Muffballs

Welcome to the future. Nothing's changed, really. Snow White is still missing, HTML is still a lost art, and the grass is STILL greener on the other side. Oh AND xkcd.com is still the shizz. But the whole being the change thing is NOT working, dude. I've tried. Seriously. But it is becoming close to impossible to convince people that chocolate is degenerating with mass consumerism. Ferrero Rocher has been and will be wrapped in neat little gold wrappers. And no one gives two shits about how it tastes. Not that it tastes bad. But it tastes the SAME.

Ciao. TC. Peace out.

Down That Road Again

I am reminded of the times when you used to make my heart skip a beat for all the wrong reasons. When your delicate intrusions seemed to tilt the balance of my meticulously laid out life. When the word 'us' implied the authority to tread all over each other's conscience. And I find myself having to reiterate over and over again.

I am content with the particular way my CDs are stacked. I am more than satisfied at having my shirt thrown over the chair. Or talking the way I talk. This tunnel of love has enough space for the both of us. We are more than one. I can't have you turning into another me. Just one was getting annoying as it is.

"And I don't know where I'll be tonight,
but I'll always tell you where I am."
- Dire Straits

A Story For a Bubblegum

ONCE UPON A TIME. There was this little girl called Bez. She loved wearing scarves, washing dishes and cracking the lamest jokes and laughing at it herself. She lived in a little cottage made of piled up books with her brother Facepalm. Now, Facepalm couldn't stand the thought of letting Bez out of her sight. So he used have a little toy cart in which he sat, and Bez used to pull it around wherever they went.

One day, Bez was reading Mr. Pip while sitting beneath her favourite Gulmohar tree, when there comes along a man in a flawless white shirt *insert rin supreme add here, for extra whiteness*. He offers her a bouquet of lillies, along with some (horrible horrible) mint chocolates.

"Would Mademoiselle like to try some? They're from a faraway land, way beyond the seven seas!"

Facepalm watches in dissaproval, as Bez tries the chocolate. (As quoted in Spider, "I can't believe I fall for chocolate!") A conversation strikes up and soon enough, Bez is lost in the wonderful (hypnotic) whiteness of JF's (or so he says) shirt. Facepalm completely forgotten, she wanders off hand in hand with JF, through the forests of orange blossoms.

As Facepalm begins to worry, he notices a bunch of paparazzi trying to sneak past unnoticed through the trees. His curiosity awakened, he starts pedaling (yes, my cart is awesome like that) silently after the stalkers and overhears some of the gossip.

"Hush! Your footsteps make enough noise to scare the mimosas!"
"Hush yourself! We need a shot of JF without his sword! The girl makes our job easier! This way we can tell everyone that our prince has run away with his love, and Sir *ahem* will be unopposed to the throne of Disneyland!"

Even with his tiny sense of sobriety, Facepalm realizes that whatever happens will not be for Bez's good. So he plans obstacles to throw in their path. After many failed attempts (which include giant headless gummy bears and several other of Facepalm's ingenious creations), Facepalm is at the brink of despair and decides to go to his thinking spot to do some serious thinking.

Meanwhile, at the other side, Bez is lost in her dreamland (yes, the hypnotic powers of the white shirt still prevail). They come to a beach and Bez insists on prancing around like a pixie horse in the water. She tugs at JF's shiny silver sword (with a large WD on it, and a mouse head) urging him to leave the sword and come into the water with her.

As JF unbuckles his sword (yes, his sword, NOT his belt, shameless girl), the stalkers creep closer, with DLSRs at the ready. Just at the right moment, Facepalm comes charging with his mushroom enhanced speed, and shoots post-its (the tiny yellow ones) on the screen of the cameras. His job done, he turns and looks at Bez with a straight face. But the enraged paparazzi, prepare to heave their DLSRs at Facepalm!

Bez notices the commotion, but realizes she can do nothing fast enough to save Facepalm. At the same time, Franco starts screaming for help! He's being trapped in the vicious undercurrents churned by Wartortle, Sir *ahem*'s powerful turtle minion.

WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO Facepalm?!? Will Bez be able to save JF from the clutches of his arch nemesis? Find out in the next episode of...

