Shine On

There's a light in your eyes. I don't know if it's always there, or maybe we never see it, but it's there alright. The light in your eyes, that's everything from a twinkle to a spark, the one that comes dangerously close to being extinguished once you're an adult, and sometimes when you're a child...

Don't forget to keep your eyes full of life, because that's the only measure of your happiness... Shining bright when you were a child, it constantly amazed everyone around you, and anyone holding your gaze for long enough couldn't drop it... The light seemed to educate, enlighten... Maybe it shone so bright because you were an indefatigable optimist, or maybe it was because you just didn't know any better... It's the same thing, for a child, is it not?

But then you grew up, and you learned about life, and you started watching a little less Spongebob and a little more 'media', because suddenly, the media was your viewport to the world... and the Spongebob song was getting irritating anyway... The Age of Innocence came to an end.. and your optimist shrunk as time passed...

Your life became intense, or atleast your head said so. Sex, Drugs and Rock-n-Roll became your staple, except if you were unfortunate, it was Sex, Drugs and Rap Music... You're life started revolving around things that would later seem not quite as important... But the light was still there, sometimes... The people who brought out the light were the people you knew you wanted to have around you for the rest of your life... Surround yourself with plump men like Caesar... But like Caesar, you had the weakness of relating appearances to character... Hey, it was high school!

Then came the real age of the Media.. stepping in after closing off your exits, and drowning you in a constant flood of negativity and call outs about what the hell is wrong with the universe... But it wasn't just the media... It was life... everything in life, from the little things that got you down, to the big things that knocked you off your feet... All you could do was pick up the pieces and hope that the scotch tape would hold... The light started to flicker... But then you found someone... Someone who laid out more kindling and started a fire in your heart... It was pretty obvious this person was important, but this person probably left, and your fire almost dies out... but it survives... and you learn that nothing in life is ever permanent... as much as you want it to be...

But if there's one thing it should have taught you, it was that you can never ever put too much faith in any one person... Because eventually you might be let down, and it might happen even if that person is absolutely angelic... simply because we are human, and the sooner you understand that, the better it is for you (or me)... Stop... step back, take a look at the big picture here to see if you know what I'm really talking about...

If there's one thing it should have taught you, it's that you can never stop moving in life... Much like a first person shooter... when you stop moving, you die... Crisp, clear logic... But I'm not here to preach about life, atleast not this time... Me? It feels like I've been waiting for my life to begin for some time now, and I shouldn't be... Words from an advertisement, so befitting... "Make the most of now"...

But I'm not here to preach... I'm here to tell you to keep that light alive... That light is the magical mixture of energy, hope, dreams, life, love, innocence and wonder. Keep those in mind.. those are the most important part of this post, and the most important part of your life... Protect the light with all you have, because at the end of the day, it is all you have... When all is said and done in the day, it is the light that gets you through to the next phase... It is the light that governs the colours outside your window to the world... It is the light that ignites you...

Shine On...

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In Memoriam

George Carlin
Pure Genius

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The Spotlight: Becoming/Arielle

Hi there, this entry is a guest spot that Arielle was kind enough to do for me... If you're familiar with her novel, you'll absolutely love this chapter (I certainly did). Just to make it clear, this is Chapter One of Book One except this time it's from Isis' POV (as opposed to Earric's). If you haven't read Becoming yet, you do not want to miss it!

Chapter One:

I hated pretending to be in high school. I mean, school was bad enough when I had to go, but going just for fun? That was just asinine. Amory made us, though. He wanted to blend in, he wanted to recruit. Whatever Amory said was law, and we couldn’t go against him. He gave us our second chances; he made us what we were. Posing as high school students made us seem like less of a threat, and we could loiter less conspicuously. At least, that was what he told us. A part of me didn’t really even want to go against Amory. From the day he saved me from a life of mental institutions, I fell in love with him. I loved him not only because of his handsomeness, but also his selflessness. He had dedicated his entire life to hunting vampires. That said something in itself about his character.

We moved quite frequently, keeping a low profile. We only stayed in one place for a year. Two, max. We only planned to stay here for one year. The town was so small, and it didn’t have many vampires. We would destroy the vampires living there, and then move on when our supplies ran low. If we needed fresh kills, the city of Dallas was close enough to make an evening or weekend trip up to get blood. That was the life of a vampire hunter, constantly on the move. We didn’t have much money; Amory had some savings that he used in emergencies, and we worked after-school jobs sometimes, just so we could afford rent and some food in our bellies. Grades really didn’t matter. I’d stopped studying after the fourth or fifth new school. The content never really changed.

