Pandemicity

The invisible new is gnawing at the world outside. We sit huddled in square foot fortifications fearing our own hands. Every time I use the soap it feels like nuking the shit out of the spiked cell-fuckers that dared invade my lifeline. 

Then there are the tears unfurling from the curls and the questions about the 'when'. Don't we all like to lay a liberal dose of blame? Every time I foam my mitts - I hurl a silent curse at those holy communists of corona. 

RE-Tarnish-aaa

Just a compact piece of nothingness

Build block by block

Then shatter in glory

There's more design to it

To the crumbling-unravelling-unbecoming

The smile says it all...

A search for synergy within

To live again, to grow again, to feel again

The more they fade in you 

The more they shine out there 

Carried in a flurry of curls

Just out of reach...

Just...

Child traffick'ick'ing

A Potato head cracks up on a couch and the 'peels' of laughter follow on cue.
Winds of change and the wonders come unhinged. The seed is sown and I await with typical paternal ethos. Where to from now? A part of me floating, growing, evolving - tremors on an olive coated mound. I reach out and feel myself kicking back at me from the past and a soon to be future. It all begins again anew as I loose myself in the now.
It will all go round and we will meet again - I of the future and I of the past in the 'I' of the future present - in a (con)fusion of tenses...
Then it starts - again.

Mayan-ease 2013

That day of the year again. The obligatory blog precursor...
What do we have here:
Good kid, m a a d city
Rape 'n its aftermath
Marital bliss!!!
Marital bliss!!!
Marital bliss!!!
Now who would have thought of that a year back. Not me - marital bliss of all things!
A floating piece just tags along on my makeshift shapeshiftin' self and does a tilt - a 360 degree one and things are both exactly the same and as different as different can be. Chalk and Cheese and me wrapped around. 
I'm trying to make sense of all this. Not just catching me off guard - but off the off guard.
Add a generous dash of divinity and I'm the damn cocktail for the eve.
Is this what it feels like before the world ends - the damn Mayans got it wrong though. My calendar has just started where their's end.
If the tides are-a-turning - I'm riding it till the end.

Mayan time ends and Mine starts...


-Exit music-

30 days of Summer

Idyllic...Utopian...a perfect summer...
It feels like all the blogs have conspired to make me stop.
The irony 'n sarcasm 'n the bile sucked out. Can something like this actually happen? The very essence of me purged out...
The void's omnipresence - has been breeding me all these years and then it just ceases to be.
Days of unending bliss 'n I'm not complaining.
Summer,rains,winter - seasoning me.
Ripe before the rot? 

Vice

Vice - of the rabid 'n latent kind.

A warped sense of morality grins at me from a reflection.

How ironic, how absurd, intentions on the right side of a GOD - gettin' the worldly treatment !

Grey's anatomy - a stifling embodiment of a contorted 'n confused conscience.

A walk to disMeMber

Freud and his reaction formation. French loaf and a doppelganger swirl of caffeine.
A familiar feeling and streetlight lit treads in the shadow of paternal attestation. Premarital dissidence and the irony of it all.
The beginning is the end is the beginning n' the smashing pumpkins of life's little pulps of fiction.
Pieces become the whole and the whole - pieces.


Caution: Remember to DisMEMber.  

The 'M' of life

Sittin' here starin' at a blog, waitin' to throw up words at you. A third decade is catchin' up with you and there's a social compulsion to expand and connect with the the animal around. The madness gets to you or you take your madness to it, either ways you just multiply it.

Mmmmmmm

Heat

Can thirty years be called the middle of life? What about mid-life crisis? 
In the "Heat" - unflinching, devouring - it has me reeling.
Hormones on overdrive - raving mad in the summer - diving down murky avenues.
Its become inevitable now - the obligatory musical companion - the "blog"ground score - Goldfrapp(e) served up hot(in the fucking heat) with a "Black Cherry".
Nuptial blues looming large - chasing me in circles - the faster I fucking run the nearer i'm getting - circum(in)ference - catch me 22.
I vaporize in seconds n' minutes n' stagnant hours - to come back down in multitudes of me - sprout again to feed the HeaT.

Happy neverEndings

The unfailing "hand" to the rescue again.

The free-falling in temporary static...

The void's no longer there 'cause its become me - the morphing is complete this time and it tickles a tract.

Its weird how every blog gets tagged to a song and the mood seeps in...

"Someone like you" - but I've got no thoughts heading that way - way too many "someones" & way to many "nones" - lyrical larceny!

A spinal belt - turning tables - a slow rot 'n happy endings

New err...

Its that day of the year again! A whole year of 365 days and deja vu.

The frenzy that's whipped up to leave behind another year's eve, evades me. Feel strangely stoic midst the revelry.

The midnight hour ride with a bay of pigs while the intoxicated humanity reeks into the new year.

Would I be erring on this side of the year as well?

Frankly who gives a fuck!

New err alert...

Cir'Kill'

Full circle again!

The vortex keeps hitting new depths.

A flash of black with a tear drop and a goodbye - that's how much time it takes for end to meet end and lock you up in another neat circle.

Velociraptor croons a Goodbye kiss - a coincidence that settles down in the scene with the finality of an anchor and I grow stagnant in the middle of nowhere again.

Bipolar charges at the edge of me - closing in for the kill...

Countdown to the final CirKill.

? to ?

Another celluloid inspired stain... the word "blog" sounds something like that - a stain. The stains caught in this webbit: strains of life lived in ones and zeroes.

Stains - Strains - bits - the techie in me is now here to stay - its hijacking my blog!

