I neither get it nor deserve to talk about ways to attain it until I do attain it!
Oh, how all these fat loud fucking mouths of drugged, eroded, jaded and left-out misfits have been talking so much about peace and love without getting it!
most used and least understood! I must keep myself from thinking about these and should never look for these ’cause it’d be giving into advertisement and not the truth for truth is what happens.
Everything’s much more profound… The idea of characters is a smudged rear-view mirror ’cause some writer’s imagination has always been filled with desires and futile attempts to put that in words which cannot be. What largely takes the sheen away from it all one unknown wednesday afternoon is the fact that everything, everywhere is a story. The deception of perception is the darnest lie ’cause it can never be guessed where this river of your ability to ascertain truth is poisoned with what you’d wish to be true ’bout you[some day, any day… any fucking way]… you can no longer decide what’s veritable–in worst case, ’bout yourself–and require ‘them’. Their presence in landscape of your thought marks a point-of-view for self affected by what all enslaves them. It’s like going to the most popular bank and buying what all they are paying debts for… ’cause you couldn’t handle it all by yourself. There is no balance. There is no goodness or bad-ass. There is nothing like positive of negative attitude either. Nothing is for free ever! Associations, affections, indulgences, noises, voices, smells, tastes et cetera, all the things which make us wanting to live also create fear of losing it all ’cause there is human existence without all of it too and winds from that land often make our morning quite hot and humid. The most fucked up fact is that we require to compartmentalize our thought, our perception to keep living. For most of ’em, sanity is thinking and feeling like the rest of ’em, making fear of being entirely alone implicit–it’s okay to fear losing job, money, a cricket/soccer match maybe et cetera. Even falling in love–which is so highly sought for and revered thing ’bout being alive–is practically nothing ’cause it IN FACT IS NOTHING! It doesn’t mean anything, it’s no action, not a conclusion… maybe more useful to the marketing people than to myself! The girl might not share same emotion, the world outside the camera lens is still the way it was yesterday–callous–my abilities, chances for survival, grasp of fearlessness, immunity against pathogens… everything is exactly the same! But, the stories from books, movies and everywhere else has glorified this nothing more than anything. There are only truths… and truth is what happens.
… I am living to reach fearlessness; before I attain that, I ain’t living. Materialistic possessions are weakness–I often find myself in a fix when I am asked what I want to buy… there isn’t anything any more which i’d want to own by buying.
I am in dire need to write and nothing is working! Although I still am going to try and spill what all I had in mind, which has been seriously depleted due to this irritation, however.
I listened to She Will be Loved from Maroon 5 after many years I guess and it took me back… took me aback. There was this time when talking about love, thinking about having her close or telling her how I felt didn’t use to feel like a shameful and weak endeavour. She… received a lot many texts from me which I would never have sent had it been myself like today. Something noteworthy here is how I have always failed to say these things and have always just written. But, why did I begin finding it all so futile. It was as if I began hating red because I saw myself bleed. Why innocense can be killed by realization that it has been refuted and used by people who didn’t really care. Can you not see what they’re losing in all of this? I listen to entirely different kind of music now and embrace a different picture of the world, the one which revealed itself when I could see beyond my own desires. Or did I? Desires and wishes cannot be given up until you’re not dead. I have just found how badly I wanted to see my truth as an apple while it was a peach… I lived in the delusion that I have an apple. But then there was chemistry of it, the mathematics involved in bonds of the molecule it was built with. Me today is one who’s aware of that chemistry. No realization shattered it more than the fact that I wasn’t even looking. Willing to talk is not weak. But it is not for me at the moment due to chemical structure of molecule of my truth–there are only metallic bonds in it. Existence of lie is a truth which shouldn’t actually hamper your understanding of how to associate with things. My association with music is profoundly self-explanatory. I liked soft melodies which were about a life being beautiful only upon having someone to care for or be cared by. Hailing from a small town and a failing family, I, with dreams and restlessness to break free, developed assocaition with things which one could be associated to only in a lopsided state of mind. But one thing is exactly like it was–my inside which is outside myself… it’s an observer, a storyteller who is hungry and devastated because he cannot find what he’s looking for. I am still holding on to that childhood dream… one which didn’t know where the line was. All realities are dream without a reference, a litmus test. My reality has suddenly began to skin itself to reveal the dream in its veins because my reference wasn’t what most of them believed to be. Oh, how lacerating the wrist is the most beautiful metaphor for what I have lived so far! Even funny is the fact that I have never harmed myself with blade… never saw pain in it. Well, seems you can never see the pain anyway ’cause it can only be felt in visuals from the memory, the ones which you can forget, but they cannot forget you… you’re their home for heaven’s sake! I require you to believe that you can NEVER lose who you are, your education and your knowledge–the hue of experiences–because it all exists within you, around you… in your being. The only thing which is holding you back is this feeling of loss… of dreams, of love, people, truth, a house you loved, a place where you ‘could be’ et cetera… And I ask why… why are you thinking that anything can take away from you your being? You will always be who you actually are! The only thing is that their reference, sort of IUPAC of reality, is to monetarize everything and then call it real and unreal… and your dreams have been so far sub-zero kelvin on their scale. So? So what?
Because you expect it from yourself… and you are biased! Existence of ego gets you making up things inside your head which in first place get you fucking expecting! You’re a pile of crap! You are what you be able to do! You can know yourself only from the experiences you’ve been through.. and they’re never good or bad.
… On the contrary, all the realizations must be crushing and shattering.. that deep. I am fake ’cause I’m writing it here.. while immediate action must follow! The balance, the decorum and understanding of how I must be behaving are the things which never let me be!
Ghost of Perdition, Opeth #nowplaying
Pointlessness of Pity
“1940-41 saw also political influences on the census but in opposite direction; since whereas the difficulty in 1941 was to defeat an excess of zeal.
It can be taken as certain that this single instance operated heavily to secure perhaps the fullest record yet achieved in an Indian census. The whole population was census conscious or at any rate the active part of it.”
Probably it’s logical to conclude that basic of problem of India is a people who has time and again failed to earn themselves a living. This lead to generations of dependence on leaders who themselves just focused on ‘earning’. People were forced to give away daughters, mothers were sick and hungry and pale… men saw it all slipping away and receded to escapism… the sons who lived were promised paradise in schemes, the same schemes funding which is now impoverishing Govt and forcing Finance Ministry to hope PRIVATE SECTOR to play saviour as 1991 kind economic crisis looms. We could very well be 1.02 billion people with fed bellies, the economy of world lopsided towards us ’cause over 1 billion brains and earning hands is a massive resource! But what we’re doing instead? Giving away free condoms and garbage-men cleaning thrown away babies! Why must I pity any damned one! I must just focus on earning a good living!
I don’t like to say it to myself. But, worse is that whether I tell it to myself aloud, just whisper stealthily, or keep running from it… fact is that I don’t understand what freedom is… not entirely… and hence maybe, not at all. I was born in freedom… chained by this insolent blindness.
They have failed in stopping prostitution. And it didn’t bother you candle light crusaders, huh?
Going to red-light area was one the earliest things guys did once they came to hostel in 1st semester… it never stopped for many, while few got girlfriends etc. Did you think only labourers, rickshaw pullers etc succumb to their yearning like this? The clientele is quite huge!
These same people are are now required to keep ‘regular’ girls[ones who don’t have themselves called prostitutes by society] from being raped..
Capitalism thrives chiefly on creating few people and making them seem more fortunate, and hence getting the on-looker wish for a bite of his fortune. Those who are strong know that any day they can fall prey… so they keep hunting.