I just don't know how to say it - so I'm going to flatly write it out: I left Flic-En-Flac and am now living in Quatre-Bornes. This won't change much in the blog because I still visit Flic-En-Flac from time to time. I still thought it'd be good to tell everybody about it.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Are they all taken?
We were truly laughing, truly and sincerely content with the conversation. And then she exclaimed: "D'you have a girlfriend?"
- "No," says I
I tried to get serious. I asked her the same.
- "Yes, I have many girlfriends!"
And we started to laugh again. I wasn't really sure, so I still asked:
- But do you have a boyfriend?
- Yes... I do.
I wanted to fall down from my chair. This is a fucked up world. Are all the 18-25 year olds already taken? Like, all of the good ones? Am I too late or something? I don't really understand which train I missed. This is fucked up.
- "No," says I
I tried to get serious. I asked her the same.
- "Yes, I have many girlfriends!"
And we started to laugh again. I wasn't really sure, so I still asked:
- But do you have a boyfriend?
- Yes... I do.
I wanted to fall down from my chair. This is a fucked up world. Are all the 18-25 year olds already taken? Like, all of the good ones? Am I too late or something? I don't really understand which train I missed. This is fucked up.
Friday, September 15, 2006
My keyboard
I'm not too sure if this is my first post from a foreign computer. Writing those words on a different keyboard with a different layout with different sounds: it just feels like I'm cheating on my PC.
Yes, I like this keyboard, and I like the sounds that its keys make. Under a falsely melodious drumming sound, letters, words, sentences and paragraphs appear. I have ceased to look at the keyboard when I type and now I feel that I can only appreciate the sounds that my fingers make when they hit the keys consecutively. Nothing satisfies me more than a keyboard that moans and groans when stroked. A keyboard that I can genly caress and that makes me feel like a real user.
Yes, I like this keyboard, and I like the sounds that its keys make. Under a falsely melodious drumming sound, letters, words, sentences and paragraphs appear. I have ceased to look at the keyboard when I type and now I feel that I can only appreciate the sounds that my fingers make when they hit the keys consecutively. Nothing satisfies me more than a keyboard that moans and groans when stroked. A keyboard that I can genly caress and that makes me feel like a real user.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Free Online Music
Listen to free online music with our site: www.DiscoverOurMusic.com!
Yes, it's absolutely free, and we have around 550 music files. No signup required.
Yes, it's absolutely free, and we have around 550 music files. No signup required.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Discover Our Music.com
DiscoverOurMusic.com is the site I co-own with my buddy Kristine. The whole project was her idea, and I've produced the HTML, codebehind and SQL code. Kristine did help me a lot with the new version's SQL code though - because yes, there is a new version that's coming out pretty soon.
The template ain't crap anymore. We added some google ads, we have an artist page, a classifieds section, a flash music player on the artist's page (instead of a Windows Media Player pop-up) - and we hope to have everything up and running by next week.
If you're a music artist, why choose us instead of MySpace? The answer's simple - because MySpace ain't specialised in Music. MySpace is a networking site - huge - around 105 million users - and it can't be compared to a community anymore. You'll be placing your music on MySpace but you will still have to compete against all the non-music content that people are submitting over there, i.e. pictures, movies, blog entries and personal information. Finding your music would be similar to finding something on the net.
We're a site which focuses on the music - people looking for music will come to our site to listen to you. That is why we're better, and that is what we're going to prove very soon.
The template ain't crap anymore. We added some google ads, we have an artist page, a classifieds section, a flash music player on the artist's page (instead of a Windows Media Player pop-up) - and we hope to have everything up and running by next week.
If you're a music artist, why choose us instead of MySpace? The answer's simple - because MySpace ain't specialised in Music. MySpace is a networking site - huge - around 105 million users - and it can't be compared to a community anymore. You'll be placing your music on MySpace but you will still have to compete against all the non-music content that people are submitting over there, i.e. pictures, movies, blog entries and personal information. Finding your music would be similar to finding something on the net.
We're a site which focuses on the music - people looking for music will come to our site to listen to you. That is why we're better, and that is what we're going to prove very soon.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
80th Post
Poverty is an amazing thing. It slowly slides under you, like a knowing shark lurks beneath a surfer's board. You don't realise in how much shit you are until the jaws of this by-product of our capitalistic society have finally closed upon you: you're done for, without a cent to spend. You won't get access to cigarettes, and you will have to resort to a week-long diet of instant noodles. And maybe tuna fish on good days.
A poor me is writing and posting this 80th post, convinced that trying to summon any form of inspiration inside of me will only bring out farts.
A poor me is writing and posting this 80th post, convinced that trying to summon any form of inspiration inside of me will only bring out farts.
A Test Post
This is a test post. People usually do test posts the day they create their blogs, but I felt that creating a test entry on my 79th post was something pretty neat to do.
Actually, I'm showing one of my buddies how you can create posts on blogger.com. It seems she recently got all crazy about blogs, and is thinking of offering blogs to the whole world.
Actually, I'm showing one of my buddies how you can create posts on blogger.com. It seems she recently got all crazy about blogs, and is thinking of offering blogs to the whole world.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
A Post Made Of Nothing
The internet is being flooded with new content: news, videos, stories, music... How can I ever contribute something original to this massive flood of information, this monstruous tsunami of zeros and ones? A blog post would be comparable to a drop of water falling in a lake in the blogsphere. It would never make a difference on the internet.
After a desperate search for originality, an amazing idea hit me: Yes, I will write about nothing. If the internet has everything, I'll give it nothing. Some of my readers might be reassured to hear that for once, I'm sparing them some of my desperate pseudo-romantic short-lived love affairs or the beach-bum related news of Flic-En-Flac; but be prepared, because there's a lot I want to say about nothing.
