its toll on him yet again. He got up in a start, his heart beating at a rate faster than it could handle, pumping blood to his already stressed brain. He was gasping for air, and was still in shock from the harsh reality that unreal dreams delivered to him so voluntarily.
Through his bedroom window, he could see the cold moon looking down upon him from the stars, smiling, shining, its soothing light radiating away into the night sky, declaring to all a selfless embrace of universal harmony, reminding him of every moment that had just passed him by without a single word of farewell or a slight mention of remorse. For that one moment he felt free, he saw hope, but before he could grasp it for himself his mind switched back into first gear and ran over his illusion of freedom. And so he returned to where he had started from.
This was not how he intended things to turn out, this was not where he saw himself in life, and certainly not what he had imagined in his blissfully ignorant mind, completely oblivious to what fate had in store for him. The revelation he got now was not doing much to ease the agonizing pain either. He sighed as he glanced across the room, his eyes looking around mechanically, searching for one sign of divine intervention, one sign of an exit from this painfully repetitive monotony.
"Qu'est-ce que tu veux ?"
(What do you want?)
"Qu'est-ce que tu veux, vieux ami?"
(What do you want, old friend?)
The voice repeated itself, taunting him, mocking him, drawing him deeper towards insanity and delusion. He wished it would withdraw and take its departure, but it didn't. It stayed and tormented him, toying with every thought, every intuition. It seemed to make sense, but he wasn't really sure if it did. He wondered how long it would take before he went completely insane. He knew he was about to break, he just didn't know when it would happen.
"Qu'est-ce que tu veux!!!"
(What do you want!!!)
The voice was no longer hollow and faint. It seemed like it was coming closer, creeping up behind him, waiting, watching. What scared him the most was that despite knowing the fact that it wasn't real, he had no control over it. It seemed so real and true that it almost made sense. He wanted to ignore it, but he couldn't. It stayed and kept talking to him, demanding answers and explanations. He wondered if he was going insane, or if it was just hallucination overpowering reason .
He sat by the window, eyes weary, heart heavy, his mind filled with nebulous thoughts of doubt and apprehension that remained in constant collision with thoughts instigated and actualized by rationale and logic. He realized now that he had landed himself in a fabricated chimera of his mind, a chaotic delusion waiting to implode. He also realized that it had given him a splitting headache.
Outside the window, the world seemed unaware of his predicament, blissfully ignorant and content in its own current completion and fulfillment. He looked around the room and noticed a flickering light bulb in a corner, its isolated filament lost in its own glass vacuum, shining away with a blessed innocence, and the privilege of not knowing the fact that its fate was inevitable, that its fate was the same. One with an end.
He got up, and started walking towards the kitchen. He thought he could really with a hot cup of coffee after all he just went through. He thought it would help with the headache, and since he was already up, a little caffeine in his system wouldn't make much of a difference anyway. Countless nights of sleeplessness and repulsion had brought about a chain reaction that embedded itself in his every thought. Death seemed like a reasonable option. What he was waiting for was an invitation, an initiation that would push him forward and release him from this inertia. To life. To death. It didn't matter. He wanted an initiation. He believed in Karma, an in the amalgamated unison of faith in a higher power that governed the Universe, but at that point, they both seemed busy, so he decided to choose for himself. It was not his way of looking at things, he had always fought the odds, emerged victorious, stayed humble and loyal to his
motives and condescending achievements, which is exactly why all this seemed so strange and new and unfamiliar. His eyes traced the outline of the room he was in, searching for some source of preoccupation, some source of distraction. There was none.
The coffee was ready and done. He grabbed a cup from the shelf and poured the coffee in. He then dropped two cubes of sugar and just the right amount of milk. He liked his coffee rich, and sweet. But not too sweet. Across the floor, a little farther than a step, was a table. On one side he placed the cup of coffee. On the other, was a PPK, a single action pistol, a German fire arm that saw extensive service in the German government and military during World War II. It was a smaller version of the PP, and was made to fill the need for a compact concealable handgun used by undercover police officers. He had it from the days of war, and of all his weapons, this was his favorite. It was small, compact, and good enough to trust a life with. It was also his loyal friend, who always obeyed and held its own against most of his most dangerous foes. It would soon, perhaps, turn into one itself. And once again, it would do justice to it's role. It was a part of him now, and he felt that it deserved to take a part of him as well, if not all. He had to choose between the gun and the coffee. He wanted to drink the coffee and then go for the gun, but he was afraid that the caffeine would change his mind. A confusing decision in his final moment of truth was the last thing he was aiming for.