This school was so tiny, everyone knew each other, and they were all smiling and happy. Those children, they’d never seen hardship, they’d never had to know how it felt to know the truth when no one would believe you. I had known the truth about vampires and other creatures long before I met Amory. I tried to warn my family and friends about the vampire threat, I tried to help them, but they locked me away, they labeled me crazy. It was Amory that saved me, he helped me to become powerful, he believed in me. I would follow Amory to the ends of the earth, including into this cesspool of a town.

“There’s our mark,” Amory whispered in my ear on the first day of school. His breath on my skin gave me goose bumps, but I ignored them, looking in the direction that he was pointing. We were standing in the parking lot of our new school, leaning against our blue Nissan. Standing with me and Amory were my fellow vampire hunters, Raze and Alex. Raze joined us shortly after I joined Amory, and Alex was our newest recruit. They didn’t take their job quite as seriously as Amory and I did. They were there for the power and the glory, though probably not the best reasons, since Amory limited our power, and there was absolutely no glory in our job. We hunted the vampires and we drank their blood for the power it held. Not many normal humans even knew of the existence of vampires, so they wouldn’t exactly mention us in the news or give us a medal. Still, Raze and Alex were orphans, just as I was, just as Amory was, and we all worked together, no matter what our motives were. We were a team.

I picked the girl out from the crowd, a normal looking student, with mid-length wavy brown hair. She didn’t stand out in her jeans and blue tee shirt. The only thing that kept her from looking like everyone else was that she was alone. All the other students were in groups, chatting and laughing. She was all by herself as she wandered around, waiting for the first bell to ring.

“She’s the girl with the vampire parents?” I asked him.

“Yes, that’s her.”

“When do we move in on her?” I could have easily made friends with her; she looked so lost and lonely.

“I’ll take care of this one, Isis.” Amory stared at the girl over the crowd. The parking lot was on the top of a small hill, so it was easy to view the surroundings as we leaned against the car, acting nonchalant.

“Alone? Why can’t I help?” I pouted, not wanting Amory to go off and befriend some other girl. I liked being the only girl in our group.

“Just let me do it, Isis. Her parents are dangerous, and I’m the best at hiding what we are. This is the safest way. I’ll talk to the girl after school and meet you back here afterwards. We have work to do tonight.”

“Don’t forget about it. Don’t let that girl cloud your mind.” I said, not wanting him to go, not wanting him to talk to her.

He kissed me on the cheek and I breathed in sharply, an involuntary reaction. He smiled and I knew he noticed. “I’ll see you later.”

“He’s getting too close to her,” I said to Alex as I sat in the driver’s seat, leaning over him in the passenger seat to look at Amory talking to that little hussy.

“He’s just being friendly,” Alex said quietly as he flipped through his Calculus book, not looking at me. He knew about my feelings towards Amory. Hell, everyone seemed to know, except Amory himself.

“I don’t like it. She’s too pretty.”

Raze snorted a laugh, upsetting me further.

“What?” I looked at him in the backseat. He was fiddling with a lighter, flicking it on and off, over and over again.

“You are oozing with jealousy,” He said, staring at the flame before extinguishing it.

“You’d better not catch the seat on fire. We can’t afford a new car.” Our Nissan was a few years old, and we got a good deal on it, but I wanted to keep it nice. We needed to make it last. “I don’t even know why we’re here; there are only two, maybe three vampires in this town. It’s not worth it.” I complained, resisting the urge to honk the horn at Amory.

“Amory thinks that these vampires will lead us to Chesed,” Alex said, putting the book away and pulling out a bent and torn copy of The Canterbury Tales. Required reading for our English class.

“Ah, the dreaded Chesed. Amory’s been chasing him for centuries. He should just give up already,” Raze said, waving his fingers over the flame, risking burns to ease his boredom.

“Amory will never give up, and you know it. It’s that kind of dedication that makes him such an outstanding man-”

Alex reached over and turned up the radio, drowning out my speech with heavy rock music. I immediately turned it down while Raze laughed from the backseat.

“Fine, I get your point,” I said, getting out of the car and looking over at the two. “He’s touching her,” I said. He just had his hand on her shoulder, but any physical contact was too much. Thinking fast, I tried to get Amory’s attention by yelling name, but he didn’t hear me.

“Help me, you two lazy-asses,” I said, frantically calling for him again. Raze and Alex joined in and we caught his attention, then waved for him to come to the car. We had things to do, and he was wasting our time.

He said a few more things to the girl, and then ran over to us. She got into her expensive car and drove off. I watched her leave when I’d rather have been watching Amory’s approach, but I wanted to make sure she actually left. I wanted to make sure that I was, once more, the only female.

