On failed relationships.

So the next time you decide to take a break from your social responsibilities, look at it from a different perspective. Every other time a moron finds it intolerable to go through the phases of a relationship, an innocent bystander has to suffer the consequences. I have been a part of it millions of times and I am not exaggerating, merely not in the right state of my mind.

It's like being miserable to make others feel awkward. You suddenly find yourself in the middle of a totally unreasonable situation where two people are adamant on not looking at each other. So you try to be polite, try to engage in two different conversations because apparently the other two guys suddenly stopped having any mutual interests.

You try to reason with them, maybe they are just immature. But that doesn't seem to work and you are stuck with minding their business. Whatever happened to minding my own business? Probably just a phase. Life starts getting even more frustrating than it actually is since your own problems are number 7 on the priority list. The other 6 are constantly fighting to be the ones on the top.

Things have gotten worse over the days, you feel like not giving a crap. And finally, you decide to take a break.

But every-time a moron finds it intolerable to go through the phases of a relationship, an innocent bystander has to suffer the consequences. Ironical.

On Relationships.

So here I was thinking what was all the hype about everybody getting into a relationship. Through the years I have been somehow led to believe that the only factors present in a true relationship are pretty fucked up looks and an extremely dedicated male. Before drawing any conclusions on what I am trying to say here, I ask you to do just one thing.

If you are a male and in a relationship, try to realize the fact that you do look ugly no matter what anyone says to you. Admit it. After reading this you are either going to mentally assassinate me or you will finally agree to the fact that God hasn't given you a good face.


If you are a female and you aren't single, there are three possibilities.

1. You are a slut. Any guy who hits on you is immediately given the satisfaction of getting into your pants (As if you are wearing any).

2. You are a bitch. Any guy (possibly one of the bad looking guys I just described) who is willing to gratify the relationship with these three factors gets to have you -

a).One sided love,.
b)The hard work needed to keep you happy.
c)All the miserable tears when you tell them you are breaking up.

3.You are plain stupid and you have no idea what goes where when you are lying naked. On the bed. With a guy. Also naked. Possibly Snoring. Of course he's sleeping.

And yes, there are some truly honest relationships where the guy tells the girl he loves her. The girl tells the guy she loves him. Everybody is happy. Only they end up marrying each other and what happens next is only documented in the most gruesome of literatures.

Insects! Attention!

I hate people. Not all of them obviously. I realized most of the people are like insects, they infect this planet with their existence and the only reason they are living at all is because of the need to reproduce more of their kind. The fact that insects are one of the creatures which haven't been tamed by men is ironic, if man can't tame himself it is kind of a moot point being pompous about everything else man has achieved. Coming back to bugs, if you are reading this you are probably a bug too unless of course you are capable enough of proving the contradiction.

What is unsettling is the fact that even though we hate bugs, we need them for a lot of reasons. The food chain has to be maintained to keep it a win-win situation. The insects are happy they get to have sex and we are happy we get to eat them and no one is the wiser. It would be a pity if everyone became intelligent enough to comprehend what is going on. Gods after all don't want us to realize where the strings are and most of us don't realize there aren't any strings, just the one they call God.

Some meaningless words.

A trickle of words leaves the lips,
All sense and purpose slips,
And those who wish to find,
Find what they wish,

A wish to tell, a desire felt,
A feeling which, in the mind dwelt,
And those who speak in words,
Words to them speak back

In silence, everything dealt,
Yet meaning has still meant,
And those who mean what they say,
Say what means to be said

And still comprehension is flawed,
Words stripped through and clawed,
And those who find peace in it,
Peace they find sooner than all

Of them who prefer closed lips more,
And still hope for a loud mute roar,
And those who take pride in that,
That pride is all they have left.

If sense still makes sense anymore,
And drowned corpses still reach the shore,
Then for those waiting for the end,
End will have to wait some more.

Random random.

Wondering about how death would feel is like insulting your intelligence, no one is capable of feeling after death. Thinking it that way, a conversation on this topic wouldn't go very far unless you decide to kill someone as an experiment, but then it wouldn't be a conversation anymore. Anyhow since I decided to write something about postmortem feelings, I am assuming that feelings are too abstract to be defined and hence arriving at hasty conclusions about them is not sensible.

We start by forming a vague notion about what feelings really are, and we have roughly two options to choose from. They can be either meta-physical or they can be quantifiable and hence physically measurable. Logically, the first option is what suits our definition since everyone feels differently and yet a logical person would not want to agree to something as vague as meta-physical.

Nearly 25 minutes have passed by since I wrote what you've read up to now and I'm like what the fuck, that shit is boring. Continuing the discussion about feelings is not what I am capable of doing anymore. Who bloody cares if corpses feel or not, you're doing this world a big service if you care about the ones who are still alive.

Are you normal?

I was in one of my philosophical moods today. They occur frequently but the desire to write is more of a rarity. Anyhow, the catalyst was George Carlin, a comedian my friend Ashish took pains to introduce me to- obviously through his stand-up comedy videos, nothing too fancy you know. The poor old fuck as he liked to be called is dead anyhow.

Occasionally I think about how boring it is to be normal. Its only occasional because I have a lot more in my life other than normal people to worry about- like sex before I get twenty. Recently its more like sex before my penis stops recognizing a vagina anymore, but thats a different story. 

So what do normal people have left to live for? The more important question being- Who do we consider normal anyways? Are you normal? If you are normal why the fuck do you think you are special, or do you even think you are special? If you are not special, why would you want to be treated as one and if you somehow think you are special- with all that over-inflated sense of ego you have, wouldn't it be prettier to see you take a step higher to heaven, if you heard- God has started having favorites lately.

Well anyhow, whatever the case might be- special or not special, the fact remains. The fact that normal people have to be boring. The fact that interesting cannot be normal leads us to conclude that normal has to be boring. Normal people depend upon the awesome, the freaks, the crackpots, the weirdos, the adventurous to have something to live for. It is like a food-chain where everyone in the majority is a parasite trying to live off by sucking the left-overs of a first hand experience. It is like watching a movie because you cannot be bothered to read. It is about hiding in your comfort zones because you are too scared to admit that you are normal, and being normal doesn't count, because every other person you meet on the road is like you- but you want to be special.

It is like a repeating broken old tape, everyone has heard what it says but at least its working.

Bored much?

All of you, and you and you,
Come right here, I have something to say,
I didn't have anything better to do,
I hope it can make my day.

I know it is night, but who really cares?
The day can go and crap in hell,
I wish to know how this night fares,
And that is why I have this poem to tell.

I was lonely once, like I am now,
But no one really cared to know,
No one asked why, when and how,
Everyone had something better to do.

Now don't you start misinterpreting my words,
They don't mean that I don't have friends,
They range from cool, to creeps and nerds,
And some words that cannot be penned.

The fact of the matter is that,
Sometimes you just feel blank,
And here I would like to bet,
Life then looks like a skank.

Sometimes it just fucks you over,
In ways you could never imagine,
And sometimes it makes you hover,
In vacant bottomless heavens.

So what do you do, when you are bored shitless?
I write poems, stories, and stuff like that,
Life is still as sour as pickles,
But at least I am fighting back.