BLACK AND WHITE STRIPES.

Here We Go Again

She whips her hair back and forth. And suddenly, everything that stops you from being whoever you want to be is swept away in the undercurrents of her scent.

A Bread Loaf

1. A house in Ireland. (I'M SORRY! But it just HAD to top the list.)
2. A wharf besides a Scottish loch. Oh and and AND! A little blue boat with just one oar.
3. Someone's lap to sleep on.
4. Front row tickets to this year's Electric Daisy Festival.
5. One of those toy castles in Disneyland. (Somehow they ALWAYS look better than real ones.)
6. An electric car which still sounds like it has a petrol engine.
7. Everlasting headphones. The kind that NEVER gets spoilt.
8. A black kitten called Tabby. (It has to have the cutest paws EVER!)
9. Garden gnomes to fill the backyard of my Irish house with. And they have to be fun sized. So that Tabby can play with them.
10. A chessboard with all the pawns as figurines of people I don't like much.
11. You to get out of the shower.
12. A collection of every picture that was clicked at this EXACT moment all around the world.
13. A fish in the water and a lion in the jungle.
14. A normal broomstick called Firebolt.
15. A never-ending cookie jar.

(to be cont'd...)

Wandering Star

"You take ownership of your innocence when you learn that your first time doesn’t have to be your last time. When someone shows up armed and ready to fight your predilection for distrust, and you, in turn, let your guard down because you desperately want that person to wage war with your common sense, there’s nothing more innocent than that."

Awww! That brings up like THE most adorable images in my head. Sigh.

Melody Nelson

You need to surround yourself with such people. It is a necessity, or so you will discover. Because the path gets harder as we go on. There are obligations and expectations; social, personal. To be, you have to let go of all those. To live in the moment, we can't hold on to anything.

We need more Cole Strykers in this world.

Certaines choses peuvent vous surprendre, mais c'est comme ça.

Sugar Cubes

"And our hearts move closer... at five centimeters per second."

A little nudge. The song you're currently addicted to. That movie you simply adored. That place that still haunts you. All those little things that you do to try and convey your mood to someone.

Because deep inside, you are dying for an appropriate response.

Not the right person. Just the right response.

Watermelon vs. Raspberry

It's been hurting too often, of late. You don't have to add fuel to the fire. Either way, it's burning down. The question is how long do you want it to last? Burning man.

Radical Inclusion
Anyone may be a part of Burning Man. We welcome and respect the stranger. No prerequisites exist for participation in our community.

Decommodification
In order to preserve the spirit of gifting, Burning Man seeks to create social environments that are unmediated by commercial sponsorships, transactions, or advertising. We stand ready to protect our culture from such exploitation. We resist the substitution of consumption for participatory experience.

Radical Self-reliance
Burning Man encourages the individual to discover, exercise and rely on his or her inner resources.

Radical Self-expression
Radical self-expression arises from the unique gifts of the individual. No one other than the individual or a collaborating group can determine its content. It is offered as a gift to others. In this spirit, the giver should respect the rights and liberties of the recipient.

Communal Effort
Burning Man values creative cooperation and collaboration. Burning Man strives to produce, promote and protect social networks, public spaces, works of art, and methods of communication that support such interaction.

Civic Responsibility
Burning Man values civil society. Organizers of events should assume responsibility for public welfare and endeavor to communicate civic responsibilities to participants. They must also assume responsibility for conducting events in accordance with local, state and federal laws.

Leaving No Trace
Burning Man respects the environment. We are committed to leaving no physical trace of our activities wherever we gather. We clean up after ourselves and endeavor, whenever possible, to leave such places in a better state than when we found them.

Participation
Burning Man is committed to a radically participatory ethic. We believe that transformative change, whether in the individual or in society, can occur only through the medium of deeply personal participation. We achieve being through doing. Everyone is invited to work. Everyone is invited to play. We make the world real through actions that open the heart.

Immediacy
Immediate experience is, in many ways, the most important touchstone of value in our culture. We seek to overcome barriers that stand between us and a recognition of our inner selves, the reality of those around us, participation in society, and contact with a natural world exceeding human powers. No idea can substitute for this experience.

