Alternative Existence

Its tough to get along with others, when I have a hard time getting along with myself. According to certain stats, when I was born, I was: 4,659,443,959th person alive on Earth & 79,372,007,970th to have lived since history began. Irony is I can’t even say any of these figures in one go, and not that I aint educated; its only that I’m too blahhhhed to even have a go at it. This number is going to hit 9 billion by 2043. Before any of that happens and we run-out of every possible resource on this planet, we need to start living in our own thoughts and reproduce there instead.

So the problem is not with the system but with this self-imposed imperialistic thought processes – the hegemonistic approach to one’s own existence. Life being lived in one’s own legacy of betrayals to one’s own existence – to one’s own soul is a predicament and a threat to others. And when the dynamism to leading someone else’s existence seems more alluring rather than appalling and is considered anything but plain stupidity it is just another of one of those new beginnings for a daft policy in the making. Most countries dubious foreign policies are often perceived as a battle between the power to inflict pain or cause change in a given time and space that advances their national interests and associated personal gains; and then when one wakes up from slumber one begins to think what it could possibly mean to their existence or even mines ten-years downhill.

Many of my friends live in a euphoric-state of endless humour and banter; super heroes and odd-sized women are their way of moving on in life – afar from the winters and the scorching heat and ofcourse with an acutely acknowledged sense of the reality. The Plea-ing and Pleasing and Plowing through their own demented existence goes on non-stop every living daylight. And as I continue with mines changing shoes everyday, living off my thoughts, I also realize that none of this would ever make sense to me tomorrow. The disconnect between their feelings from their tragic realities have them snorting and popping to all sorts. Their alternative existence or even mines has nothing to do with the facebook, twitter, myspace etceteras etceteras - just splintering nostalgic.


PS: if none of this makes any sense to you, it’s not your fault – you were born dumb and ignorant - just like i was born grammatically-challenged.

the bromazepam

“i prefer neurotic people. i like to hear rumblings beneath the surface.” stephen sondheim
(disclaimer: if you're reading this you're my kinda people)

wobbly legs, highly sedated – an afterlife right beneath, i wake up to decide that the day deserves nothing more than some ‘good’ music, chips and coke. and the ‘tube’, ofcourse. this is the good life. shunning the complexities of my mind i breathe to looking up for the most weirdest tunes. i am happy with it being this simple ‘everyfuckingday’. and its not the bromazepam talking, every now and then i sit back and reflect on the missing pieces. i want random people trick me into believing that this canvas is worth a million smiles. i am not compassionate, yet just as plain and just as bland as ‘something or someone’ i cant remember. “puruesh”. my name, my blog-i’ll use it as and when i please-shock of neurosis. people with absolute sensibility of self-assurance have the ability to think change and acquire the art of manipulation. they connect. many like myself connect with them. its an art. to co-exist in a contained and self contaminated environment. be indifferent and riddled.

trippy music. different beats. and life makes sense. when we believe. we preach. when we preach. we praise. when we praise. we lose. when we lose. we start looking for the missing pieces. and then we reconnect.

we should have short conversations. simple conversations. which finishes exactly the same moment they begin. highly unlikely. but we could definitely manage short sentences. fewer words, lesser jargons. clarity. living in this heat – one could easily get delusional and impulsive. irrationality becomes thy most favourite sport. imagine not being able to justify the wrong. infact imagine not knowing the wrong. reminds me of president bush. youtube it. the iraq war. his bloopers could win him an emmy. it still aint the bromazepam.

i am forgetting the caps. on purpose. i loathe people pleasers. and i happen to be in communications. ironic. the story of my life revolves around sets of obsessions. each set has a consequence. a consequence worth living only once. twice would be a mistake, pure stupidity. life in chapters is definitely not worth a read. life at random is definitely amiss ;). i prefer the latter. nauseatingly-exciting. if i were a librarian, would i be reading them books or stacking them alphabetically? neither.

.dne eht

"Mr. & Mullah"

Earth Hour 2011