Nothing, I believe, is my greatest talent. It is the common denominator of all my blog posts and the very foundation behind my ideas and motives. Even if I have no whatsoever affiliation with Freddy (also known as Friedrich Nietzsche), I sincerely recognise and applaud the Nihilist school of thought. Our existence has no particular purpose and goal. We are therefore the children of the Nothing.
There is no conclusion to this article, because it might become something if I add one. There will be no memory of it once I've posted it (doublethink is closely related to nothing, I believe) and hopefully, it will truly become something close to nothing the day Dumbie (also known as George Bush) accidentally presses the "Fire" button on the nuke control instead of the one on his XBox and blasts out Mountain View, effectively destroying Google and all related services such as Blogger.com where my blog is hosted.
After a desperate search for originality, an amazing idea hit me: Yes, I will write about nothing. If the internet has everything, I'll give it nothing. Some of my readers might be reassured to hear that for once, I'm sparing them some of my desperate pseudo-romantic short-lived love affairs or the beach-bum related news of Flic-En-Flac; but be prepared, because there's a lot I want to say about nothing.
Nothing, I believe, is my greatest talent. It is the common denominator of all my blog posts and the very foundation behind my ideas and motives. Even if I have no whatsoever affiliation with Freddy (also known as Friedrich Nietzsche), I sincerely recognise and applaud the Nihilist school of thought. Our existence has no particular purpose and goal. We are therefore the children of the Nothing.
There is no conclusion to this article, because it might become something if I add one. There will be no memory of it once I've posted it (doublethink is closely related to nothing, I believe) and hopefully, it will truly become something close to nothing the day Dumbie (also known as George Bush) accidentally presses the "Fire" button on the nuke control instead of the one on his XBox and blasts out Mountain View, effectively destroying Google and all related services such as Blogger.com where my blog is hosted.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Sunflower's Engagement
I dunno how she did it - but she did it. After several months of bitchin' the world about Kevin, she finally got engaged! Aveisha - I'm so happy for you! Kevin - I'm so sorry buddy.
First of all, this was no ordinary engagement party. It was Aveisha's. A huge tent had been installed outside, and 100-150 chairs had been arranged for the guests. Everybody ('cept for probably me) was neatly dressed and a notice reading "Please dump the toilet paper in the bin provided. If you don't want to dump it, swallow it" was stuck inside the toilet.
Aveisha's engagement is the beginning of a pattern that might last for several more years - friends getting engaged and married, one after the other. Pretty soon, they'll start having kids, and their kids will get married and... well, anyway -
I finally met Kevin. I spent a few minutes talking to him and I can say that I was rather surprised. Aveisha's definitely got one hell of a character, and I always thought that the guy who'd end up with her would need to have nerves of steel and have followed some kind of training to dodge projectile electric household appliances; but no - Kevin is actually a nice guy with a warm smile. The world is full of surprises.
First of all, this was no ordinary engagement party. It was Aveisha's. A huge tent had been installed outside, and 100-150 chairs had been arranged for the guests. Everybody ('cept for probably me) was neatly dressed and a notice reading "Please dump the toilet paper in the bin provided. If you don't want to dump it, swallow it" was stuck inside the toilet.
Aveisha's engagement is the beginning of a pattern that might last for several more years - friends getting engaged and married, one after the other. Pretty soon, they'll start having kids, and their kids will get married and... well, anyway -
I finally met Kevin. I spent a few minutes talking to him and I can say that I was rather surprised. Aveisha's definitely got one hell of a character, and I always thought that the guy who'd end up with her would need to have nerves of steel and have followed some kind of training to dodge projectile electric household appliances; but no - Kevin is actually a nice guy with a warm smile. The world is full of surprises.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
A Typical Essay
In primary school, my teachers used to accuse me of submitting work which I hadn't authored. Well, I admit that I had my mom copy french verbs for me once or twice, but I've always authored every essay I turned back.
An essay from a typical primary school student isn't exactly something original though: teachers make sure that each one of their pupils remembers a series of templates that he/she can then adapt by using bullshit expressions such as "as cold as ice", "as fast as the wind" etc etc.
Zero creativity. Pathetic. I could've made a program to generate such essays.
Kids, here's a great essay you can learn from:
It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and I was outside, going nowhere in particular. After getting high on various inexpensive drugs, I decided to grab a bottle of whisky at the supermarket. Of course being an underage 11 year old living in a society where moral values pale in front of profit, getting a bottle of whisky was an easy task.
I was then headed towards some strange destination, my bottle of sky tucked under my arm. My legs were carrying me, and the mixture of foreign chemicals and alcohol in my bloodstream were taking decisions for me.
-"I don't give a fuck," I said aloud, thinking that it would be a neat thing to say, and adding a hint of conversation to this story.
The weather was simply delicious. I don't know why it was delicious, nor do I understand why I thought that it was, but the amazing scene around me was delicious. I could see several people gathered a hundred metres away. Due to the fact that I have to make something happen in this essay, I ran towards them and discovered a car which had obviously had an accident. Some people were trying to open the front driver door.
A few minutes later, the door swung open, and the driver happily walked out of the car. He was safe and sound, until a huge bus came from nowhere and crushed him to death. Realising that this could be a traumatising experience for me, I only gathered the beautiful ruby-red drops of blood that were flying about, splattering on people's clothes and on the car. Oh, there was also a yellow butterfly and it was very beautiful.
My story ends with this very colourful and beautiful scene. Even if there is no particular lesson to be learnt, I'll have to say something to appear wise - "People should be more careful."
An essay from a typical primary school student isn't exactly something original though: teachers make sure that each one of their pupils remembers a series of templates that he/she can then adapt by using bullshit expressions such as "as cold as ice", "as fast as the wind" etc etc.
Zero creativity. Pathetic. I could've made a program to generate such essays.
Kids, here's a great essay you can learn from:
It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and I was outside, going nowhere in particular. After getting high on various inexpensive drugs, I decided to grab a bottle of whisky at the supermarket. Of course being an underage 11 year old living in a society where moral values pale in front of profit, getting a bottle of whisky was an easy task.