Vindictive

Lil 'Arry

'Aggy lil 'Arry

First of all must go
Your scent upon my pillow
And then I'll say goodbye
To your whispers in my dreams

And then our lips will part (no)
In my mind and in my heart
Cause your kiss
Went deeper than my skin

Ay what now?

Lemme tell you 'bout Harry
Harry was the only brit in school with his jeans baggy, hair nappy, teared khaki's,
He used to skateboard and smoke baccy.
Girls used to say: Why is Harry so unhappy?
But he weren't unhappy, he was just Harry.
Happy to chill and smoke weed in an alley.
In a bally told his friends he'd never marry.
No girls ever connect with him.
They never seem interested, they never interested him.
And all the girls in the school were so stuck up,
So caught up in material, it's fucked up.
He said one night, that he would search the world's end,
To find a delta esque(?) and intelligent girlfriend.
Next day, he was in the library, in Highberry
Checking out the X-men comics,
When his eyes done meet the most beautiful woman that he could ever dream of.
All he had to do was just speak to her.

First of all must go (yeah)
Your scent upon my pillow
And then I'll say goodbye
To your whispers in my dreams
And then our lips will part (no)
In my mind and in my heart
Cos your kiss
Went deeper than my skin

Wow, her name was Misha, she was reading Nietzsche.
He said: my name is Harry but people call me weezah,
And nice to meet you.
He couldn't believe fate would play his cause like this,
He would find a girl so quick who had a heart like this.
He fell head over the heels for Misha,
All the other girls seemed 2D, she was 3D.
So much deeper, Jezus, she seemed so perfect.
Life turned beautiful, suddenly seeming worth it.
Misha said she worked with children.
Just turned nineteen, the older women got Harry turnin' decent.
They linked up a couple times after.
Her kiss was like a gift in a myth.
And amidst the laughter she said: You'd be a great father.
What?
This was getting deep, 'cause it would soon get harder.
As her face turned serious she said:
I lied to mask up, the fact I don't work with kids, I'm an erotic dancer.

Poor 'Arry

What's he gonna do now?
Met the love of his life and found out she's a stripper.

The chosen tribulations of a young man.
Thinking what do I do.
She's like the virgin Mary working as a prostitute.
What would you do if she was sweeter than the rest?
Deeper than the rest, but made a living off her breasts?
She said: Don't hate me, 'cause I already hate myself.
He said: I can't hate you, I love you, but fucking hell.
How am I supposed to sleep at night,
Knowing that you're out there skinning poor venitian guys.

That's what Misha said
I've gotta go working now, (?)
Poor Harry, he was just a good guy,
even though he loved her, he knew had to say goodbye.

(Misha on the phone)
Hi Harry, it's me, Misha.
Please don't be mad at me, can't you please pick up the phone?
It's just a job, I don't understand why you just... why you just can't get it.

Harry lived out his life in non-existence
tried to find another Misha, but no one's competition.
Once you find love and lost love, you don't feel anything, just nothing but some old blood
So he got a rope, and on a peice of paper wrote
"I cant cope on my own"
And cried as he put the rope around his throat,
And no one even heard the yell,
As he kicked the stool from underneath his burdened self

*gurgle*

Bus Tickets

Every now and then, that feeling of being plane polarized seems to keep coming back to haunt me. It's very annoying. The things you do for a smooth slide back down, and ending up falling right off the edge of a cliff.

Apparently Egyptians monetize the capital gains of their system. Sigh. At least we now know for a fact that spinach rolls never fail to get the aliens. If only dimensions were arcane, just like Atlantis.

Benevolence has a limit. Have you never realized that revenge ages like wine. Those two are 'my' Dominie Dirtches. One ring and it's all over.

Ciao. TC. Peace out.

The Tooth Fairy

Sigh. I need one of these kinda days.

Continuity

There was this comic strip which showed a kid pondering whether a little dandelion he was holding actually contained another complete universe within itself. Maybe, if he stepped on it, that would mean a billion kazillion other planets all winking out of existence. They say time is the only absolute value on this planet. But how often has that class seemed to stretch for eternity. And how often has the last day with your love before a long stretch at home seemed to last only for seconds. Maybe somewhere out there, E!=MC2.



