Foray into the unknown

How often have you gazed at the sky and lost yourself? I haven’t… Frankly, every time I look at the stars I feel the urgent download of every earthly problem weighting down on my forehead. To call it mildly discomforting is an understatement. What propels me to still indulge in such a mind numbing task is the simple fact that the crapper isn’t cutting it anymore. The golden pot of golden thoughts seems to have lost its divine ability to glean pointless bits of information, percolate and present me with an eureka moment. Face it, I’m sure some of the world’s greatest thoughts must have had their humble beginnings from the pot of wisdom. Ask Churchill or Edison, they swore by it. So what then seems to be off? Well, for one, I just cant seem to have enough time. Then there’s the upcoming workday firing up hotter than the exhaust on a space shuttle. How can one relax and pinch a loaf with presentation decks and spreadsheets being processed in the background at a rate of a few Gbps. Couple that with an out-of-control Blackberry addiction and what you have is someone who’s nurturing nervous tics by the hour.

I used to be different – laid back and easy going. But that was when the old man footed bills and chewed my ear off. You see, the secret to happiness is having someone else worry about your life. No, seriously, if someone asked me if I hated being yelled at as a kid, I say, “no”! That’s because so long as someone yelled, I figured they actually gave a damn. Now, with someone giving a damn about my life, I had all the time in the world to kick back and indulge in trips of fantasy. The mind is a temple… Or at least an amusement park in my case. Years of piling inane pointless education onto the poor roller coaster has resulted in some cracked wheels and wobbly rails. It isn’t really that I’m coming unhinged, but the possibility that one heavy run on the tracks could turn me into a doddering buffoon has crossed the very same mind in question.

If you’re still reading, I salute you sir, for you seem to have a firm handle on your priorities. You see, delving into something as meaningless as reading this trash means you have someone giving a damn. I say, utilize this time to goof off, chase butterflies or shave cats; whatever tickles your fancy. Take it from me, coming unhinged isn’t exactly repairable. It’s the ugly accident you read about – where 15 clowns rode the big ride and clown viscera decorate the once cheerful fun land that you called your mind!

 

COMEDY? Think again...

People have a messed up sense of what comprises of humour. Yeah, I’m talking of the times when you sit down to watch a movie tagged “comedy” and 5 minutes into the trap my expression’s close to (O.o), also known as the WTF!?! Forget the immediate urge to assault oneself for not having read the tags more clearly, but forgive me, I was looking for humour, not  an opportunity to conduct in-depth research into what the “feel” of a movie is by deciphering people’s so called reviews. The reviews are a class apart! People tend to assume they are highly regarded critics who know exactly what the Director, Producer, Actors and the rest of the con artists have been up to. Massive references to past works and the Director’s talent leaves me wondering if these critics even have an idea as to who the hell gives a damn!

Anyways. Back to why I’m here cribbing about something as obscure as a comedy – I spent a good whole day downloading the movie and after a hard day’s work (yes, I do work hard. No, its not in porn.) I just wanted to kick back and enjoy a good laugh. There are literally hundreds of movies out there rated as hits (IMDB, of course) while not providing an iota of entertainment. You see, I’ve stumbled upon a little known cache of the talkies that are boring as dirt but are marketed as “comedy”, albeit with an artistic twist. I know art – it evokes emotion. However, if art labeled comedy ends up evoking an emotion to smash the director’s head through plate glass, its suddenly a sub genre called “drama”.

Reminds me of my Dad who wanted to be melodramatic with us as kids decided to make up his own joke, on the fly, and with a moral at the end to boot. Yup, he would definitely know what “Comedy, Drama” in a single movie means. Point is he trailed off… The ‘joke’ wasn’t funny. Hell, I lost my appetite at the dinner table ‘cos his joke had a bum who got helped out by some sweet lady (both of them old – a prerequisite in case of dramatic comedy!). I still have no idea what sort of impact he wanted to have on his kids, but then on my brother and I bolted each time he decided to tell us a joke.

Dear director, screenplay artist, story writer of this inane flick which you consider funny drama – it isn't funny. And if I wanted drama, I’d just call my girlfriend fat. I need neither. Also, I’m not some mindless hick who has no appreciation for the finer things in life – I just prefer I wasn’t ambushed with drama when I’m looking for Comedy! Ah well, I’d be more pissed but I just realized I got a pirated copy. Long live P2P, life is too full of crap to be shelling out money for it

Its funny how you resort to words when you know the guy in front of you is gonna give you a black eye on the first mention of philosophy... so don you worry, there ain't nothin I wanna tell you that you don wanna listen to. It’s the same... over and again. Coming back to why I’m back here... It’s funny how ethanol gets you writing on walls and freaks out roommates... No, really... it did. I really don't know what I did write (I’ll probably figure it out tomorrow) and why I did it but it must have something to do with the loss of a dear one... sometime people ARE right and you do have to let go. There's not much you can do. Its not like a hard disk you can reformat and convince it that everything’s fine... sometimes you just have to let go. But the fact that still does eat me is that I’m so crippled, so incapable of handling this situation, that I have to get here and tell you that I’m all messed up. Fuck You!