I was then headed towards some strange destination, my bottle of sky tucked under my arm. My legs were carrying me, and the mixture of foreign chemicals and alcohol in my bloodstream were taking decisions for me.
-"I don't give a fuck," I said aloud, thinking that it would be a neat thing to say, and adding a hint of conversation to this story.
The weather was simply delicious. I don't know why it was delicious, nor do I understand why I thought that it was, but the amazing scene around me was delicious. I could see several people gathered a hundred metres away. Due to the fact that I have to make something happen in this essay, I ran towards them and discovered a car which had obviously had an accident. Some people were trying to open the front driver door.
A few minutes later, the door swung open, and the driver happily walked out of the car. He was safe and sound, until a huge bus came from nowhere and crushed him to death. Realising that this could be a traumatising experience for me, I only gathered the beautiful ruby-red drops of blood that were flying about, splattering on people's clothes and on the car. Oh, there was also a yellow butterfly and it was very beautiful.
My story ends with this very colourful and beautiful scene. Even if there is no particular lesson to be learnt, I'll have to say something to appear wise - "People should be more careful."
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Flic-En-Flac Useful Information
The Flic-En-Flac local supermarket - Pasadena Spar now closes at 17:00 on Sundays
Krish's Delights closes at 21:30 on weekdays, and 22:00 on Saturdays and Sundays
Shoppie closes at 19:00 on weekdays
You can get Emtel Phonecards at the Wolmar Store, Shoppie and Ah-Youn.
You can get cigarettes late at night at the casino (next to spar). The casino closes at around 03:00 am, but you might have to pay Rs 135-Rs 150 for a pack of 20.
The two places you can get internet in here is - [free] the Post Office (behind the police station) and at [paying] Spar.
And of course, if you need a place to stay, the police station's open 24/24.
Krish's Delights closes at 21:30 on weekdays, and 22:00 on Saturdays and Sundays
Shoppie closes at 19:00 on weekdays
You can get Emtel Phonecards at the Wolmar Store, Shoppie and Ah-Youn.
You can get cigarettes late at night at the casino (next to spar). The casino closes at around 03:00 am, but you might have to pay Rs 135-Rs 150 for a pack of 20.
The two places you can get internet in here is - [free] the Post Office (behind the police station) and at [paying] Spar.
And of course, if you need a place to stay, the police station's open 24/24.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
My buddy, Arsha
 Arsha (in white) and Aveisha (in red)I can't remember exactly how and when I got to meet Arsha. She's Vidisha's cousin, and also happens to be Ritesh's niece. She's Aveisha's sister, and also knows Arvind. I guess all the roads really were leading to Rome. I think Arsha is one of the few people who's pretty lonely, but doesn't keep complaining about it. Yes, well, she's going out with a cute guy now (too bad, boys, she's already taken, and it looks serious) but I still think most people fail to realise who she really is on the inside. |
 All of that to say she deserved an important place on my blog. |
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Original Love
I am young, yet I write with the dry passion of an old man with a wounded heart and a bruised soul. I have rarely seen things from the world, but I have never taken anything for granted - instead, I spent my time analyzing and figuring out the patterns of life.
Life is nothing but an equation of disasters and atrocities.
I remember when I was younger and naive: I seemed to have a never-ending supply of energy that I kept spending to correct what I saw as disturbances in the patterns of this world. During this time, I was also a true romantic. I could love with all my heart and soul, without any fears, without any doubt. But times change, and people change. I gradually stepped backwards into the shadows, with countless knives and daggers piercing my heart.
I do not claim to be wise. I do not claim to be right. However, at times, I wish I could get back my strength to defeat the present and conquer the future.
Life is nothing but an equation of disasters and atrocities.
I remember when I was younger and naive: I seemed to have a never-ending supply of energy that I kept spending to correct what I saw as disturbances in the patterns of this world. During this time, I was also a true romantic. I could love with all my heart and soul, without any fears, without any doubt. But times change, and people change. I gradually stepped backwards into the shadows, with countless knives and daggers piercing my heart.
I do not claim to be wise. I do not claim to be right. However, at times, I wish I could get back my strength to defeat the present and conquer the future.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Almost Racist
Do you know how it feels like to be treated differently from everybody else?
I've been thinking about that lately. I've always been going out with women who never treated me like they used to treat their boyfriends. I know I've always been the sub-standard boyfriend, the backup-plan, the guy you can actually impose any kind of condition upon.
It got real bad today. I was drunk - really drunk - and I said something truly horrible to one of my ex girlfriends, because I had been thinking about what she did to me. The bad thing is that I know exactly - at a millionth of cm square precision - where and when to place that comment that really hurts.
However, I regret now. Why am I so weak?
I wonder.
I've been thinking about that lately. I've always been going out with women who never treated me like they used to treat their boyfriends. I know I've always been the sub-standard boyfriend, the backup-plan, the guy you can actually impose any kind of condition upon.
It got real bad today. I was drunk - really drunk - and I said something truly horrible to one of my ex girlfriends, because I had been thinking about what she did to me. The bad thing is that I know exactly - at a millionth of cm square precision - where and when to place that comment that really hurts.
However, I regret now. Why am I so weak?
I wonder.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
I'm Back... And Working!
Okay boys and girls, it's been a while since I last posted anything in here.
I'm back! YES! And I found a job too!
I'm currently working as Expert and Technical Assistant at Eucis Global Services. The job appelation sounds mighty, but it's nothing much, really. I'm just interfacing stuff with other stuff (heh). This is a temporary job though - I don't know if I'm going to stay there, move over to another company or work in association with the company.
I'm supposed to be working right now, but I thought I should post this :)
Rowy
I'm back! YES! And I found a job too!