The sun was setting as we drove into Dallas, a little over an hour away from our small town. We needed blood, and we couldn’t hunt in the town, not yet. Vampires were easy enough to find, they frequented the poor sections of town, picking off victims that wouldn’t be missed, victims whose deaths wouldn’t be investigated. The moon was bright in the sky, not quite full, but close enough. It was a good time to hunt. The vampires would be out hunting as well.

The four of us easily took down the vampire. We’d found him actually posing as a homeless man, attempting to gain the trust of other homeless, then luring them into secluded areas where he would subdue them and drink their liquor-filled blood. The high alcohol content probably didn’t do anything for him, but he had a good system going on. Blood was plentiful for him in this area, and he was careless.

Of course, he didn’t go down without a fight, but we had hunted together enough to be able to get him. Tonight was Alex’s turn to make the killing blow, stabbing the vampire in the heart, obliterating the vital organ. Then, Amory made a cut near the man’s neck and proceeded to drain the vampire’s blood into an old, cleaned, gallon-sized milk jug. We brought several with us, but we ended up not using them all. Alex was still the newest, and the killing blow had been messy, causing more blood loss than we wanted. He pulled out his knife and licked it, not wanting to waste any of that precious elixir of life. After Amory got all he could, Raze poured gasoline on the vampire and used his lighter to catch the dead vampire on fire. It would burn more completely and faster than a human would in that fire, especially accelerated by the gasoline. Vampires, while strong, are pathetic creatures and have many weaknesses if you know where to find them. The dismal monsters can only survive by leeching off of humans, something that they used to be. Their lives are filled with only death and blood, a never-ending cycle. It is a similar life to that of a vampire hunter, yet not quite the same. They are greedy, choosing an existence based solely on their want for immortality, their desire to live on. Even if it means killing to gain that power, they want it. We hunters, on the other hand, while dependent on the blood of the vampires just as they depend on the blood of humans, only kill the monsters, not the innocents. That’s what separates us from the vampires. That is the fine line between us.

I crept, wordlessly, into Amory’s room, shutting the door behind me. He was awake, of course, his dark brown eyes peering at me in the dim light of his reading lamp. He had the same copy of The Canterbury Tales that Alex had been flipping through earlier in the car. He was propped up in his king-sized bed on some pillows. He had the largest bed, sleeping in the bed that was supposed to belong to our imaginary parents.

“Are you alright, Isis?” He asked me, patting the empty area on his bed, a spot for me to sit down and tell him my woes. My heart sped up at his invitation, but I tried to ignore it. He was just being nice.

“I’m okay, I guess.” I sighed and tried to breathe normally as I sat on the edge of the bed next to him, my back to him. This was going to be a difficult conversation, but I had to act now, before he got closer to that other girl.

He was silent behind me and I turned slightly to look at him. He was just sitting there, waiting for me to say what I was going to say. He was always like this, so understanding. If only he’d picked up on all my hints, all my subtle flirting.

“Amory, I’ve waited all this time for you to make a move, and you never have. You’re such a gentleman. I know that you’d never dream of trying to take advantage of me because we work together and live together.” I looked away again, down into my lap. “Sometimes though, sometimes I wish that you weren’t such a gentleman. I wish that you would just make that move. I’m so open to you, so inviting, and you never come in. We’ve been together for such a long time, but we’ve never actually been together.”
I heard him put down his book and he leaned over and touched my shoulder, a gesture that mirrored the one he had given that girl earlier in the day in the parking lot. I turned again to look at him, hoping the look in his eyes would mirror my wanting gaze. Instead, they were empty.

“Isis, I saved you from something worse than death. Your mind and heart were broken and damaged. You were on the brink of insanity not because you were truly insane, but because they made you that way. Even if you are better now, I feel like a father that can’t see his daughter as a grown woman. To me, you’re still that damaged girl, strapped to a hospital bed. That’s what I see, that’s what I’ve sworn to protect you from.” His empty eyes began to fill with emotion, sadness. It was a distant sadness, he was remembering the past.

I turned my whole body around and held his sad face in my hands. “I’m better now, Amory. I’m fixed. You fixed me, you saved me. Now I need a different kind of saving. I need you to accept me as a woman; I want you to be my boyfriend. I want to be yours and you to be mine.” I leaned in to kiss his lips, but he turned his head at the last minute and his lips brushed my cheek, an all-too-familiar gesture.

He pulled away and looked into my eyes, “Isis, you deserve better than me. I am a vessel for revenge. That is all I exist for. I am here on this world still breathing only to avenge the death of my parents and rid this world of Chesed, the abomination that I helped to create. You deserve someone who will love you with all their heart, not someone who is only preoccupied with death and vengeance.”