Should we not take a leaf out of the digital world - how its all about just ones and zeroes - the simplistic origin of all the complex gizmo.

Are we not something similar - just cells and cells - come to think of it.

Journeys to the center of the cell that started it all... something is stirring - is this the "TRUTH"??

Burning tubes and philosophy! - wake up and smell the 'cophy'.

Ha..............

Fuck this shit - ahhhh now that feels more like it - corny corny - self denunciation the best form of flattery..................

Punctuation - the dots & dashes - commas & colons - apostrophes & catastrophes - punctuate the years - the need for these innocuous symbols to give meaning ... i'm still trying to line up the ones in my life and make sense to the world.

.

,

;

:

!

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'Dom

Melodrama overdrive! Just the dose to mellow down.

The death of blogs...the silver "linen"ing on walls - post for thoughts.

The Schism has come of age - literally!

Its all come down to this - bargaining - us or 'em - funny being asked these questions when one just can't answer shit 'bout ones own self.

It's me against the Family - the family that never forgets -the marriage mafia!

Just what the hell does one do - thank God for blogs and more so for ones no one gives a damn bout.

How can I be self centered when I don't give a rat's hairy behind about the "self" - crazy fuckin' shit.

Something's gotta give - this just doesn't make any sense - all this just DOES not make any fuckin' sense.

How did I get here? Where to from now?

Nowheredo(o)M!

The blacK Ey(v)es

The year is shuttin' down...a frenzied rush to make the most of the remaining hours...the orgasmic burst into the midnight of a new year womb - some corny shit!
New Year - just another facade we need - to hide all the muck gathered over the years.
Nothin' changes - no new beginnings - just another flashy billboard blinkin' by on this forsaken road to nowhere.
Blues rock from black eyes - a damn ultimatum loomin' large - the new year absolution!
A fukkin' milestone stuck here to age and fade and not to forget: to display the years goooonee by.
"Mashed potatoes in cellophane - I see my life going down the drain" - croons one black eye. I swallow the prophecy and ready the clog.
This vortex to another and another and another and...the avatars of apocalypse and revelations...waiting...waiting...
The Blackness of the ey(v)e...

Dabanggg

The hours - a meagre couple - of unhibited fun !! Salman Khan gleefully spewing profanities to the cheer of the masses - complete with the unaged Chaiyan chaiyan "Malaika Arora" rubbing her ample buttfull of pain BALM!!
I hated gettin' out of the silver darkness...to the world deviod of Dabangg !!

Void-lands

A calamity - void - Movies tricklin' down 'streams' - void - Sandra B'o'llock shreakin' with Pre Menopause syndrome - void - Me in the Mi(u)ddle - void - all goes round 'n round - all that's missing is a pocketful of fukkin' posies.

An ankle's grown a door knob that houses my soul - it opens and it all comes fallin' tumblin' crumblin' down 'n down.

Then there's the damn marriage - how does the most important choice of my life become a collective one?? the scourge of the society !! - Fukkin VOID.

This morphing month that once spelt vacation has now become a monster of 'MAY'hem - my status update in facebook - fukkin' facebook - social networking on the omnipresent web - life in hypertext 'n hyperbole.

The last word ... V - O -I - D

Pulla Reddy goes home to sweets

He had a head like a deformed pygmy pyramid, was heavily set 'n he plunked himself next me.

A yellow plastic packet -"Pulla Reddy" announced itself and dangled from his hand.

I adopted that name for him. "Pulla Reddy" - his namesake turned out to be a sweet shop.

A comical sight, but i felt strangely sad. The man had a stern demeanor to match his form and the sweet packet was in stark contrast to the scheme of things. Mr. Pulla Reddy in all his grimness had remembered to buy that box of sweets to take home - to his kids?...his wife?...his mom?

I couldn't take my eyes of him as he swayed with the inertia, quite content to suspend all efforts of any voluntary movement.

I got off the red hissing cube and ran away into the night and the madness of voices converging over production 'n deadlines, as Pulla Reddy goes home to his sweets...

Twelve year Snitch

The kids are runnin' around naked fukkin' in the bushes...

Standin' on the shoulders of giants 'n pikey shite blowin' up on ur face...

Guy Ritchie...sure was a 2 act wizard before he went head over ass up with 'the' Madonna.

What kind of shit keeps you from puttin lil stains on ur b(l)og.

Atta boy...in the elements are we !!

The job's becomin' u and VICE damn versa...dryin' up the damn words in u...one can't stand a 'wordy' impotence...squirts of laconic deluge.

There ain't no dime to what you say...who the hell cares anyways.

Sights 'n sound

"Up" - Another weekend...another face in a dark room...I guess I've watched more movies all alone than a damn critic. The endless string of frames on canvas and my seconds lost in them.

Nick Cave and the bad seeds with his greasy grind "We call upon the Author to explain".

I need to get the word venom out of me... the toxic purge better keep me goin.

I'm scared shit of the day I loose the sting. What use is a slithering reptile without the bite... they end up hangin' down some bitch's wrist bearing face paint 'n shit. This ain't the misogynist "me", I'm just being polite and bit polarized on a misanthrope pole.

Marriage - wow the fukkin' sound of the word...it's beyond dread... take my mediocre self and multiply it and watch it breed - GOD sure has some shit in store for his creations.

I just strolled into the bookstore and came back haulin' something that feels so priceless but yet it did have its bill digits in place 'n thank GOd for money and all that it can buy - even if its the complete collection of Amar Chitra Katha's Mahabharatha. I always dreamt of havin' it...

Comictose...