Dark Matter

To Nikhila. Shine on, you crazy diamond...

"I have no idea where my life is taking me. I'm just riding the waves of time, enjoying things while they last and such. But then again, we thought time was an illusion."

- Anonymous

Windmills

The world is not enough.

It never was.

Never will be.

Ciao. Peace out..

The closest to heaven you've ever been...

The next time you meet someone you love, someone you know who is worth it, spend some time sitting together staring silently at the ceiling. Dream together. Let your fingers crawl all over them. Feel those creases in their life that you have helped make. Those that you will always be proud of. The ones that you will remember for a lifetime. Talk less, feel more. Set aside all the traumas that society or religion have inflicted upon you. Embrace your human side. Let loose and take the time to caress their hair. Snake your fingers through theirs, knowing that whether it lasts or not, this moment makes all the difference. The contact of finger tips, lips brushing against skin, eyelashes fluttering on their cheeks, drops of priceless tears washing your soul, purging themselves of sin or vice.

Do something without thinking. Do it without worrying about the exam tomorrow, or that deadline you have to meet. Do it without thinking of consequences. Do it knowing that you will NEVER regret it. That there is no looking back. That some day or the other, life will get back at you for it. And that you will embrace repentance like a hug from an old friend.

Thank them every now and then. Thank them for waiting for you. Thank them for not. Thank them for considering it worth their time. Thank them for not realizing it's importance. Thank them for remembering it fondly. Thank them for not caring, for not holding on to wistful teenage fantasies. Thank them for keeping in touch. Thank them for forgetting you existed. Thank them without a thought. Thank them mercilessly.

Because undeserved gratitude is that single force in the world that can make your life come down on it's knees, begging for forgiveness; or reveal the truth of how meaningless it all is. 

So High, Level 5

Total loss of visual connection with reality. The senses cease to function in the normal way.

Total loss of ego. 

Merging with space, other objects or the universe. The loss of reality becomes so severe that it defies explanation. The earlier levels are relatively easy to explain in terms of measureable changes in perception and thought patterns. This level is different in that the actual universe within which things are normally perceived, ceases to exist. 

Satori.

A drug can NEVER induce an emotion. The bitter truth. To think that more than half of the world exists without having lived this experience. Without being able to differentiate between the two. Without being able to truly realize the power of their emotions. Quite the tragedy.


Peace out.

Pillows

I am Vineet’s plagued cough. I reek of the weariness of life’s discrepancies; conflicting emotions and such. The things that make you grimace at your achievements and retrospect your influences. I remind you of that song which you have deleted from your iPod, for obvious reasons. The one which leaves a bitter taste in the mouth with the flood of memories it brings back. I conceal all positivity, make a mockery of happiness. I make you double-check whether you should be wearing that smile on your face.

I am Vineet’s heightened sense of displeasure. I am every decision in your life you wish you could take back. I am the look which messes up your chain of thought, makes you shuffle uneasily. I am the gesture of detachment, the one that makes you cut the call midway, even though you never like doing it. I am the No Entry sign on the doorstep, restricting your freedom, warning you of impending consequnces. I am the sound of balloons deflating, engines shutting down, crowds being silenced.

“I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.”

- The Beatles

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."