I began to cry, I couldn’t help it. He rejected me. “What about after you kill Chesed? I’m here to help you kill him. So is Alex, so is Raze. We will do it together. Then, after we kill him, you and I can be together!”

He hugged me suddenly, causing me to cry even harder, getting his nightshirt wet. “Isis, even if I survive my eventual fight with Chesed, I will be done with this life.”
“Done?” I cried in-between sobs.

“I’m getting too old for this, Isis. I may not look that old, but I am slowly tiring. Once Chesed dies, I will end my own life. Humans aren’t meant to live this long.”

“I won’t let you,” I pulled away and wiped my face.

“You won’t let me.” He made it a statement, a smirk on his face.

“I won’t lose you, not to Chesed, not to that girl, and not to yourself.” I said, leaving the room, slamming the door behind me. He may have rejected me, but it wasn’t the end.

I remembered something and yelled it through the door, “Oh, you’d better find your own ride tomorrow! Hope you like the BUS!” Satisfied, I went to my room and got ready for bed, my own anger and resolve keeping the tears at bay.

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Tagged: The 6 Quirk Disease

So finally, it's a tag that forces me to reveal things about myself... Something I would not normally do on my blog... but here goes anyway. Thanks to the taggers, and I pity the taggee's (credit for that goes to great inventor of insane words... againstthegrain)

And I was originally tagged by QuarterPastSeven... There, I think that's about all the acknowledging I have to do... I thought double tagging was againsttherules? :)

'Rules help control the fun!', so I do have to mention them:
These are the rules:

1. Link to the person(s) who tagged you

2. Mention these rules on your blog

3. List 6 unspectacular quirks of yours…

4. Tag 6 bloggers by linking to them…

5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged Blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged…

Quirks!! All the stuff you can torture me about :P

1) I like to AirSing, i.e. mouth the words of a song when I'm listening to it on my phone/mp3. You will not hear a word from my mouth, but if you're a lipreader, you'd get a real treat :) I'll do this everywhere... from the tube, to on buses to while walking down the street... I will however, never do this when with someone I know. And then there's AirGuitaring, which I hardly need explain. And I have no idea how to play a real guitar, by the way... I just put on a real good show :) holding all the right cords and concentrating intensely on my hand movements... Sometimes I AirDrum, but it's really hard to do that while walking and not look like a retard...

2) I have an obsession for organisation. Everything has its place in my room, and some of it is just not practical. Everything MUST be arranged in lines, squares, rectangles and rhombuses. Never circles, in case you were wondering. My table HAS to be clean all the time, and I will try to organize the most impossible things. Including friend's computers... I'm sure some of you are familiar with my whining about YOUR computer :) And I will kill you if you touch my stuff... I will... Don't disturb the fighter wing formation on my desk... you risk having your eyes gouged out..

3) I have an aversion to incorrect spelling and grammar, and I cannot stand "lol"... And when I say I can't stand "lol", I mean I can't stand "Rotfl", "Rofl", "Lmao", "AFAIK" and tons of other 'forumspeak'. It is not a language, get it out of my face. This has direct tie ins to 'organisation'. I also cannot get my head around using "Wicked" to denote something that is, in fact, excellent... Maybe I'm just too last century...

4) Any girl that walks with me must always walk on the 'safe' side of the pavement, or should always sit on the 'safe' side of the rick. I will insist on walking/riding in this way, and no other way, and I will like you much less if you make a big deal about it. The safe side is the inside (away from the road), and I've always had this obsession.

5) I am guilty of sometimes listening (and singing along) to the Backstreet Boys, Bryan Adams, Hilary Duff and Westlife. I'm sorry, but their music is addictive. And don't you dare 'diss' Hilary Duff... I'm absolutely in love with her, and have been for a very long time (although I liked her better when she was fat and had blonde hair). Oh, and add Ricky Martin to that list... I found this old CD called "Ricky Martin 99", and throw it on from time to time... LIVIN' LA VIDA LOCA!! :P okay, sorry... I also have obsessions with ABBA, The Carpenters and The Beatles, but those are still considered normal (right?)

6) I am in love with aircraft... While others are excitedly talking about hand crafted engines on the new Ferrari whatever three hundred and whatnot... I'm talking about the Pratt and Whitney F100... And when you say Rolls-Royce, my mind first connects to aircraft engine manufacture and then moves on to the car manufacture if that is not what you are talking about... I don't know crap about cars or bikes, and I look really stupid and 'uncool' when someone is talking about them... but I can just throw STOVL at them and they won't know what to make of it :)

So that's it... That's some stuff about me that is probably exclusive to me... I think that makes them quirks... So anyway... who do I tag? who do I tag? :) I tag:

1) Maliha
2) Half Truths and Fictions
3) Arielle/Becoming
4) Lalaine/Relativity
5) Confused College Girl
6) Elise

Arr... Get quirking and tagging...

