Confessions of a Fantastic Nature

2000 hours. Hit. "Paranoia! Fear! It's claustrophobia at its height!" Oval on black. Horizontal axis dividing light and dark. Light at the bottom, dark at the top. The picture keeps refreshing. Seen through an oval computer screen. Each picture comes whooshing towards you. Then its past you. Replaced by the next picture. Headlight throwing cobblestones in stark relief. Cold air killing facial skin to a point of numbness where you no longer concern yourself with it. Around the edges of the oval lurk trees and bushes. Painted murky brown-green in colour. Menacing branches swaying gently in the night breeze. "I have never applied so much brakes in my life!" "Slow down! Slow down some more! We're reaching traffic!" "Shut up!" ******************************************************** Computer screen. Rectangle. Is it a CAD software? Loaded. Perfect geometry. Amazing. Pillar? X, Y & Z axes. Ovals still refuse to go away. Familiar. Comforting. Somewhat. Oval on rectangle screen. Surrounded by blackness. In pixellated form. Each time you turn your head, the old picture changes. Blending into a new one. 3 dimensional geometry. So unappreciated. Nothing remarkable. Everything you see accords equal importance. The universe has no favourites. ******************************************************** Scared. People stare. Traffic moves ever closer. Walking on the streets is dangerous. Are you acting weird? Is he staring? "He's not bothered! He's living his own life!" "You're actually normal!" "Come to the side! Stop walking in the middle!" Hysteria. ********************************************************

The Dangling Conversation

This is, without a doubt, my most favourite bit of poetry.


It's a still life water color,  
Of a now late afternoon,  
As the sun shines through the curtained lace,
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee,  
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore,  
You can hear the ocean roar.
In the dangling conversation,
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives.


And you read your Emily Dickinson,  
And I my Robert Frost,  
And we note our place with book-markers,  
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written,  
We are verses out of rhythm,  
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time.
Lost in the dangling conversation,
And the superficial sighs,  
Are the borders of our lives.  

Yes, we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,  
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"  
"Is the theater really dead?"  
And how the room is softly faded,  
And I only kiss your shadow,  
I cannot feel your hand,  
You're a stranger now unto me.  
Lost in the dangling conversation,  
And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our lives.

--- Paul Simon

Sequel to the Quell

...And I found a way...

Not Again!!

NONONONONO!!!!!

 

The stupid @#%^!!

The bloody hell-bent &*5%@!!!

*^$# @%% it all!!!

 

They've done it again! The useless, interfering dumbasses that run the college internet from the Datacentre have blocked my blog again. This time its not for use of "Banned words", instead its been listed under "Personal websites"! Well, of course, its a personal website! So what?! 

  

I CAN'T ACCESS MY BLOG!!!!!

GAH!!

BAH!!

and BLAH!!

 

I shall find a way...

What's been going on

{This post has been delayed by two days}

 

     At last! At long bloody last! I'm back. From the looks of it, it doesn't seem anyone has missed me at all. I'm willing to give the whole lot of you the benefit of doubt and assume that you were all busy with exams and travel and stuff. Though not all of you fit in that category. Nevermind. I feel benevolent. So get commenting before I feel beneviolent. Comment and then read this post just to be on the safer side.

     Yet again I experience the loneliness of being alone. Stuck in an empty room where nothing moves. Where heavy curtains drawn across the windows filter the sunlight and allow in only pale shadows of the magnificent rays. Where muted silhouettes play with your mind forming intricate patterns to the tune of "Ode to Joy". Where all you have for company are your books and the five thousand-odd mp3 files you have saved on your laptop. Yes, you guessed it. Its holidays. And I'm stuck in the hostel once more.

    Not that I'm all friendless and all. Puppy's been coming to college everyday and has been giving me front row performances of his stand-up comedy. Problem being I know what he's going to say most of the time (Give handle!). Perfect Melange turned up last two days looking extremely Putty-like. Little does she realise what a joy it is to have her around. Beachball finally told me what she was doing with Minimum (Guess who!). Turns out Beachball's all deflated with a cold. Piggy's been coming to college everyday with her Mental Foundation work. Mari's been coming everyday but NOT to see me if you get my drift. <I wiggle my eyebrows up and down a couple of times> Dog-killer'll come and go. 
   

     We had some fun a couple of days ago with Puppy, Dog-killer, Hippo, Shimmery (Guess why!), Defect, Perfect & me deciding to go out for lunch and then wasting the rest of the day in Red Garden. Sparks & Six both had their own set of friends to meet so they didn't join us. Mari went across state just to get a haircut. Figure & Bis had an exam yesterday. So, we were down to seven. Piggy did join us for coffee in the evening. She scared me a bit by sending me a sms that wasn't meant for me. 
  

     I've been downloading movies like crazy. Been watching around 3 movies per day. Guess I'm making up for all the missed movies last month. 
  

    Well, this is what I've been doing since the 4th of this month. Now I've got to go take a bath and then its off to the bank.