Armed, dispossessed, and suicidal was not how he thought he'd end up. And a steaming hot cup of refreshing coffee wasn't really helping in this situation either. There had to be a way, an answer, a solution, a second door. There had to be reason and sensibility. But all that didn't matter now.
The time had come. He had made up his mind. It was time. With one final thought of decision he reached forward and lifted it up. It was decided. There was no other alternative. And in a fraction of a second, he watched as he swallowed his pride and watched it all fade away...
The coffee was definitely better than the bullet.
"Le moment de l'action est venu...."
(The time for action is now....)
*****************************************************************
Chapter m:
He sat there, helpless and wounded, his hands held tight across his aching abdomen. He wondered as to how everything went wrong. Mistakes were a luxury that meant death. A luxury he could not afford. It had never occurred to him that all the time spent in calculation and execution had stealthily incorporated in itself a flaw so fickle that it now endangered his very life. And to think that he had imagined that this whole day would be the sort one would talk about to their grandchildren on a sunny summer morning in a rocking chair by the garden while sipping away on fresh lemonade topped with ice cubes in a shimmery glass, or like a bedtime story one makes up by the fireplace, a manipulated yet funny anecdote of a fleeting moment that reminds one of a superior entity's rather unpredictable sense of humor. Funny how exactly the opposite had to happen.
His insides hurt. His chest was now burning, and his inner being felt as though it would just give up and collapse at any moment. He tried to ignore the pain and get up. He was still his wearing favorite jacket, made from the best aniline finished leather in his day, hand-stitched to perfection by the best tailor in his neighborhood. He wore a shirt underneath, a pearl white which now turned red with blood. He was getting weaker with each passing moment and was having a tough time trying to stay conscious, which could fairly and justifiably be attributed to the unpleasant fall he had a while ago.
Still no sign of the guy who set this up. He was getting impatient. Back then, a few moments ago, he was armed and ready, it was all going so well, and then everything turned around. In a flash, he was tearing through the nearest window, falling straight down, two stories to the bottom. He was sure he would die, but this was a day that refused to go according to plan. He fell on the car's bonnet, and it did anything but break his fall. He tried getting up, but decided to wait instead. He was better off that way. He had cover, and considered it a good idea to lay low. Laying low at the moment meant staying alive. He didn't complain.
He heard footsteps in the distance. It took Hawksworth every ounce of strength he could concoct from his already battered body to get himself up. He saw a man walking away in the distance, and in the moonlight he could see the faint shape of what he knew was a barrel bolted on to a stock. Yes. A smile appears and takes shape on his scarred face, from the depths of his already twisted mind. Yes. It is who he thinks it is.
He reloads, takes a deep breath, and...
....x-x-to be contd
Friday, December 19
Dream on..
She listened to the clouds over the rain
And she thought she heard them say
Another line of grace
Mellowed all the way
Crying in the storm
Where the children played
She watched with a frown
Hoping it'd all change..
And then summer came
Bringing all the sun
A revolution of sun-soaked bliss
Had already begun..
A peppermint glow on the white-washed snow
And sunny sides on the emerald green
God painted all this here, with a shade of heaven
He painted dreams, right in between
Oh how i wish this dream would stay
And consciousness would just stay away
For just a while, if not more
I wish to dream, but I'm just not sure
And she thought she heard them say
Another line of grace
Mellowed all the way
Crying in the storm
Where the children played
She watched with a frown
Hoping it'd all change..
And then summer came
Bringing all the sun
A revolution of sun-soaked bliss
Had already begun..
A peppermint glow on the white-washed snow
And sunny sides on the emerald green
God painted all this here, with a shade of heaven
He painted dreams, right in between
Oh how i wish this dream would stay
And consciousness would just stay away
For just a while, if not more
I wish to dream, but I'm just not sure