A Hung Up Thought Process

I think the reason for the title kind of gives away the fact that this post is coming in way later than it should have. In any case, last night, was a little painful. I switched off everything, and just lay there thinking; and I noticed that everything had stopped moving. Except for the unnatural ticking of the clock, which was also a farce I  believe, nothing was in motion.

I was, I am living in an instant.

And I realized. I realized that it’s the end of a thought process for me. I lay there looking at these photographs on my wall, and the only reason I haven’t taken them down is because I think the color matches my walls, not because I’m still hung up on the people in them. Because there’s only so many chances you can give someone.

I scrolled through my contacts and realized there wasn’t a single person I could call. Well, except for maybe K and B, but I wanted to let them be. The latter was probably snoring through a dark camouflage, and the former, chilling in his own beautiful thought process-mess I realized that I had some forty useless contacts taking up my phone memory which I finally mustered the courage enough to delete from that portion of my existence.

I realized that sometimes it’s important to give yourself some you time, but what if you want to spend that moment with someone else, what do you do then? I realized thus, that it’s become a good habit to speak to imaginary people, and that over the last few months, I’ve made some very good imaginary relationships.

I realized what pain feels like. I paid very close attention to the way my insides were molding into each other, and I paid close attention to that tingling sensation creeping on my skin. I felt sad, but I felt like I’d achieved something because most people can’t even describe emotions. But now, I can describe to you, purely and well, both the extremes.

I realized that in life, there’s nothing worth giving primary importance to because sometimes, you just gotta drive on all the roads at the same time. Some people might say, there’s nothing like that, but I beg to differ. I think that if you have the strength and the will, then you can mesh all the charcoal on all the roads that you want to take and lead them into one destination.

I realized that I’m happy I’ve begun my travels and that they’ve given me ample amount of things to think about. And I realized that sometimes, it’s okay to be immature, but every moment is not always about you. In the last one year, I’ve learnt to be selfless and if you’re just too darn busy to notice it, or have a mindset that includes me being a selfish brat for life, then I have nothing to say to that.

I’ve learnt to appreciate the finer things in life, unlike the very popular cliche that people randomly adopt,  the tinier things in life, the feel of living and loving. And learning more.

In it’s true sense.

x EdgyShark x

 

 

Tonight We Have The Stars

 

Rows of white

Lilies bled in the

Moonlight; Portraying

A beautiful cacophony of

Silence.

In the darkness they dwell,

Uniting hearts and

Stirring the thoughts of those

Who sleep, sound on their

Pristine pillows.

They catch glimpses and

Run amok the pure rows,

Run wild creating

Friction so dynamic that

The universe binds itself into

One and across the realms of

Each others existence.

The numerous spirits

Applaud their courage

As they sweep back into the shadows while

Dawn approaches again.

x EdgyShark x

That Time Of The Month

Really, what are you being able to decipher regarding this post from the title above?

The fact that I’m down with scarlet fever? Haha. There are four times in a year that my fears return. Those are the times when I have to give my Informatics Practices papers. Because I honestly don’t know what to do even though I try and read the chapters. No concepts like I mentioned before, and it’s not getting me anywhere. Everytime I decide to sit down, something else comes up, and since I don’t understand anything anyway, I don’t even pretend to give it a shot.

So long, and so forth.

Like right now, I’d rather write about my misfortune and vent it out here than open that hideous text book and see what’s written there. But this time will be different. It has to be different.

And other than that, since you’ve noticed that there hasn’t been much going on around here, I might as well tell you that my Creative Think Tank has consumed as much thought and reached the level of maximum satisfaction and utility for sometime. But then, the recession-recovery cycle’s going to continue as soon as my Creative Think Tank Speed Racer comes back to life and gives me some of it as well.

Keep it on the edge.

x EdgyShark x

Like Rip Van Winkle

When I was a little baby, my mother accidentally fed me some medicine that was intended for grown-ups, and since that was a sleep inducer, I slept for two days straight, without any interruption by my spirit, while my mother believed I was not alive any more.