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The Gaming Stigma

So I finally ran out of excuses to not update my blog... Plus studying seemed less inviting than this... so here I am! How's everyone been? :)

So anyway, after extensive research... here's the answer to all your problems... If you're in *really* deep shit, one sure fire way to get out of it is to say you play video games... Then no matter what you've done (murder, drugs, rape... really... WHATEVER), it's a video game that's to blame.

It's just utterly fucking pissing off that you actually have the nerve to blame a video game when something goes wrong. Once you blame it, how about suing left right and center? Take this article for example (I know it's a bit old, but it's one of the best examples of what I'm trying to explain). I understand the grief of the matter, but how does it even make sense to sue Sony for the tragedy? Sony, for chrissakes...

"There are police at every turn, and endless opportunities to take them down"

Um, NO... Play the fucking game before you talk as though you know it! True, there are police at every turn, but you go around 'taking them down' and you're game is going to be pretty screwed, pretty fast... If GTA's taught me anything... It's to not screw around with the cops...

I say again, I do understand what happened, and the gravity of the situation. I am in no way deadened to it, and I know what "three people dead" means, and it was horrible, no doubt, but blaming something else is not the answer. That's like saying violent movies inspire you to kill people everywhere. And you know what? That WAS the theory for a really long time, until video games came along, and people had new excuses.

How about this?

"Detectives said the game provoked a street gang accused of robbing and killing six people"

COME ON!! Notice how it said "Street Gang"? Hey, Let's play some GTA and then go out and kill people... because the game wants us to do that, and we're teenagers... we obviously don't know any better...

The game itself is much like any other game. The GTA Title has existed for a very long time, and I used to be an avid player of GTAII (no less violent, just less 3D). The fact that they're linking murders to games means there's something so inherently wrong with us... How far is the blame going to go till it comes back to who it really belongs to in the first place. Us. And the Sopranos were obviously so fucking angelic were they? Even won tons of awards for their absolute "Old lady love" factor... The game itself is highly mission oriented and goal driven, so really it's not a game based solely on mindless violence. Mindless violence will kill you... In the game, and in real life... and they got that down pat.

There's virtually no difference between the real world and violent games today... Killing people? Happens Everyday... Stealing Cars? Insurance companies for what? And the real world came first. So it's more a case of Virtual violence inspired by real violence. Stop looking at me like I'm too stupid to know the difference between real and imagined violence, and don't look at me like I don't understand cause and effect.... consequences...

I really wish people would think (i.e. touch a game, even Pokemon) before they start talking. And I wish they would stop acting so enlightened about everything. They really aren't. There are still millions of kids with "risk factors" that play GTA4 and go through each day making it a point to not kill people... There is no room for mindless mowing down of people, and the reason GTA is so popular is because its a simulator.. Not a murder simulator, but a real life simulator. I used to love Midtown Madness because of the choice of mission oriented driving, or just plain cruising. GTA lets me do what I want... I can drive a taxi if I want to and earn money for every fare... It's the freedom to do whatever I want, and no other game has that...

Games don't kill people... Ideas kill people... People kill people... And to highlight that, I take one of my favorite quotes, from an article I read somewhere
"You wake up one morning and you're fat. What do you do? You sue McDonalds. Hell, it must be someone else's fault. You're not to blame."

Quote from CtrlAltDel (If you do decide to begin reading, read it from the beginning!)

"So let's play a game, let's find tons of things that are wrong with the world, and blame them on video games... And you get extra points if you can blame World War II on games"

Tackle some real fucking problems will you? I'm sure you'll find some if you pull your head out of your ass.

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Why are you, lady?

Who are you? Dear bank teller lady? What is it that makes you so self assured and confident of yourself? Is it that you sit behind a Counter that has a Safety Glass fitted with a Time Delay Lock? Or is it that you love the service you are in? Or is it that you are fake?

What tune do you hum when you put on your impeccable blue suit in the morning? What beat do you tap to when you step out of the shower? What faces do you make at the mirror after wiping the steam clean? How much time do you leave yourself in the morning to throw open the curtains and take in the fresh air?

Do you say goodbye to your daughter? Or is it your son? Your partner? Perhaps a dog, a cat or a mouse... Or do you say goodbye to Cap'n Crunch? Do you have anyone to say goodbye to? Do you want someone, or are you convincing yourself that you are happy, for now, you are happy?