I'm currently working as Expert and Technical Assistant at Eucis Global Services. The job appelation sounds mighty, but it's nothing much, really. I'm just interfacing stuff with other stuff (heh). This is a temporary job though - I don't know if I'm going to stay there, move over to another company or work in association with the company.
I'm supposed to be working right now, but I thought I should post this :)
Rowy
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Monday, May 15, 2006
Shanon
I've been debating about whether I should publish this on my music website or on my blog. I decided to do it on the latter, for reasons that now appear obvious to me.
I can't remember much of the night, except for Kaleal's sarcastic remarks and Shanon's smiling face. I couldn't believe that it was Shanon - the girl I knew from Kaleal's yoga course. Well, I didn't exactly know her, it was just that she had then been quiet - very quiet. Like night and day. And funnily, I had known her only during the day.
Shanon Beaugendre, from a family of music artists, doesn't want any of the bullshit associated with celebrity. She's only interested to live her art, and be happy with it. Under the starlit sky, she successfully convinced me to listen to Eric Triton's fabulous music punctuated by a superhuman guitar scratching ability and funny lyrics.
If the future of the local music industry is relying on the shoulders of young people like her, I guess that we'll be pretty safe for the next 40-50 years to come.
I can't remember much of the night, except for Kaleal's sarcastic remarks and Shanon's smiling face. I couldn't believe that it was Shanon - the girl I knew from Kaleal's yoga course. Well, I didn't exactly know her, it was just that she had then been quiet - very quiet. Like night and day. And funnily, I had known her only during the day.
Shanon Beaugendre, from a family of music artists, doesn't want any of the bullshit associated with celebrity. She's only interested to live her art, and be happy with it. Under the starlit sky, she successfully convinced me to listen to Eric Triton's fabulous music punctuated by a superhuman guitar scratching ability and funny lyrics.
If the future of the local music industry is relying on the shoulders of young people like her, I guess that we'll be pretty safe for the next 40-50 years to come.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Au fil de toutes ces années
Au fil de toutes ces années,
J'ai passé mes journées,
A désespérément te chercher.
De toi, je n'ai fait que rêver,
De toi, je n'ai fait que penser.
Ensemble, l'amour parfait.
Au fil de toutes ces années,
Je n'ai pu te trouver.
Au fil de toutes ces années,
Je me dis que je dois renoncer.
Je pleure, je ne sais pourquoi.
Peut-être que tu n'existes pas?
Peu-être qu'un autre t'a pris dans ses bras.
Je suis désolé de n'avoir pu être là.
J'ai passé mes journées,
A désespérément te chercher.
De toi, je n'ai fait que rêver,
De toi, je n'ai fait que penser.
Ensemble, l'amour parfait.
Au fil de toutes ces années,
Je n'ai pu te trouver.
Au fil de toutes ces années,
Je me dis que je dois renoncer.
Je pleure, je ne sais pourquoi.
Peut-être que tu n'existes pas?
Peu-être qu'un autre t'a pris dans ses bras.
Je suis désolé de n'avoir pu être là.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Vertigo
I stared at the ground, and then at the man, and back at the ground again.
- "Whoa! You're really going to jump?"
- "Yes!" he replied, with a wide smile.
- "Money problems?" I inquired.
- "No"
- "Wife? Children? Work?"
- "No, No, No!"
I paused for a moment and started to think about the various reasons why somebody would ever decide to terminate his life. I was half-scared he would jump before admitting the reason - leaving me with an unsolved mystery.
- "I know. You've got a fatal disease, and you're planning to kill yourself before the disease takes you!" I said triumphantly.
- "No, I'm in excellent health."
It was weird. The man looked happy. Maybe he was on drugs.
- "You're not on ecstasy, are you?"
- "Nope."
- "Then why do you want to kill yourself?"
- "Because I'm at the peak of happiness!"
- "What?"
- "Because I am so happy that I don't want to go back and face sadness ever again."
It was not so stupid after all. I bid him a very merry goodbye, and took the road opposite to where he should have fallen. Somehow, a happy corpse sounded creepy to me.
- "Whoa! You're really going to jump?"
- "Yes!" he replied, with a wide smile.
- "Money problems?" I inquired.
- "No"
- "Wife? Children? Work?"
- "No, No, No!"
I paused for a moment and started to think about the various reasons why somebody would ever decide to terminate his life. I was half-scared he would jump before admitting the reason - leaving me with an unsolved mystery.
- "I know. You've got a fatal disease, and you're planning to kill yourself before the disease takes you!" I said triumphantly.
- "No, I'm in excellent health."
It was weird. The man looked happy. Maybe he was on drugs.
- "You're not on ecstasy, are you?"
- "Nope."
- "Then why do you want to kill yourself?"
- "Because I'm at the peak of happiness!"
- "What?"
- "Because I am so happy that I don't want to go back and face sadness ever again."
It was not so stupid after all. I bid him a very merry goodbye, and took the road opposite to where he should have fallen. Somehow, a happy corpse sounded creepy to me.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Where's My Future?
Iraq is being rocked by the sound of devastating bombs. Iranians are fighting for their right for nuclear power. North Koreans are starving to death while fake US$100 bills are being manufactured there. And I'm doing just fine.
The beach has never been so inviting. It has witnessed the last three years of my life, and it has accepted all my bitter tears and happy moments without ever complaining. You might not believe me, but I have befriended fabulous people from a wide spectrum of social backgrounds and ethnic cultures. And I don't regret a thing.
I also changed. I know that I have useful talents to offer this world. I know that I can produce good, professional code. I do understand technology (not as much as some people do though) pretty well, and I can get my way around most problems related to the virtual world. However, is that what I really want to do in life? That's what I really like, and not what I really want.
I want to earn enough money to buy myself a huge house someday. I want to be financially independent - and I will do it. One day, I'll be rich. I know it.
For the moment, I'll light a cheap cigarette before posting this.
