yesterday night we had 18 guys in our house. 10 beds. so juju hari and me took the bike and set off. no destination is mind. just like that. drove outside raipur. like 20 kms on a deserted highway we settled in a really small hamlet. there were few houses. totally dark. as soon as we stepped into some unseen boundary of the village about four dogs from four corners started barking. brilliant sync. there was a pond and a small temple on it bank. we were there till 3am. putting mokkai.
then we came back and went to the tapri for tea by 5. i have no idea when i came home. i had walked back home alone and slept off. since i woke up really strange mood. chelsea won. ha. as such i prefer manu to chelsea. infact before i came college i used to hate chelsea. but two of best friends are chelsea fans and i have given up my hate for them.
close you eyes. darkness. how good is it? for light you need a source. for darkness no source. just close your eyes its there. its so comforting. light shows you a lot of things. painful at times. darkness shows you nothing. imagine. expand. thrill. the last 15 days i have felt real strange. loads of negative energy that i am never used to feel about me. fuck it. when i was talking with daba over some topic the word rape came out. i asked why do girls fuss too much about rape. bloody some dick or the other is going to get inside. why so much fuss about whose it is. i mean i dont give a shit which vag my dick goes into. pros whore or a gf. biological stuff should not be associated with emotions that are deep. just pleasure. maybe later i would feel bad for telling daba this but she never really judges me. i can forgive myself bloody easily. i should learn to atleast exhibit stuff like real regret and all. sometimes it infuriates me that i forgive myself so easily.
we went to orbit for burgers. there was this 30ish looking lady in jeans who had three kids with her. all girls. totally adorable. the lady was teaching the elder one how to eat the noodles. the second one was taking one noodle strand and tried to feed her self. first she dropped it into her nose. then she learnt how to eat. and she patiently ate the noodle one by one. the youngest one was walking by the ice cream storage. so short she was unable to peep in. and the elder girl who is not more than 3 and who can just about take a peep if she stood on her toes, came and lifted the youngest one to help her see the ice creams. and just then another family walked in. the dad had sama thoppai. two kids. the kids were eating chuski or those colored cola crushed ice. and the younger kid, spilt some syrup on his shirt. that father hit the kid on the back on the head. fuck. i wanted to hit him. never. ever. hit a guy in the back of his head. cowards. the mother was looking at this other mom of three kids who was in jeans. for once i was able to infer what this women might have been thinking. and the bad dad was looking at us in weird way.
ulcers. usually they go away in a week or two. strangely they have been troubling me for more than 10 days. so today went and had chat and all that and tortured it. bloody painful. but that tamarind juice can only cure the ulcers. and that sweet juice that the ulcers secrete later. and a new alcohol shop. when life is too exiting , too unpredictable go and get drunk. coz there is nothing predictable as alcohol. get sloshed , sleep some where and wake up and drive home. nothing more. such predictability. alcohol and ciggs are never cool or anything. i consume them because they are pointless. in the quantity i consume they dont harm me. neither do me any good. see pointless. if there was some point in drinking or smoking it would loose all its charm.
i asked my room mate to stand steady so i could slap him. like i said feels weird today. want to hit some one bloody hard. some kind of monster. i would like to make my own music one day. i cant play the guitar that well. but i want to make some music. heavy fast. and melodic. fuck lyrics. no lyrics. i have a general dislike for languages and written stuff. not strong. but its there. more than 8 years i have lived in the hindhi speaking part of india yet i cant speak it that well. i dont like hindi. yes i cant understand it , read and write it. the way loads of indians go hindhi hamara rashtabashtra hai. its our national language. why dont you know hindhi. what they dont speak hindhi in madrasi. oi madrasi. bastards. and my english is so bad. i cant sting together few words yes. i dont know the spelling of even th basic words. true story. grammer is whatever seems to make sense. and handwriting. i cant decipher it myself. fuck infact i dont know an language properly. like all the dimensions.
i wrote two stories today. one was like outline of what i would like to write. a different version of ramayana. where hanuman rescues sita from lanka, falls for her beauty rapes her kills her and puts blame on ravana. rama wages war and wins it. but he looses his peoples respect as he waged a war for his personal reason. a rebellion and he is over thrown. i mean what fucking justice is this? rama the one lady man is god. krishna the polygamist playboy is good too. both are correct. fucked. the other one was about a first date and all that jazz.spikes
it takes a real cynic to write these inspirational move your life books no? romanticists can only read. they cant read. bastards. romanticists are not romantic enough to create something. and those are cynics are not cynical enough to destroy. bloody i need some heavy music now. even lamb of god is not heavy enough now. dimmu borgir. ah fuck music. its try to channel my anger my energy. is there anything that doesnt try to do something? or maybe it just metal let me listen to harris jeyaraj. or justin biber. or limpbiz kit.
you know there are these bloggers who are superficial. i mean to me. they are true to themselves. maybe not. but the point is they write in such english that i have nothing to say to them. many blogs like sherry's, that sugar magnolias , jeenas i read, enjoy and shut it. like i said nothing to say. one wonders if they appreciate simplicity. in real simple terms. oh i read some articles on this metal fight that has broken over the net between indian metal critics and the metal bands. they are not against each other. section of both sections against over each other. over music. over whorifying. such shit. i shall write about it later. i have nothing better to do.
bloody since the month i decided to start reading again i have always been bankrupt.jinx.and now i shall sleep.nighty night.
ps-yes pretty much pointless