Do you smile at the bus driver and thank him, or do you smile at the cute guy making eyes at you on the tube? Do you vacate your seat for "Those less able to stand"? Do you play your music really loud or eat smelly food? Is it incredibly stupid that I ask this of a woman in an impeccable blue suit? Do you take your car to work, thinking about your ever increasing carbon footprint in the back of your head? Do you drum on the steering wheel to Jimi Hendrix, the Beatles or is it the All American Rejects?

Are you the one who says "Hi" to everyone at the office or are you the one who sits quietly in a corner, talking to just a couple of people? Are you loved or hated and do you know it? Can you be sure? Why does it matter to you if it does, my lady? Do you bother saying anything to the Too full of himself manager? Would it kill you to?

Why are you so nice to me? Is it because you're nice, or is it because you have to be? Is that smile genuine? Has years of the same smile done wonders for your acting skills or your skin? Would you care if I actually cared about your smile other than the business I am on the other side of the Time Delay Lock? Would you consider that human or none of my goddamn business?

I have to ask you, is your glamor a farce? Does the world turn gray and lonely each and every day at the end of the day or is it a world filled with vibrant colors and natural hues? Is your smile as ready when you head back home? Is it even half attempted even though you're tired? Or did it never exist in the first place?

Do you understand the world you live in? Do you need to be told about wonders or are you experiencing them? Are you happy or unhappy or numb? What are you lady? and Why?

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The Great Religious Post

No matter how much I promise myself that I will NOT breach the subject of religion on my blog, it's always at the back of my head, and when there's stuff in my head, it usually drags me to the keyboard, kicking and screaming... My mum gets pretty pissed off about the fingernail scrapes on the walls.

There are several reasons I don't want to write a post about religion. The best of these reasons are that writing it would be like opening Pandora's box, and that I don't quite want my thoughts on religion known (lest someone reports me as "Objectionable Content").

No, I'm not exactly a fanatic.. Not exactly...

Too many people ask me about my religion, and the truth is, I don't know what to say. To say that I'm an atheist wouldn't be entirely correct because I don't know whether God exists or not, and I can't make a call on something I don't know. Then I thought, Well, that makes me agnostic, but that didn't quite stick (I'll tell you why in a while). So now I'm stuck wishing all forms would incorporate anti religious instead of "I prefer not to say". Ticking the "I prefer not to say" box actually says a hell of a lot about you.

So why exactly am I 'anti-religious'? Well, if you haven't guessed already, I suggest you grab the nearest newspaper and tell me how much of it has anything at all to do with religion. Religion has infiltrated every single aspect of our lives, it governs the way we do almost everything, and it inspires darkness rather than showing us the light... It's like Facebook on steroids..

Sure, the basic idea of religion was to do good in the world.. But something just went terribly wrong and God's grand plan was screwed up by man... in the form of religion. Religion is man-made. I was filling up some NHS forms for my family yesterday (since it's a lot of work, I'm principal form filler for my family). I ticked "Hindu/Hinduism" for my family, and I filled out "None" for me. I guess that pretty much means the same as Anti-religious, but anyway, conversation ensued:

Mom: "Tsk... I've seen a lot of people like you in my time... Who say that they don't belong to any religion"

Me: "I'm not saying I don't believe in God, I'm just saying religion is perverting the very course of God's plan."

Mom: "What's wrong with religion?"

Me: "What's wrong with religion? Why is there so much anger and killing in the name of religion? And why even worship God this way or that? Why not just do it our own way?"

Mom: "Yes, do that then"

Me: "Which is what I'm doing!"

All I'm saying here is that religion sure is the cause of a lot of good in the world, but why do we twist it until it causes discomfort, darkness, anger and pain for others around us? What exactly IS religion other than a set of beliefs? Why must it dictate everything we do? Why is it that even if you sin, it becomes okay if you go to your respective place of worship and ask for forgiveness? Think about it... Who really is forgiving you? Your priest. So what you're saying technically is that if your conscience was a person... it would be him? At the end of the day, the yardstick you measure yourself by is the weight of your conscience...

Think Christianity... Why is it that there are no female priests? Think Islam... Why are Muslim women not allowed to enter the inner sanctum of a mosque? Why are their husbands allowed to be polygamous, while they are beaten and killed if they dare accuse someone of rape? Think Hinduism... Why is it that the caste system still exists in a developing country like India? I'm not pointing any fingers here, I'm sure there are tons of things wrong with a lot of other religions (and my god there are so many)...

And you wanna know what the scariest bit is?? That if we had a chance to start over with absolutely no memory... We'll still somehow evolve into our stupid beliefs... I can't say I believe in God, because I don't know if the God that you say exists, does really exist. I guess I just hate the idea of not being in control of my fate.

But I can tell you that I know there is a higher power than all of us, and most times, that power is used as an excuse to explain the unexplained. But sometimes, it fits, and it makes sense, and we catch a glimpse of that positive force. And it's beautiful.