The beach has never been so inviting. It has witnessed the last three years of my life, and it has accepted all my bitter tears and happy moments without ever complaining. You might not believe me, but I have befriended fabulous people from a wide spectrum of social backgrounds and ethnic cultures. And I don't regret a thing.
I also changed. I know that I have useful talents to offer this world. I know that I can produce good, professional code. I do understand technology (not as much as some people do though) pretty well, and I can get my way around most problems related to the virtual world. However, is that what I really want to do in life? That's what I really like, and not what I really want.
I want to earn enough money to buy myself a huge house someday. I want to be financially independent - and I will do it. One day, I'll be rich. I know it.
For the moment, I'll light a cheap cigarette before posting this.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Aveisha
And the award for the most fucked up writing style goes to... *drum rolls* SUNFLOWER AVEISH! Yeah, that's my friend Aveisha. She's far from the cute innocent little girl you might imagine she is. Read her blog.
Also, don't forget to check out what she wrote about me
The One And Only Kaleal
Meet Kaleal - one of my buddies living in Flic-En-Flac. I think I've written enough about her lately, so well, now you know who it is :) I probably should upload a pic of myself sometime soon though. Hmmm... Maybe after my hair grows back.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Titi (L'ancien)
Meet Titi, aka, L'ancien. He's another one of my buddies living in Flic-En-Flac. I met him via Tony.People keep thinking that Titi's Antony's brother - which isn't very far from the truth. One of those days, I'll upload one of his improvised rap songs on my blog :)
Sunday, March 26, 2006
A Devil's Blessing
"O Satan, my soul is broken and my heart is now of stone. I have nothing but the remaining tears of my heart to trade."
Hell was now full, and the dead started to walk the Earth. A drop of blood appeared near my eye, and the divine light withing me forever disappeared. The world became obscure, but beyond the darkness, I could see through the hearts of people. I envied their lustful heartbeat - I desired their passionate desire to live.
I had been chosen to explore the darkest path of misery, and I thanked the Dark Lord for his blessing: the ability to understand my feelings without being affected by them. Through the wall next to my bed, I could feel their presence: the woman I loved, with another man on the same bed.
We suffer because we choose to.
Hell was now full, and the dead started to walk the Earth. A drop of blood appeared near my eye, and the divine light withing me forever disappeared. The world became obscure, but beyond the darkness, I could see through the hearts of people. I envied their lustful heartbeat - I desired their passionate desire to live.
I had been chosen to explore the darkest path of misery, and I thanked the Dark Lord for his blessing: the ability to understand my feelings without being affected by them. Through the wall next to my bed, I could feel their presence: the woman I loved, with another man on the same bed.
We suffer because we choose to.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
One more time...
Beyond the rivers of desire, lust and love lies an immense ocean of beautiful feelings for you. You forbade me to ever come near those waters again, and I cannot but contemplate you, while remembering those days where I could freely bathe in them, and kiss the stars.
Those words, I write to no-one. I only wish that they could be engraved on my skin and flesh; my way of remembering those moments and thanking the world for the chance of living those few days of happiness with you. I will never speak those words to you again - for fear of forever losing you. However, I know that you will never read this and I will once again allow my pen to gently scratch the surface of this piece of paper, and whisper those words: I love you Kaleal.
Those words, I write to no-one. I only wish that they could be engraved on my skin and flesh; my way of remembering those moments and thanking the world for the chance of living those few days of happiness with you. I will never speak those words to you again - for fear of forever losing you. However, I know that you will never read this and I will once again allow my pen to gently scratch the surface of this piece of paper, and whisper those words: I love you Kaleal.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Ai
It was bizzare - almost grotesque: the younger, inexperienced guy sitting on the beach with the calm and mature lady. His eyes wouldn't leave her, and his heart was pounding so hard that he was growing hotter and hotter. On the other side, the beautiful lady was slowly puffing on her cigarette, her 29 years of experience barely showing up on her glowing skin. The sun was about to set, and the silence between them was getting too loud.
- "Why is it that your hair's so beautiful?"
There was no doubt about it - it was something pretty lame to say. Not that he didn't know that it was lame, but he felt that the "timid guy" label that had been stuck on him was the reason for the silence. He loved the silence - he loved sitting there quietly with her - but somehow, he felt that if he didn't say anything, it would mean that there was something wrong with him.
- "You ask stupid questions sometimes."
- "Well, you know, I was just wondering why. If we could find out why it's like that, maybe..."
- "Rowan, I'll understand if you're asking what shampoo I use, or where I got my haircut, but that's something plainly stupid for me."
There was no doubt about it - he should have stayed quiet. The sun was finally going down, bleeding clouds of red and yellow. His eyes were fixed on the sea - he was pretending to be interested in the small waves rising and falling too quickly. He was acting as if what had just happened didn't affect him.
- "Why is it that your hair's so beautiful?"
There was no doubt about it - it was something pretty lame to say. Not that he didn't know that it was lame, but he felt that the "timid guy" label that had been stuck on him was the reason for the silence. He loved the silence - he loved sitting there quietly with her - but somehow, he felt that if he didn't say anything, it would mean that there was something wrong with him.
- "You ask stupid questions sometimes."
- "Well, you know, I was just wondering why. If we could find out why it's like that, maybe..."
- "Rowan, I'll understand if you're asking what shampoo I use, or where I got my haircut, but that's something plainly stupid for me."
There was no doubt about it - he should have stayed quiet. The sun was finally going down, bleeding clouds of red and yellow. His eyes were fixed on the sea - he was pretending to be interested in the small waves rising and falling too quickly. He was acting as if what had just happened didn't affect him.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
I'm Back
After a wonderful three days of kissing and hugging, Kaleal broke up with me. Yes, three days.
I felt bad. Real bad. Mostly because I loved her... I adored her... and it just ended, so abruptly. I hate this. I wish I could go back in time, and live those three days over and over again, forever...