If there's ONE thing I completely and wholly believe from Hinduism, it's their concept of the wheel of time. Ages come and ages go. But everything seems to have this cycle. After a period of change, it all looks similar.

We're all little sinusoids, waiting to peak at the same time.

Hold On

There is music for every mood. Sometimes I wonder how music is fast becoming a vital criteria for natural selection. Music runs half our social lives. Most of the time, it quite literally decides your liking of a particular person or the way you perceive a memory. And nothing associates to a memory better than music. It's scary. Like that line from Step Up, we all seem to have a rhythm inside. And the need to connect to it grows stronger by the second.

They say INFJs have this 'need' to connect emotionally on some level with every person. They refuse to settle for what they see on the surface. It usually ends up with them trying to artificially create depth where it isn't there, but that's a risk they seem content to live with. And suddenly there's a lack of people to connect with. When you realize that you have been perceiving a depth that isn't actually there, this urge to get away and not be 'wasted'. Four years is not a joke. It's up to us to remember the things that were worth remembering. Intuition has always been our best weapon after all.

The sun is shining everyday. Over the world, it's said.

אני יודע שאתה חיכה כל החיים שלך. חכה רגע, אני בא. חכי לי.

Discretion

IT IS NOT MY FUCKING FAULT THAT YOU CAN NEVER MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND!

We all walk the fine line between instinct and obligation. Mind it.

"We rode on the winds of the rising storm,
We ran to the sounds of thunder.
We danced among the lightning bolts,
And tore the world asunder."

A Dead Mouse

So I'm an ailurophile. And I never knew. It sounds nice. Not many words starting with "ailu" anyway. That uniqueness seems to make it even more fascinating.

Apparently one of the fundamental human tendencies is to classify. So for today's classification, I shall divide the population of my image of this world into two; individualists and collectivists. Somehow, whoever came up with this ended up putting this whole field of study under political philosophy. How the significance of it in other fields seems to have escaped whomsoever it concerns is a complete mystery. You either do your own thing, or you do something you have learned from experience (a collective source).

This movie, a particular "Never Let Me Go", has just managed to completely wreck my emotional stability. Or instability. Either I feel very depressed about the movie, or I feel nothing at all. What I require is physical pain.

I recently came across this question, "What would you attempt if you knew you couldn't fail?" I pondered over this question for a long long while. And I mean a really long while. And you know, the feeling of finally stumbling upon a solution that satisfies you is sheer ecstasy. For fun's sake, I decided to post the question on facebook and wait for some replies. In my opinion, any answer to that question would be a fallacy. If there was no chance of a failure, there would be no sense of competition. If there was no sense of competition, there would be no incentive.

That reminds me, maybe I was wrong in that classification earlier. It's not the population that could be divided into individualists or collectivists. Rather, these two seem to form a fundamental and indivisible trait in each and every person. So rather than being a complete individualist, or a complete collectivist, your mind probably works x% in an individualist manner and y% in a collectivist manner. And that the ratio of these would probably be unique in every single human being.

Damn, now were going recursive.

Ciao. Peace.

Anonymous

You. Yes, you. I am writing this for you.

I know you are reading this. And I want you to know I am writing this for you. No one else will understand. No one else knows. They think that this is for them. But it’s not. I am writing this for you.

I want you to know, life…it’s hard. Every day can be a challenge. It can be a challenge to get up in the morning. To get yourself out of bed. To put on that smile. But I want you to know, that smile is what keeps me going some days. You need to remember, even through the tough times, you are amazing. You really are.

You should be happy. You are gorgeous.

I know that the weather might not be perfect. You might have to turn your back to the wind or feel the cold nipping at your nose. But you know what, at least you are there to feel it. At least you can enjoy the sun’s warm rays on your face. Or that cold February wind biting at your cheeks. You know what that means?

You are alive.

Everything will be okay.

~ Letters I'll Never Send ~

Hannover

Awake. At 6 in the morning. Listening to The Rain Song by Led Zepplin. Reading a bit of Oscar Wilde. And just having finished An Education. Hmmmm... how I love this false feeling of sophistication. It's a really mucky word that, sophistication. It means so much, and yet so much more. The rain is picking up. I should go make myself a cup of coffee.