Now I’m a grown up, and I’m intended to take the pill adults are supposed to take. But even then, it’s mental. I took it last night in order to stem a whirlwind of allergies, and don’t remember anything since I slept. My dreams, thoughts, nada.

I wasn’t able to wake up in the morning and go about my daily routine, and now I know, it was because of this. Even on the phone yesterday, I have no idea what I said. I’ve slept for some thirteen hours now, and my head still feels like it’s falling off my neck.

You say weed and alcohol are things that would make one pass out? Haha, this is like till where my capacity to endure all this would stretch out to. It’s mental.

x EdgyShark x

P.S. I could have written a lot more, but I just can’t bring my eyes to open properly.

The Fake Hangover

Person reading this please note: A fake hangover is not called so because it is not a serious affair. Au contraire, it is exactly that, probably worse than a real one, but no assumptions to be made without actual experience of the situation.

And I think I’ve come to the conclusion that this was one of the worst hangovers, like in ever. It’s all good when you’re getting the cork to pop out, drinking straight out of the bottle. And even losing your mind before; posing with it pretending to have won a pole position at the Singapore grand prix, and spraying the podium with alcohol.

A hangover takes place when you get drunk and sleep on it. Now getting drunk, is not a mean feat. And no, it doesn’t necessarily include the use of glowy absinthe. Because sometimes, even oxygen can do the trick. (You know, the whole too-much-of-anything-is-not-good argument …)

We laughed. And rolled around. Clicked about a gazillion photographs, and laughed some more.

However, as the wee hours of morning approached, we had to bid adieu, like every other star accepts the shining power of the Sun, without much resistance.

The day began with agitation. Recklessness, and the desire to catch a six minute quick nap for about eight hours. What a distant dream that seemed like.

No caffeine to help me out of the madness that raged within the membranes of my brain. Not even the hints of a sane conversation or left overs of the night that lasted, stuck around to assist the storm that went wild.

My head hurt during class. And my thoughts ran amock. I became what I become at rare times like these: Philosophically outrageous.

And since I don’t talk much when confined within the walls of that campus, I wrote my frustration down on paper. In French that too.

There are very few humans left on Earth. People waste way too much time on materialistic things. I feel like time’s running out.

You know what, you’re going to realise that on your own sometime. Until that epiphany occurs, continue on like you’ve been doing. It’s your life anyway.

x EdgyShark x

6:41 PM, Monday Evening

I was late to French because of Inglorious Basterds. And I’m not one bit sorry. Because Tarantino made me want to jump with joy.

Quentin makes me happy. But this about fourteen minutes where four people wait outside a small desked room. Four. A decent number, especially if the gender ratios are balanced. Four. Waiting for the same thing, a couple patiently, the other two fidgeting with whatever they can.

She reached and saw the silhouette of two guys leaning softly against the teal coloured car in the driveway. She looked through the window, the room was full. Thus, the wait. She nodded an approved greeting to the two, of which one was returned, the other half happy.

The younger one, fair, über cute. The smile on his face glistened with a different kind of joy. A simple happiness reflected on his face as he went through the alternative playlist on his cellphone.

The other, chinky eyed too, didn’t bother as much. He kept flipping his chappals, trying to wait. Finally, he walked inside towards the old marble staircase.

“It’s too hot in there.” The cute one said. “You’re right,” she said. Just then, the other girl walked in through the one car parking lot. She was innocent, that was the one and only expression her countenance gave away.

The four went in, finally. Waiting on the steps. The older chink sitting on the red stairs, with his book in had already.

The other one, fiddling with the switches next to the wrecked post boxes. The girl looking through the contents of her tote for the nth time, and the fair, pink one, staring ahead.

Then, the voice resounded and they stepped inside.

x EdgyShark x

Drunken Blues In The Kindergarten Playpen

The gig was pretty awesome. And exhausting. And that weirdo who just came in and wanted to sing Linkin Park’s In The End with us? Weird.