I felt bad. Real bad. Mostly because I loved her... I adored her... and it just ended, so abruptly. I hate this. I wish I could go back in time, and live those three days over and over again, forever...
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Awwwwwww!
How do you call the temporary state where you're unable to write anything at all? Writeless? Well, if there were such a word, then I guess it would be correct to use it to describe my current state of being.
I feel like I'm on the top of the world; somehow, I jumped and reached the stars. What's an acheivement here is that I didn't fall back to earth. Newton must've been wrong somewhere I guess. Yes, boys and girls! I'm with Kaleal, and our relationship is moving towards a trend of stability and security. I was trying to count the number of times we kissed, but I think I got an overflow somewhere. Anyway, who cares?
For the first time in my existence, I'm running my life outside of a try-catch block. I feel we're going to be safe together, and I'll do everything for her to be safe with me. That's all I have to write - the rest - I'll live it.
I feel like I'm on the top of the world; somehow, I jumped and reached the stars. What's an acheivement here is that I didn't fall back to earth. Newton must've been wrong somewhere I guess. Yes, boys and girls! I'm with Kaleal, and our relationship is moving towards a trend of stability and security. I was trying to count the number of times we kissed, but I think I got an overflow somewhere. Anyway, who cares?
For the first time in my existence, I'm running my life outside of a try-catch block. I feel we're going to be safe together, and I'll do everything for her to be safe with me. That's all I have to write - the rest - I'll live it.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Life Goes On
There are some things that are currently impossible for me to write about. The pain is still fresh - I can feel it, right now, at this very moment. I don't know if I'm ever going to write about it. However, it's still good to feel pain - it reminds you that you're alive, and that you have a heart.
I guess... that life goes on.
I guess... that life goes on.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Second Chapter
Here ends the first chapter of my life. A love letter, accompanied by a hug ended it all. I just can't wait to discover what comes up next. I wonder who are the new characters in the second chapter, and I wonder with whom I'll finally end up with.
I could really feel it yesterday. Something in me was telling me that everything had suddenly changed. I went to sleep with something inside of me - something I didn't have when I woke up. She read my letter, but had absolutely no reaction. Maybe it's better this way...
I could really feel it yesterday. Something in me was telling me that everything had suddenly changed. I went to sleep with something inside of me - something I didn't have when I woke up. She read my letter, but had absolutely no reaction. Maybe it's better this way...
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Aishteru
Hell, I should've acted faster. It had started to rain heavily, and I was kinda regretting being dressed up so elaboratedly. Even if the both of them were totally soaked, she was absolutely gorgeous. Yes, it was the day I was going to ask her out. I could feel my heart beating faster than normal, and on that cloudy day, everything seemed brighter than normal.
She was so beautiful. I just couldnt' get my eyes off from her. I just can't stop staring at her, and each and every one of her words sounds like the sweetest melody to me. She often scolds me, and tells me that I'm not paying attention. Well, that's because I just can't keep my mind off from her...
On that particular rainy day, I could literally feel my heart break into millions of little pieces. Her sister had just informed me that she was going out with someone, and part of my world suddenly crumbled. It was awful. I felt so bad. So bad. The rain suddenly had a meaning, and the reality of this sad little world started to transpire into my soul.
I should've done it a week earlier. Dammit.
She was so beautiful. I just couldnt' get my eyes off from her. I just can't stop staring at her, and each and every one of her words sounds like the sweetest melody to me. She often scolds me, and tells me that I'm not paying attention. Well, that's because I just can't keep my mind off from her...
On that particular rainy day, I could literally feel my heart break into millions of little pieces. Her sister had just informed me that she was going out with someone, and part of my world suddenly crumbled. It was awful. I felt so bad. So bad. The rain suddenly had a meaning, and the reality of this sad little world started to transpire into my soul.
I should've done it a week earlier. Dammit.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
I wish...
I am finally shedding the last bits and pieces of the artificial me. Like a plastic skin which cracked and has suffered weakened bonds with its neighbouring friends, the layers of hate, envy and prejudice are disappearing, one after the other.
I'm no more the old me. I'm the one I was supposed to be, years and years ago. The undissolveable patterns of misery have had their toll: my own character. I want to change, because I have seen the outer layers of me. I want to forget absolutely everything, and re-learn the world from a new and unbiased point of view.
A few days ago, I started regretting being who I was. The regrets came with a lot of bitter tears and half-swallowed outbursts of sadness. I wished I had never met Natasha, I wished I looked different, I wished I wasn't me - I just wanted to be somebody else, at some other place, living another life.
The girl I like is going out with somebody else. There ain't a thing I can do, and for this once, I will accept my usual fate and keep on surviving.
I'm no more the old me. I'm the one I was supposed to be, years and years ago. The undissolveable patterns of misery have had their toll: my own character. I want to change, because I have seen the outer layers of me. I want to forget absolutely everything, and re-learn the world from a new and unbiased point of view.
A few days ago, I started regretting being who I was. The regrets came with a lot of bitter tears and half-swallowed outbursts of sadness. I wished I had never met Natasha, I wished I looked different, I wished I wasn't me - I just wanted to be somebody else, at some other place, living another life.
The girl I like is going out with somebody else. There ain't a thing I can do, and for this once, I will accept my usual fate and keep on surviving.
Monday, January 30, 2006
What's happening in Flic-En-Flac?
What's happening in Flic-En-Flac? Well, everybody seems busy with their lives - the new year came and went away, and all of us seem to have resumed our everyday routine.
The elite of the rhum-gulping club all seem to be alive and drinking. However, they are frowning upon the newcomers who came to make a few bucks with the forgotten trolleys (each one's worth 10 bucks) - the proof, Roy, the homeless wine/rhum veteran is currently walking around with a few injuries on his face.