There's something about living alone that seems very eccentric. The feeling can't quite be described. I just don't get the point of wasting your conscious life being "not" conscious. Long story. Don't bother arguing.

I guess to be agnostic is to know your own limitations. But then again, why would you want to limit yourself. Who are you to fix that "this line here, this is my limitation".

Chow... Tc... Peace out.

Teardrops

"Love, love is a verb
Love is a doing word."

I guess it's something you do unintentionally, subconsciously. If it weren't so, it would be blasphemy. There is so much, OH SO MUCH we all fail to appreciate. If only they could teach us how to not overlook those human errors at school. Now that would bee worth wasting half your life to learn. Because you know the other half will never ever disappoint.

Oh how I wish this smile never fades.

Love, Dragons and Twisted Things

"People were created to be loved.
Things were created to be used.
The reason why the world is in chaos,
is because things are being loved and people are being used."

Is every person worth loving in that way? To appreciate everyone, each for his or her own individuality is fine and all, but to love them? Is love that baseless a thing? Will not sharing it without restraint dim its value. And just imagine, if tomorrow it does not even have value, why will people even try to love.

Sometimes loving things seems a better choice. When that thing seems to immortalize your ideals, preserves it in a way no other thing can, especially not a person, doesn't it seem the right thing to do?

Chow... Tc... Peace out.

Blink

"Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget"

It's not worth it to forget something with spite. To judge your memories is probably the biggest mistake you could make. To learn from your mistakes, you need to treasure them.

"Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Till they're before your eyes
You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say goodbye"

- Regina Spektor

The $h@dE gets Nyan'd

So I din sleep. Like all night. Not a big thing. But yea.

True Story:

I was "Nyan"ing for the past hour or so and i come across this video of a reaction to the original... As soon as it starts the guy watching gets a seizure or something, throws his laptop out and starts rolling on the floor clutching his ears.

Exactly 2 seconds later, my computer crashes.

:| ... FML.

Chow... Tc... Peace Out.

Simplistic Beauty

* DISCLAIMER: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. *


So I'm off on a search to rescue her. She has been snatched by a horrible and evil monster. This probably happened because I made a mistake. Not just one. I made many mistakes during the time we spent together, all those years ago. Memories of our relationship have become muddled, replaced wholesale, but one remains clear: her turning sharply away, her braid lashing at me with contempt. I know she tried to be forgiving, but who can just shrug away a guilty lie, a stab in the back? Such a mistake will change a relationship irreversibly, even if we have learned from the mistake and would never repeat it. Her eyes grew narrower. She became more distant. Our world, with its rules of causality, has trained us to be miserly with forgiveness. By forgiving them too readily, we can be badly hurt. But if we've learned from a mistake and became better for it, shouldn't we be rewarded for the learning, rather than punished for the mistake? What if our world worked differently? Suppose I could tell her: 'I didn't mean what I just said,' and she would say: 'It's okay, I understand,' and she would not turn away, and life would really proceed as though we had never said that thing? We could remove the damage but still be wiser for the experience. Me and her, we lounge in our castle garden, laughing together, giving names to the colorful birds. Our mistakes are hidden from each other, tucked away between the folds of time, safe.

For a long time, I thought we had been cultivating the perfect relationship. I had been fiercely protective, reversing all my mistakes so they would not touch her. Likewise, keeping a tight rein on her own mistakes, she always pleased me. But to be fully couched within the comfort of a friend is a mode of existence with severe implications. To please you perfectly, she must understand you perfectly. Thus you cannot defy her expectations or escape her reach. Her benevolence has circumscribed you, and your life's achievements will not reach beyond the map she has drawn. I needed to be non-manipulable. I needed a hope of transcendence. I needed, sometimes, to be immune to the Princess's caring touch. Off in the distance, I saw a castle where the flags flutter even when the wind has expired, and the bread in the kitchen is always warm. A little bit of magic.