Why contaminate that beauty with such a thing as base as religion?

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Okay... so Home... I got thinking about this in class today (class is that magical time of day when I get to do absolutely nothing)... Anyway... So I got thinking about how London is starting to feel more like home... and then I started to think about every place I've called home for the 17 years I've been alive... and how every place I've ever lived in was a home, and not a house... even though it was a home for a terribly short period of time and it's someone else's home now...

I've never ever really had a constant "home" like you hear about in the movies, books and normal person lives... Homes that people can't bear to leave because they have memories woven into the thread of their house... of growing up... where they have a special feeling for every little bit of the house and home is always a place that is constant... that exists always at that one spot.. and where you will always be welcome...

So home for me has been everywhere on that map you see... all the red dots...
The earliest memory I had of a Home was in Kanpur, UP, India... UP stands for Uttar Pradesh, which means Northern State in Hindi.... Which is fine because it it a northern state. I remember we had this huge house (or maybe I was just tiny)... and it was all on one floor and we had an apple tree or something in the garden and I used to just lie under it and watch clouds go by... I don't even remember how old I was then (1st grade or less)... but it's this one memory that stands out... And this other one about when my dad was teaching me how to ride a bicycle... He would never allow me trainer wheels.. so yeah.. I finally got the hang of it and I started going.. but no one ever told me where the brakes were... No... I wasn't dumb enough to go crashing into cars or brick walls... I just jumped off the bike... with very Spiderman like agility... Although I wouldn't hear about spiderman for several years...

See, you might not understand how I was able to do all of this, but the reason I could also has to do with the reason I never stay at one place for more than two years... My dad's a pilot in the Air Force... and that's the reason I am how I am... A defense base is a very... secluded trusty sort of place... I love that I've lived inside Air force bases or colonies all my life... There's something so different about it...

You'll never know unless you're an Defense Officer's Child.. notice the capitals... There's a difference to such an upbringing.. I'm not saying I'm better than you or anything.. I just happen to take pride in where I'm coming from... all that I've learnt... the fact that I have to hold my head up high, keep my back straight and my shoulders wide... The fact that respecting women is second nature and the woman is always first... How everything is so organised and people are being people to each other... The parties at the officer's mess and the visits to the Officer's library where any self respecting kid always took out an Asterix or a Tintin... Respecting my parents no matter what, and always considering their word as the last word... Service is a pleasure rather than a pain and respect defines what I do every step of the way...

I don't think any of you will get this... Anyway... this has gone on quite long... To be continued... :)

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Physics 101: Flight

Well, I thought it was about time that I did some good with my blog, so here's the good... Physics was pretty much my favorite science subject in high school, and you'd be amazed at all the things Physics controls and how incredibly interesting it can be...

So your first Physics 101 lesson... Flight... And if you've always wondered how airplanes fly, well, I'm here to tell you that it's NOT because of the engine, although the engine plays a role... Think of it this way, if you took a great massive engine, and you bolted it onto, say a barn door... You wouldn't have an airplane so much as a mess...

So the secret to flight? The wing... It's all in the wing of the airplane, and the rest is just simple aerodynamics and laws of motion... Contrary to what you may have thought, the wing of an airplane is not flat, and neither is it symmetrical (except for a few exceptions)... It looks more like the picture on the left...

So from the picture on the left, you can see that the top of the wing is curved lots, while the bottom is predominantly flat... Of course there are a great many variety of wings, and you'll find symmetrical ones too (on aerobatic planes)... But for the purpose of this discussion (and to cover all modern airliners) we'll talk about the flat bottom wing... So flight needs to be based on a theory... And that theory is Bernoulli's Theorem...

Bernoulli's Theorem states that the greater the velocity of air, the lower the amount of pressure it exerts... Basically, the faster air moves, the lower pressure it has on objects around it... I must say here that the picture is not entirely accurate... Specifically, the first bit, where it says "...greater distance to travel, and must move faster.." The thing is, air does not actually do any such thing... The air on the bottom is actually slower than the air on top because the air on top creates a vortex that works against the air at the bottom... But for now, just know that the air at the bottom is slower than the air that is going above the wing... So now, because of the shape of the wing, the air under the wing travels at a slow speed, and thus the pressure is higher than the pressure of air on top of the wing. So we have a high pressure zone below the wing, and a low pressure zone above the wing... There's a blanket of air under the wing, and no blanket above it... So the wing rises... An interesting fact is that if you increased the throttle of an airplane sitting on the runway, and did nothing else at all, then after a while the airplane would automatically lift of the ground... no hands :)

So again, Why is the wing important? Because when you get in an airplane, you generally want to be moving in one or both of two directions, namely, forward... and up... GENERALLY i said... don't start giving me crap about landing patterns and helicopters... So there are four forces acting on an airplane... And the picture pretty much explains it... The wing produces lift, against gravity... While the engine (the other important bit) produces thrust to move the plane forward, against drag, which is created by air particles and acts upon anything except itself...