Nothing's new with me - I'm still living in an impossible desert while crawling towards what looks like a mirage. My good mate, however, seems to be swimming in the lake of happiness. Makes me wonder...
The elite of the rhum-gulping club all seem to be alive and drinking. However, they are frowning upon the newcomers who came to make a few bucks with the forgotten trolleys (each one's worth 10 bucks) - the proof, Roy, the homeless wine/rhum veteran is currently walking around with a few injuries on his face.
Nothing's new with me - I'm still living in an impossible desert while crawling towards what looks like a mirage. My good mate, however, seems to be swimming in the lake of happiness. Makes me wonder...
Friday, January 27, 2006
My Confession
I like hugging you. I like being close to you, and watching you. I love everything about you, especially your hair, and how it gets all weird in the morning, when I drop by your house to have tea with you. The best thing that I like is hugging you. You're so smallish, so cute - I wish I could just keep hugging you.
I can't walk by your road without staring at your gate. I can't stop my heart from jumping when I see somebody far away who looks a little bit like you - and I just can't explain what happens when I hear your voice from afar. Everytime I come closer to you, and kiss you on your cheeks, I just can't help wishing I were kissing your lips. I wish I could hold your hand, and go on a walk on the beach with you.
My dear, I wish you were mine. I don't know what's stopping me from telling you how much I care for you, and how much I adore you. Would it be my shaking knees, or my blank mind? I feel something when we're talking on the phone, and keep thinking about our short conversations on the phone. I treasure each and every text message you sent me, and I feel blessed when you call me.
I love it when you yawn, and I adore seeing you dance. Everything about you makes me wonder... and I wish we were together, right now, at this very moment. Even if we die poor, I will still feel that I've been the richest man in the whole world.
There's no doubt about that. I love you.
I can't walk by your road without staring at your gate. I can't stop my heart from jumping when I see somebody far away who looks a little bit like you - and I just can't explain what happens when I hear your voice from afar. Everytime I come closer to you, and kiss you on your cheeks, I just can't help wishing I were kissing your lips. I wish I could hold your hand, and go on a walk on the beach with you.
My dear, I wish you were mine. I don't know what's stopping me from telling you how much I care for you, and how much I adore you. Would it be my shaking knees, or my blank mind? I feel something when we're talking on the phone, and keep thinking about our short conversations on the phone. I treasure each and every text message you sent me, and I feel blessed when you call me.
I love it when you yawn, and I adore seeing you dance. Everything about you makes me wonder... and I wish we were together, right now, at this very moment. Even if we die poor, I will still feel that I've been the richest man in the whole world.
There's no doubt about that. I love you.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Wow
I don't recall how the weather looked like, nor could I detect any delicate smells around me. It was neither hot nor cold, and nothing in this particular moment would've predicted what would happen. It was a normal day, the birds and the people around all looked normal.
Something fell from the sky, and I caught it. I was positively certain that I was still immersed in reality. My eyes, which had been closed halfway in response to the usual boredom of the world, suddenly opened up and sparkled with glee. I looked up at the sky, to confirm that I wasn't dreaming, and checked my outstretched arms. Yes, it was real.
"What's your name?" I asked
She smiled, but didn't reply.
Something fell from the sky, and I caught it. I was positively certain that I was still immersed in reality. My eyes, which had been closed halfway in response to the usual boredom of the world, suddenly opened up and sparkled with glee. I looked up at the sky, to confirm that I wasn't dreaming, and checked my outstretched arms. Yes, it was real.
"What's your name?" I asked
She smiled, but didn't reply.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Writing
When I write, my mind is closed to all inputs from the real world. I write to fill in the void inside of me, to compensate for the loneliness. Those words living here are the bits and pieces of my mind and my sentences mirror my heart.
I write hoping to be read. I know that those fragments of memories made up of words and punctuations might forever live inside of you, and that is why sentences are eternally forming inside of my mind, to finally be born through a melodious drumming of my keyboard. Yes, writing is selfish. The writer is both the father and the mother, who hopes for the world to see his or her children.
I write hoping to be read. I know that those fragments of memories made up of words and punctuations might forever live inside of you, and that is why sentences are eternally forming inside of my mind, to finally be born through a melodious drumming of my keyboard. Yes, writing is selfish. The writer is both the father and the mother, who hopes for the world to see his or her children.
Hope...?
I hate unsolved mysteries. But I'm always delighted when I'm in the process of solving one.
Maybe the mystery of this year would be Hope. Hope is an individual with unknown motives; she visits my blog from time to time and drops me comments. We talked on chat and sent emails to each other, but for a few months now, the communication has been pretty much one way.
During blank moments, I keep thinking of methods I could use to track her down. I know I could compare the time and date of comments left with visiting IP's on my websites - but what can I really do with that? Call the local telecom and ask them for the phone number of that person? I don't even have a valid legal reason to want to track her down anyways.
And then there are the philosophical issues. What good is there to track someone who wants to remain anonymous?
*sigh*
P.S.
Yes... I made the blue sunflower drawing.
Maybe the mystery of this year would be Hope. Hope is an individual with unknown motives; she visits my blog from time to time and drops me comments. We talked on chat and sent emails to each other, but for a few months now, the communication has been pretty much one way.
During blank moments, I keep thinking of methods I could use to track her down. I know I could compare the time and date of comments left with visiting IP's on my websites - but what can I really do with that? Call the local telecom and ask them for the phone number of that person? I don't even have a valid legal reason to want to track her down anyways.
And then there are the philosophical issues. What good is there to track someone who wants to remain anonymous?
*sigh*
P.S.
Yes... I made the blue sunflower drawing.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Blogging Under The Rain
Mysteriously, the sun seemed to have disappeared.
Experts all agree: it's not normal. Space shuttles and telescopes have been cruising the dark skies to find the star of our system. She's nowhere to be found. In those dark moments, the whole world stands united, but still slightly uncertain about its future.