Ugh! My head hurts... If no one ever told you this, once you're back from a party just go to sleep. Here I am, listening to soft rock and alternative, my brain oscillating between extremes... I can actually feel my ears burning. Its all good though, I'm not dying so don't no one worry. Anyways, I just figured it'd help (me) after all the ranting, if I could just say the day went pretty good.

As for the freaking Superbowl number where Aerosmith made an appearance (where they had those cool para gliders), if you could tell me the name of that song I'd be ever grateful. Meanwhile I'm gonna go back to rocking and killing on GTA:LCS on ma PSP. So all you peasants can go on with your meaningless lives. So adieu dear friends.... I'm leavin you hangin...........

Accounts. Just hearing that word my heartbeat hits 120rpm and a cold sweat breaks out... Not to mention I jus can’t stay awake. Paradoxical feelings make me think it’s the design of the Devil! Of course I'm wrong! There are a million accountants out there swearing by those numbers! Oh how I wish I could just gather all those textbooks, set them on fire and then throw that accounts lecturer in it. I’d watch her blaze and laugh (MWAHHWHHAHAHAAA!!!!!!)

Now before you think I’ve totally lost it, consider this: I sit through the first lecture on the very first day and then she walks in. I screw up my eyes in concentration, whip out the notebook, grip the new pen tight and wait for pearls of wisdom to pour forth. Five minutes into the lecture my eyes are glazed and my cerebral mass is all fused into one gooey mass like the ball of clay I suddenly find my attention and fingers riveted to. I make a table, a chair, a man (somewhat resembling me when high) and feel proud that my artistic skills haven't disappointed me... What’s that!? The lecture? Oh yeah.... that eventually got over, and ever since, I have never been able to understand a word of that gibberish! Japanese actually makes more sense to me! (FYI, it’s my Foreign Business Language)

Here I stand, all humble (and frustrated) that no matter what I do (I’ve tried studying, really!) I just can’t seem to break ice with the damn numbers! I’m like an autist, except that in my case its reverse, I can’t fuckin stand numbers. I hate them and I can’t live without them (money) so my predicament is something of a pain in the ass! As always, I tackle the problems in life head-on (that explains why my skull's so dented) but this one subject has me stumped. It’s beaten me, dragged my face in dirt and has even made me think I'm retarded (not too bad except that I cant live off my parents forever). Hence, with renewed vigor and commitment after the sobering incident today (Accounts mid sems), I, Lord of the Numbers, pledge to beat the Financial Geeks at their own game!!! Ciao, I’m off to party now… Maybe I’ll be Lord of the Numbers from tomorrow… or whatever…..

Being away from home is like being in heaven: The freedom is awesome but all the smoke just hurts too bad. Don't blame the writer, he's far too hungry and thirsty and (basically jus being a biatch) going through the whole "7pm's too late to be day and too early to party so my life just sucks!" phase.

Coming back to why I'm writing here: I've had an account here too long ago, wrote jackshit and now I'm stuck with an awesome deepblue powered laptop that could knock the socks off those core duo machines any day (be a skeptic when reading this. Always.) Anyways, the inane banter is a result of a dangerous cocktail of nicotine, preliminary pneumonia, chhole bathura and the 7 pm I mentioned earlier.

Besides, its good to be actually using the queen's language after 2 frustrating months since the most I can converse in English with the locals is the F phrase. They seem to understand it. Its a universal phenomenon. You could be bungee jumping in Crete or getting Nigerian bullets pulled out of your ass, its all the same. The ever-present F*** is the cure-all for any situation.

As would any self respecting attention monger, I started this blog with a deep sense of humanity, of wanting to reach down into the depths of my muddled soul to somehow (dramatically da-dum) pull out the solution to all of life's problems. All I managed to do was retch and came dangerously close to choking. Don't get me wrong, I'm good and all (ROTFLMAO) but somehow you cant reap what's not sown and so here I am blowing smoke outta my ass.

Coming to ASS.... (I think this is pretty much all you can handle for today so ill leave my musings on my posterior for another day...)