Already intoxicated by the Davidoff that we’d (band members) put, and having blogged from Azhar’s Macbook Pro, we were a little charged. That’s why there was that wicked lead solo emanating from Azhar’s guitar during In The End, and next to crazy drumming courtesy Amrit.

Jimmy, just because I’ve got to mention him too

The level of my exhaustion was rising slowly and gradually on my way to Sunflower after that heavy metal jam. Because then I just became all drunk.

Where the kiddies spend leisure time.

I was so whacked out, doing triple jumps from the slides and landing thud on my butt (which really, I’m probably going to get screamed at for), that all the kids there probably got a little freaked, and ran away.

My melancholy being seeks shelter in the curve of the slide

I mean, I turned around, and I thought I’d finally gone deaf, but the screeching and whining had truly ended. For the evening, at the very least.

The grass there, was that fake plastic miniature golf area grass, so welcoming to my already lost freak self. I didn’t care anymore.

I’m not going to. I wasn’t even high. Just plain drunk. And toxic.

On air.

I miss people. I miss R not writing anything and giving me that much needed inspiration. I miss Vora(?!) I miss Baskin Robbins. Not Vora, Oodler. I miss Oodler. But why would I miss Oodler right now?

You know what?

I’ll just shut up now.

x EdgyShark x

P.S I need aspirin. Because I’m not getting drunk enough to hit a coma. (SLEEP!)

x EdgyShark x

Where The HELL Is The Loo?!!

And the clock did eventually strike 2:30. And I did run out of school. Although, after that Net-Bean episode things around me perked up a wee bit. Recess was fun, splurging Debby’s moola on iced tea and chocolat. An hour was then spent listening to the Suisse internationalite from Les Roches Universite which really, is a wonderful place to study in. And I’m really thinking now.

French after school, finally! It was fun again, I went through Stallion‘s iPod which proved to be quite a fruitful attempt at whatever the hell the effort was for.

Funny happening of the day # 1:

Picture it: Madame’s writing French verbes on the board. We’re all doodling them into our notebooks. I look up, and there’s this French guy who walks past the classroom into the reception area outside. “Did you see that French dude?” I ask Prithwiraj. “What, where!?” he asks, pretending to be as amused as me. “He just walked in!” I scream as much as my hushed voice allows me to.

“YEah! I did! Except he was dark and Bengali.” he ruins my moment. “Fine, don’t believe me.” and I turn to Rita and Natasha next, but they’re busy doing things to their notes. I keep looking, and the French guy, accompanied by the other dark guy, makes his way around the reception desk to go up the stairs to the theatre room and refreshment area. And my hyperactive self multiplies.

“Madame, madame!!” I shriek. She looks in a flurry. And then, I’m at a loss as to how to describe what I see, in French, before the guy walks away and people think I’m hallucinating again. So I tell her, “Uhh, Française.. Garçon, voilà!” And everyone howls with laughter, alerting the foreigner and making him stop and look. Because that meant, “French boy over there!” (roughly translated.)

Madame, switches to her silly scrunched up grin-ny countenance. “Non, non!” she says, “Garçon?! *laughs.* C’est hector Alexander Martinez! Bonjour, monsieur,” she looks at him with an apologetic smile. And everyone’s still howling with glee at my stupidity. Oh yes, every class, I provide entertainment and information alike.

So anyway, back to back classes: School, French, Accountancy. During the course of the day dear Sharkian, the kidneys resume filtering and osmosing at their own leisurely speed which at times can prove to be a real freakshow incident to my very own self. Because obviously, it’s not a play. No you cannot watch me writher in anguish either.

I’m done with Accounts by about seven. Jinx, there are these three new chink guys who’ve joined. And they’re really cute. Your kind

So I go out, and by that time of the evening, I kinda really had to pee. I hate waiting for Smithers to get the car, and he’s always about three to seven minutes late. Which was a little too annoying today even though I can bear it on other days.

Because today, yeah you guessed right. My tummy was about to throw up.