Visiting my home for a holiday meal, I felt as though I had regressed to those long-ago years when I lived under my parents' roof, oppressed by their insistence on upholding strange values which, to me, were meaningless. Back then, bickering would erupt over drops of gravy spilt onto the tablecloth. Escaping, I walked in the cool air toward the university I'd attended after moving out of my parent's home. As I distanced myself from that troubling house, I felt the embarrassment of childhood fading into the past. But now I stepped into all the insecurities I'd felt at the university, all the panic of walking a social tightrope. I only felt relieved after the whole visit was over, sitting back home in the present, steeped in contrast I saw how I'd improved so much from those old days. This improvement, day by day, takes me ever-closer to finding her. If she exists - she must! - she will transform me, and everyone. I felt on my trip that every place stirs up an emotion, and every emotion invokes a memory: a time and location. So couldn't I find her now, tonight, just by wandering from place to place and noticing how I feel? A trail of feelings, of awe and inspiration, should lead me to that castle in the future, her arms enclosing me, her scent fills me with excitement, creates a moment so strong I can remember it in the past. Immediately I walked out my door, the next morning, toward whatever the new day held. I felt something like optimism.

She never understood the impulses that drove me, never quite felt the intensity that, over time, chiseled lines into my face. She never quite felt close enough to me - but I held her as though she were, whispered into her ear words that only a soul mate should receive. Over the remnants of dinner, we both knew the time had come. I would have said: 'I have to go find her,' but I didn't need to. Giving a final kiss, hoisting a travel bag to my shoulder, I walked out the door. Through all the nights that followed, she still loved me as though I had stayed, to comfort her and protect her.

Perhaps in a perfect world, the ring would be a symbol of happiness. It's a sign of ceaselessness devotion: even if I will never find her, I will always be trying. I still will wear the ring. But the thing makes its presence known. It shines out to others like a beacon of warning. It makes people slow to approach. Suspicion, distrust. Interactions are torpedoed before I can open my mouth. In time I learn to deal with others carefully. I match their hesitant pace, tracing a soft path through their defenses. But this exhausts me, and it only works to a limited degree. It doesn't get me what I need. I begin to hide the ring in my pocket. But I can hardly bear it - too long tucked away, that part of me might suffocate.

- A slightly modified excerpt from Braid

Left-Wing Politics

It's annoying to see someone stuck in a particular phase in life. They jus't keep going in circles, from one obsession to another. It's worst when you realize that you were once part of that vicious circle. Not because you regret it. Definitely not that. You might have enjoyed every single moment of it, maybe a little too much, cause you let those memories make a very deep impression on you. And to see someone play around with those memories is not fun.

I have to come to terms with myself. To accept that it's time you stand up for your priorities. I feel like a Marxist in the modern Russian Republic.

Understanding in the end seems to be the pure essence of life. How you percieve. Without it we're all just a bunch of degenerates.

Peace.

Momma Said

Changes come. Life will have it's way, with your pride son. Take it like a man.

Keep your dignity. Take the higher road.

Just like the rain, this too shall pass. It's just a broken heart, son. This pain will pass away.

Into oblivion.


Peace out...

A Feel of Things

"Faith and feelings are the warm marrow of evil. Unlike reason, faith and feelings provide no boundary to limit any delusion, any whim. They are a virulent poison, giving the numbing illusion of moral sanction to every depravity ever hatched.

Faith and feelings are the darkness to reason's light.

Reason is the very substance of truth itself. The glory that is life is wholly embraced through reason, through this rule. In rejecting it, in rejecting reason, one embraces death."

Don't say you don't have the strength to do it. You just don't want to. It's not worth the effort for you. You need to find a meaning for things again. Dismissing everything with contempt will get you nowhere. If you listen hard enough, you will realize that your heart and mind speak the same language. Wake up from this illusion. Or drown in it.

Chow... Peace out...

Game Theory

A girl slapped me today… It felt weird. Not bad. Just weird.
Like she didn’t slap me hard enough.

Somebody taught me to appreciate coincidences. But it was too late when I realized that she herself was lost in them. I appreciated coincidences. She was obsessed with them. Till a point where it had no meaning anymore.

Everything has a price. You just have to get the best bargain.

Dovie'andi se tovya sagain…