The moon declined to provide a suitable reason for the disappearance of its friend. The main suspect, God, was interrogated this morning. God furiously denied taking the Sun away, and requested to be interrogated only in the presence of his lawyer, the devil.
The devil declined to give away any information regarding the case. The search goes on.
Experts all agree: it's not normal. Space shuttles and telescopes have been cruising the dark skies to find the star of our system. She's nowhere to be found. In those dark moments, the whole world stands united, but still slightly uncertain about its future.
The moon declined to provide a suitable reason for the disappearance of its friend. The main suspect, God, was interrogated this morning. God furiously denied taking the Sun away, and requested to be interrogated only in the presence of his lawyer, the devil.
The devil declined to give away any information regarding the case. The search goes on.
I challenge You.
A few centuries ago, it would've been quite easy to instil divine fear into tribesmen who had not chosen to improve their lifestyle through trade or mechanical and technological means. Fire a gun or explode some fireworks - and *bang* you're already their God. We can understand their reaction. Humans tend to attribute things that they do not understand to higher and therefore incomprehensible powers.
What you have to say:
"But God SAVED ME! I was locked up inside a crashing airplane's toilet and my butt was blowing diarrhoea while everything on the plane was on flames. I still survived! Is that not a miracle?"
"No, shithead. Had you died, you wouldn't be bragging about God picking you out of everybody on the airplane. But you survived, and we have to bear your stupid thoughts."
What you have to say:
"I had prostate cancer, and I had only 1% chances of survival. Even if I'm missing a ball, I'm alive and well! Isn't that a miracle? Didn't God SAVE ME?"
"Out of 100 patients, 99 died, and you survived. Out of the next 100 patients, 99 will die again, and yet another dickhead will survive. You're just statistics. Bitch."
Religions are here to make us forget the fact that after we permanently lose the illusion of consciousness, we return to our most basic form: matter without intelligence. Very few of us are ready to accept this, and it is somewhat comforting for the weaker and dependant minds.
The Quiet Story
This is the story of two young fishermen. Contrarily to the heroes of Ancient Greece, they did not participate in historical wars; unlike Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, they did not find a buried treasure in an abandoned house; nor did they solve dark mysteries like Sherlock Holmes and Watson.
This is the story of two fishermen in the modern world, living lives without earth-shaking adventures, lives without the fear of tomorrow: the lives of two simple persons.
Should I tell you the wonderful story of Joe and Gérald - the two happiest men on this planet? Would you be interested to know that both of them wake up at five to go fishing on their boat, and always come back home to their wives with a smile on their face? Would you like to listen to a story that starts well, is quiet in the middle, and ends beautifully?
I know the story. I can assure you that it's beautiful.
This is the story of two fishermen in the modern world, living lives without earth-shaking adventures, lives without the fear of tomorrow: the lives of two simple persons.
Should I tell you the wonderful story of Joe and Gérald - the two happiest men on this planet? Would you be interested to know that both of them wake up at five to go fishing on their boat, and always come back home to their wives with a smile on their face? Would you like to listen to a story that starts well, is quiet in the middle, and ends beautifully?
I know the story. I can assure you that it's beautiful.
Friday, January 13, 2006
The Mysterious Girl
Who would have guessed that there was such a place inside of Flic-En-Flac? The one last haven where trees freely grow and butterflies flutter, guided by the sweet smell of the wind. I heard that a mysterious girl lived in there all alone, in this house with no television and no telephone.
Was it a dream, or was it for real? I was shocked by the simple design of the house, and the complex artifacts of decorations hung around almost everywhere. I had never seen the girl herself - I had been invited to her house by her cousin. We were there for only a few moments, but the magic of the place had totally entranced me. It all made sense: A fairy lived in that place. It should've been a very beautiful woman, with long hair and kind eyes. A simple and yet cute girl, with a charming smile and a beautiful personality.
I felt like the young innocent lad who had been led to the mysterious forest where the princess lived in disguise.
I could've chosen not to meet the girl who lived in there - after all, I might have been deceived. I however got hold of her phone number (Yes, she had a cellphone. I was surprised.) and sent her a text message. We were on the beach, two days later, talking about our lives, karma, and things I would never have expected to talk about with someone. Even if she wasn't how I imagined her to be, she is still beautiful - very beautiful.
My virtual life all seems like a blur - my email address, my blog, my ongoing projects... yes, it's there: the real world.
Was it a dream, or was it for real? I was shocked by the simple design of the house, and the complex artifacts of decorations hung around almost everywhere. I had never seen the girl herself - I had been invited to her house by her cousin. We were there for only a few moments, but the magic of the place had totally entranced me. It all made sense: A fairy lived in that place. It should've been a very beautiful woman, with long hair and kind eyes. A simple and yet cute girl, with a charming smile and a beautiful personality.
I felt like the young innocent lad who had been led to the mysterious forest where the princess lived in disguise.
I could've chosen not to meet the girl who lived in there - after all, I might have been deceived. I however got hold of her phone number (Yes, she had a cellphone. I was surprised.) and sent her a text message. We were on the beach, two days later, talking about our lives, karma, and things I would never have expected to talk about with someone. Even if she wasn't how I imagined her to be, she is still beautiful - very beautiful.
My virtual life all seems like a blur - my email address, my blog, my ongoing projects... yes, it's there: the real world.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
2006 Starts
I read a strange book by a disturbed spirituality guru. He neatly explained illumination through a fascinating example:
Yes, that would be illumination all right. But before we all return to the universe, or maybe re-incarnate into the neighbour's underwear, I think we should make the best out of life.
We are all drops of water. Illumination would be to return to the ocean; but as we would fall into the ocean, we would all die. However, we would still live on as a part of the ocean.
Yes, that would be illumination all right. But before we all return to the universe, or maybe re-incarnate into the neighbour's underwear, I think we should make the best out of life.
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