tired

I am really tired today.

tired of staring at my cell for messages that never arrive of studying endlessly for exams to make them happy of my ego of giving so much and getting so little of empty email inboxes of checking certain blogs for new posts that never come of pretending to be "all right" when i am not of broken promises of praying for somebodythingthatwillneverbemine of dying of a broken-heart disease of being lonely and wishing things would be different but knowing that they never will be because im merely a little pawn in His great game and He hates me.

somebody hug me today.
please

Serenity Prayer

God,
Grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change,
the courage to change the things i can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

Whenever in doubt, I turn to Epictetus.
Unlike others, he doesn't let me down.

More think than you drunk i am

This past week saw the passing of another "Hostel Night", our yearly testament to the ability of adolescents on the throes of adulthood to relinquish any semblance of self-control and willingly submit to the joys of public inebriation, in an astonishing mockery of the expectations that are believed to burden those studying in a college, which according to CBS TV's '60 Minutes' programme, is "Harvard, MIT and Princeton all rolled into one." (hehe, funny that)

This being my first such occasion in my present hostel of residence, I was a little unsure of what exactly to expect. I might even have been excused for believing it was going to be a nice put-your-feet-up-and-relax evening, especially after the rendition of a few songs by some of my co-residents in wonderful spirit, even if the original singers might have cringed in their graves at the attempt. Even the food, in all fairness, wasn't too bad. Given the kind of rubbery rot that is the norm in our mess halls, we quite appreciate any change.

As the night wore on, and the programmes on stage grew more tedious, the bottles and rolled up sheets of tobacco (and marijuana, i would think) came out, and thus began the great orgy of bacchanalia. And poor lonely teetotaller that i am, all i could do was watch as one bottle after another was emptied down some dying liver, and one man after another began lolling around and dropping off like bowling pins.

It made me sick.

P.S
Incidentally, the hostel night is the only occasion when girls are allowed inside the hostel premises.
Thats a rant for another day.

P.P.S
If I met you on a train going from Budapest to Paris , and was getting off a couple of stops before you , in Vienna , would you get off the train and spend one single night with me walking the streets of Vienna, talking about life, the universe and everything , until dawn breaks and our paths diverge forever?

Things I've learnt this week

1)I hate pretentious chauvinistic over-self-assured men who claim that they don't cry. I'm very much a crier.
2) Some people will always hate you no matter how nice you try to be to them.
3) Some people will always be nice to you no matter how indifferent and ignorant you are of their presence.
3) I suffer from a chronic shoot-yourself-in-the-foot-and-self-destruct syndrome.
4) I'll never get tired of watching "Before Sunrise" and "Before Sunset". They just keep reminding me that the possibilites are infinite.
5) Having something dedicated to you feels really good. Thanks, Sid.
6) I am destined to remain a misfit all my life, wherever i go.
7)There's absolutely nothing like a conversation on a moonlit terrace.

sick

i hate myself and want to die
And we die as we are born

ALONE.

the Turn of the Screw

"Ah yes, Tweedledee , come come , what can i do for you. You know how much i am relying on you to smoke out the big bad Wolf, don't you? How about a few F-16 'Falcons' for you? Would that keep you happy, my favourite brother-in -arms ?

Now, now Tweedledum, don't take this so personally. Don't you know that I love you as much as I love Tweedledee ? And i can't have you take away all of my jobs , can i now ? Some nice crunchy F-18's for you perhaps? We call 'em Super Hornets, the cute darlings. "

And now lets join hands, Dee and Dum and Dub, and ignore this evil-hippie-looking lady holding up obscene posters, and do our little jig, our very own private Dance of Death, like fireflies who play wih the light till they get burnt and die. Sounds fun, what?

Rain

When I was a kid , I was told by the all-knowing-elderly that when it rained, it was merely a display of collective indecency by the gods, relieving themselves in public like little street urchins who never understood what 'Trespissers will be Prosecuted' meant.

Well, old Dionysius must really have thrown a big party last week to leave Them with such heavy bladders. You know that he did because of the smell of the heavenly ale, which , in our eagerness to ascribe a reason for everything, we simply called the smell of wet earth.

The downpur has been torrential the past few days , and the incessant pitter-patter is a welcome relief from the deafening silence that has become the defining sound of my life these last two years.
And even if roads are filled with little muddy puddles that make your reflections look uglier, and slushy piles of mud that swallow you like quicksand, you know what? It makes me happy.
And today, I even felt like sharing an umbrella with somebody.

Ah yes, there nothing like the rain to put your life in perspective.

P.S
It has just come to my attention that there are some people who read this blog whom i am under a certain amount of pressure to impress, so hold on to your horses tight darlings, fasten that seat belt and get the bit between your teeth for henceforth this is going to be one wild rollercoaster ride, and if you're not careful you might just die die die .

say a lil prayer

Before you get along with your all-too-exciting lives, just stop, take a deeep breath, and say a little prayer today.

for all those who are too hungry to envy the crumbs which you ,and me, for that matter, throw away without as much as a second thought,
for the differently abled, and i hate the term disabled, who deserve so much more of our encouragement and so much less of our sympathy,
for those waiting to walk the green mile, to whose judges i ask, are you without sin to throw the stone at him?
for those hopelessly vegetating individuals who have no way back, and are denied a dignified, relatively painless passing by asinine legislations and god-quoting politicians,
for those men and women who would rather prefer the company of their ilk, and are prevented to do so by a Neanderthal insularity,
for little children who are violated by smiling uncles and kings of pop, and live their lives battling a guilt that should not be not theirs to feel,
for fire and aid and health-care workers everywhere, whose lives are so much more meaningful and precious than mine,
for two countries who just cannot stop fighting, even if their people share so much more than merely a common border,
for the departed soul of an omnipresent father figure who will undoubtedly be humanity's flag-bearer at the Divine Olympics, God's Athlete that he was.

Rest in Peace, Father. You'll be missed.

Return of the king

After a protracted period of inactivity owing to assignments , quizzes, presentations and other horrors, i am back to take the blogosphere by storm , seize it by the scruff of its neck and set it afire with my dazzling displays of literary prowess.

Ahhhhh.
So much for the bluster.

Even if John Lennon maintains that life is what happens when we are busy making other plans, it sometimes scares me to think of how little of my life I've planned out. Everyone around me seems to have their life all chalked out, right down to the minutest details, and here I am, nearly deciding impulsively to choose a minor in Communication because it contained a course on Rhetoric,being the same course old Robert Pirsig taught in "Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance".

I was eventually put off by the excessively theoretical nature of the courses, replete with linguistics and phonetics and the like. And if there are two other things i can't stand, they are grammar and incompetence, both of which form the core of the college's English Department.

Oh and by the way, question in my English quiz:
Synonym for 'Resilience' - Fl________

All you self-anointed gods of the language, take a shot.