i realized, that to be in love doesn't have to be painful. that it can be a happy experience

Step 1
get high

Step 2
put on youtube, and load videos of each of these 5 artists:
A) Justin bieber B) Eminem ft. rihanna ft. megan fox C) Jay sean D) Adele and E) John mayer

Step 3
begin watching them one by one
as soon as you have a boner or get wet,
pause

whose video are you on ?

If the answer is
A - you're a teenage girl / child molester
B - you're a regular heterosexual male aged 14 - 90
C - you're gay/ a regular heterosexual female in her 20's
D - you're a lesbian/ a thinking heterosexual male
E - you're a thinking heterosexual female/ sexually ambiguous

Bonus definition
Narcissist: if you ever get a boner looking in the mirror

Fade in Music. Lusty Guitar Riffs in the distance. Industrial Base distortion in the air. Rich kids on crack shouting like their genitals are on fire.
And they ought to be, for Rock ‘n’ Roll is the Devil’s worship. When the musty drugs are high, and the cheap beer kicks in; when the sweat is hot, and the hormones take control – Music is salvation. The odd guitar lick gyrates in your head, it’s opiate vibrations feeding on the most extreme thoughts in your brain, reminding you how your life is spinning out of control – how your average tequila vomits per week are higher than your college attendance, or how that tasteful chick with the perky tits you met at a poet friend’s place is doing the rounds of your wet dreams more than your current girlfriend does, or how you’re jerking off on the orange napkins your mother gifted you the last month you bathed, when you’re not stealing money from her purse to massage your narcotic lifestyle.
Yet you scream till your kidneys explode, and try to forget that life will always suck for an average person like you. That’s when you know that you’re in a rock concert, a shrine of Lucifer – a revolutionary, a non-conformist, a leader, a giver of hope.
Welcome to BITS Pilani.

I wish I was not sitting in this class. I wish I was on the top of a waterfall, poised to jump the life out of my purposeless existence in a white-collar management establishment. A nameless, burgeoning voice is shouting in the halls of my depravedness; spewing out - positional authority, uselessly dissected practicality; traditional, clerical, technical methods to evaluate meaningless, empirical data – a white cloud of perspiring August Noise fills the room like my nightmares throng with sad promises of an average life.
Confused voices, unsure of their cradle and consequence, jet from above and behind, assuming their goals for their dreams. Their smiles are innocent, their minds are drifting, in a pale sea of imposed conformity. They are not to blame, they operate in a delirium. A delirium of a vague rapture, not of a calm trance.
But then, there's always the hot seniors. And so, tranquility sets in.

Why the fuck did I keep this stupid title for the blog ?

Is it just me or do you too look at yourself from a few years ago and go, "what a punk"

Maybe I thought the fancy words together would sound smart.


I feel sometimes the great divide, within
Makes it easy to blend in anywhere. But makes one as much a misfit, as popular.

people are so entertaining. I probably look creepy when sometimes I'm just looking around observing them.

I thought " oh shit how how big does that boy look since i last saw him as a kid !" and then i thought " oh shit how fucking old am i to be saying shit like that already. when did i
become, old .. er .. ish ?
this is a new feeling.

Every man should grow a beard once.
It liberates
and you'd be taken by how much people react to it
nothing says more " I don't give a shit " than a beard.

Is it not a curse, for when a photographer looks at something beautiful, the first thought that comes to his mind is
" how good would this look in a picture !"

or maybe I'm just rambling

He felt confined and suffocated, not just by his current predicaments, but by existence in general. Afterall survival was little more than a myriad, constant struggle to not get screwed. He failed to see the point of it all, but couldn’t find an alternative. As a result he felt condemned to suffer as a prisoner of life.

One day, it finally occurred to him that his prison had no bars.

With that came an ocean of fear and guilt, threatening to consume him. Survival wasn’t obligatory, just that it was hardcoded into our brain and reinforced by social conditioning. Maybe it was perfectly fine to choose not to live. Would it be the cowardly way out? Was there a difference between loosing the will to live and using death as an escape from one’s inadequacies? He was not a quitter, of that he was sure, almost. Still, with every passing day he found it harder to persevere and even harder to accept the diabolical alternative that ravaged his fantasies. And then in an agonizing moment of complete surrender; he conceded. Regardless of everything, everybody, he really, surely, wanted to die. When? Well...Not yet, there was plenty of time.

And thus it came to pass that Atlas was permitted the opinion that he was at liberty, if he wished, to drop the Earth and creep away; but this opinion was all that he was permitted.

Image Courtesy : abstrusegoose.com

Time runs by at its own blinding speed,
why has it left me behind?
Days end, dates change,
mere numbers tumbling over each other.
Running in circles round and round,
I feel lost, never to be found.
Probably its too late for me now,
I am time's very own abandoned child.