So I walked. Because I thought if I kept on walking, that would help me to not jiggle. So I walked till the crossing and then came to a halt next to the tree where the car’s usually parked.

I turned around, and there was that decent looking fellow from class behind me. So I was all courteous and did the whole greeting thing, and walked on.

Funny happening of the day # 2:

But after I came to a halt, he stood next to me too. So I thought, maybe he’s here for transport or something. But he didn’t even have class that day! And he looked like he was on an evening stroll or something, with his earphones plugged in.

And then he started off with the polite conversation that leads to that one question that almost every guy wants to ask that girl. And I didn’t want that to happen, because really, as much as you think, I’m still not as attractive when my hair’s all out by the wind, and I had to freakin’ visit the loo and was in NO mood in causing rejection trauma to men at that point of time.

Tired, long, exhausting day, Sharkians.

But he went on and on. And he wasn’t moving. And I kept cursing the tree, Smithers, the car, the traffic, the dog on the other pavement, Monsieur Martinez, under my breath.

And when you have to really pee, you tend to move and get very restless. I wasn’t even asking him anything back, I quit being polite. I wasn’t interested.

*WHERE WAS SMITHERS?!* *Does whatever part of the Mata-Hari jig that’s possible on the street.*

“Why are you tapping your foot?” he asked. “Oh, heh. I’m singing a song to myself, I tend to go crazy.” I said, to jerk him off.

Finally, he swerves the car with a complete graphical ogive-ish curve.

Oh, when you’re in such a bad state of mind and matter, things to comprehend and follow:

• Make sure the car doesn’t go over a bumper. Bumpers cause your tummy to wiggle. Thus, well, you know the rest ..
• Make sure you’re listening to something fast paced in the car.
• Make sure that fast-paced thing equals the Infected Mushrooms’ Becoming Insane.
• Make sure you go completely wild, try air-drumming.
• Just DISTRACT yourself.

And then run like the wind, or faster, when you reach home.

x EdgyShark x

Weirdos Hitchhike The Galaxy

“It’s a tough galaxy here. If you wanna survive, you gotta know where your towel is.”

The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy is one classy movie. Since I already have a soft spot for whale-ish animals, being the EdgyShark, I liked the way the movie began with the dolphins. And ten minutes into it, I realized I didn’t even need junk food.

It was *That* good. Also, it’s the perfect favourite movie for this blogger.

The dialogues were brilliant. Douglas Adams’ really done a good job with the book too. (Well, yeah, that’s where it all began.)

A few years ago, I’d seen the book lying on the top shelf on of my trips to Oxford, however, I just left it there without scrutinizing it because it was too high for me to reach. *Sheesh* However, I’m glad I went through all that must read books before you die list, because they mentioned it, and it at least gave me a pusher of some sort to watch the movie.

Excellent ways to make you laugh, this movie’s truly a one of a kind. “They can’t think, they can’t imagine, some of them can’t even spell. They just run things.” And you’ll be LOL’ing with me if you know what I’m talking about.

“Either die in the vacuum of space or tell me what you thought of my poem.”

How can you say no to things like that?! Sarcasm at it’s best, the characters embark on the galaxy to find out the answer to The Ultimate Question, which turns out be 42. (Don’t ask me, just watch the movie!)

Do check it out before the Earth gets demolished by oddballs like Zaphod in the quest for the “Answer” and ticket to becoming the ruler of the galaxy.

I give it 4 stars at the very least. *grins* I liked it so much, that I watched it twice in a row, starting 2 am. Watch it, or have your brain smashed by a slice of lemon around a large gold brick.

Yeah, I have no idea what they mean either. Go on, leap to hyperspace already !

x EdgyShark x

You’ve Had Too Much Coffee When…

• You sleep with your eyes open.
• You lick your coffeepot clean.
• You watch videos in fast-forward.
• You can type sixty words a minute with your feet.
• You’ve worn out the handle on your favorite coffee mug.
• Instant coffee takes too long.
• You want to be cremated just so you can spend eternity in a coffee can.

x EdgyShark x