So it's pretty obvious that drag is much less for a smaller leading cross section. That's why airplanes have noses and look cool :) Because their shapes are designed to minimize drag... Consider this... If you put your hand out the window of a fast car, the only way you'd meet the least resistance from air was if you made it flat.. just like an airplane.. try it otherwise... much harder isn't it?

Right-o... So what's the need for the rest of the stuff on the plane? Like the flaps, slats, air brakes (i think that one's obvious), ailerons, elevators (again.. obvious) and the tail? Well, it's all quite simple and every single little thing is important and quite extraordinary... But I'm afraid that's pretty much all I can type out right now... So Await your next installment of Physics 101...

And let me know if you want to hear about all the other crap... And I promise I will write.. not like the other stuff I've promised (*cough*India*cough*)...

And tell me if this is a crap idea!! :)

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Ideas, Inc.

Now who's idea was it that an "Idea" should be represented as a lightbulb?

So I'm doing this IT course... Let's just leave it at that... Already warning flags start going off in your head that "Oh, you know why he's in IT"... but no, I'm into computers.. not IT.. a subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless...

I'm also studying a unit called Information Systems, or MIS, which basically deals with how organisations (almost all sorts), need a good structure to manage their information flow (stop snoring damnit!) so that, well, they minimize its cost and maximize the output obtained from it. Quite simply, MIS is how to milk data for all it's worth... MIS also happens to cover different departments in an organization and how they interact, and every time my tutor highlights various different "obvious" department, I always wonder why there's no "Ideas" department...

Sorry about that, I just needed to show you where I was coming from. An Ideas department, not a Creative department, or an Advertising department... Just an ideas department...

This brings me to a much more general... well, musing... Where do ideas come from? What inspires an idea, and what makes them so strong that they will prevail in the face of continual barrages of logic? In fact, who gave Thomas Edison the idea of a lightbulb in the first place, and why wouldn't he quit after his first two hundred tries??

I see an Idea as a positive energy of the world... Even a horrible idea, or a "negative" idea... Every idea is positive, because it takes its roots in the human mind in the form of hope... And HOPE.. as we all know, is always positive... It's a sad theory, but it's pretty good (and it's mine, so don't you dare..) But where do they come from? I know I've asked you questions before, and this may seem really stupid anyway... I mean, who cares where they come from? They just come right? Before you start thinking that, remember that every single thing that you see around you was an idea in someone's head before that someone had to do something about it...

Beautiful really... the idea of an idea... the idea of a universe of ideas...

Oh, and my patent is pending on "Ideas, Inc."... So no stealing...

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17 Days to go for Hardy Heron!!! Yay? Nay?

I've always wondered what it would be like if I came out with blogs that had utter gibberish that no one was interested in... Not that I don't do that already, but I'm talking about complete gibberish... Like the sentence above.. or the banner alongside >>

Most of you have no idea what I'm talking about do you? Exactly... And I'm not going to explain either... I mean, sure, I could be this lone messiah for Linux amongst all you Microsoft infidels, but then you still wouldn't care... You don't have the time

I love differences... It's what makes everything so interesting and explosive... It's sort of what makes us human or animal or just somewhere in between, and it's what sets off anger, passion, hatred and trust... Imagine a world filled with a million YOUs... Yep.. pretty boring... Nobody to talk to because you could just talk to yourself...

The reason I got to thinking about differences was another blog... You probably already know which one that is... I'm not sure about trackbacks on this thing, so you'll know if I figure out... damnit you don't know what I'm saying again... So yes... Why am I different?? Airplanes and Computers interest me more than Cars and Bikes... The hottest girl on the planet would bore me in a day or two unless she was smart/interesting enough... Really... Looks do matter... but only for the first twenty four hours or so... sort of like when you get a new toy... the sheen lasts for twenty four hours... I am crazily possessive about my things... You are not allowed to touch anything that belongs to me... I will start freaking out if you hold it/'admire it' for more than five seconds...

Wow... I think my head is about to fall off... Let me tell you... five hours of need for speed is not good for you...

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Goin' Places

That's a picture from Heathrow International.

It's quite staggering. The number of people who are traveling or going somewhere at any given time on any given day. New York, Dubai, Miami, Copenhagen, Mumbai, Oslo, Chicago, Hong Kong. