Why so random - II

I hate people who try too hard to be random. I know this is the second time I am ranting about it on the blog, but it is just too much to handle. It’s not these acts of randomness but the reason why they do it, that gets on my nerves.



Get attention. Now being random is very post-modern, but trying to get attention is so not! Convince me that you truly believe in all that you say not by overdoing it but by living by it.


So next time you spot someone trying to be all over the place in the name of post modernity, please stop and slap their butts. Do not encourage such people because that is exactly what they are looking for.


Exist because you love to rather than to prove a point. Try to be cool because you are born that way rather than putting an act on. It is so not cool.

Right now

I hate loathe being taken for granted. It is settling in quick and I do not like it one bit. Just because I am not obnoxiously upfront doesn’t mean I do not mind, it just means I am being patient. And one should under no condition test it beyond a point. Do not drive me to do things I don’t want to because if I do, I won’t regret them under this condition. I see no wrong in it right now.



I don’t scream or shout. I am not difficult. All I ask for is a little bit of this and that which comes for no money. All it takes is a red heart. A big one.


I am not threatening or warning. I am simply speaking to my blog.

Its not just a book..

This is one of my most favourite poems.. 

Love for This Book - 
Pablo Neruda
 

In these lonely regions I have been powerful
In the same way as a cheerful tool
Or like untrammeled grass which lets loose its seed
Or like a dog rolling around in the dew.
Matilde, time will pass wearing out and burning
Another skin, other fingernails, other eyes, and then
The algae that lashed our wild rocks,
The waves that unceasingly construct their own whiteness,
All will be firm without us,
All will be ready for the new days,
Which will not know our destiny.
 

What do we leave here but the lost cry
Of the seabird, in the sand of winter, in the gusts of wind
That cut our faces and kept us
erect in the light of purity,
as in the heart of an illustrious star?
What do we leave, living like a nest
of surly birds, alive, among the thickets
or static, perched on the frigid cliffs?
So then, if living was nothing more than anticipating
the earth, this soil and its harshness,
deliver me, my love, from not doing my duty, and help me
return to my place beneath the hungry earth.

We asked the ocean for its rose,
its open star, its bitter contact,
and to the overburdened, to the fellow human being, to the wounded
we gave the freedom gathered in the wind.
It's late now. Perhaps
it was only a long day the color of honey and blue,
perhaps only a night, like the eyelid
of a grave look that encompassed
the measure of the sea that surrounded us,
and in this territory we found only a kiss,
only ungraspable love that will remain h

Right now

It is my right to be mean and bitchy today. Tomorrow we'll see!

Boxed In

Pack.Unpack.Pack.Unpack.Pack.Unpack I am tired of living out of boxes.

Something I did

After a stressful day at work, I come home with doors playing in my ears. I start looking for an old book, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, because it is one of those "feel good" books I keep going back to in times like these. I end up finding not the book but some leftover paint boxes.

I quickly shower and I make this

 
 
 

 

  "I see myself as a huge fiery comet, a shooting star. Everyone stops, points up and gasps "Oh look at that!" Then- whoosh, and I'm gone...and they'll never see anything like it ever again...and they won't be able to forget me- ever." - Jim Morrison

Economics

Travelling in Poona is very  expensive, especially if you do not own one of those bikes. And Dad you tricked me :X . Anyways


Here is how I look at it


Auto fare from home to office and back= 100 X 2 = 200/-  + 20/-  extra charges post 10 pm (yeah 10 is late night here..whatte city)


 220/- = cost of two packs of Benson

The ugly missy

I saw her name in red neon.
The woman who has an ugly green toungue and she speaks all blue.
Her mind is the dark of a dungeon and her heart is a solid grey.
She wears a filthy yellow while she carries a gory expression.

Update

I have started my internship with Indian Express in Poona. Its day four today, so far things have been decent. I am in my third internship and I have no real job yet :(


Jinx Diary:-


Entry # 12,765 :- Toppled down the stairs again. Scratched my very expensive Vogue sunglasses. Sprained my ankle. While getting in the car, I had my hands smeared with grease which left stains on my lovely white shirt. It doesnt stop here by the way. I ride 4 Kilometers with Daddy only to realize I have forgotten my Phone at home. So while I beg him to take me back he gives me a long lecture on how I need to start meditating to improve my concentration power.
I have more than half a day to go and I am sure this doesnt stop here. Bring it on

From my window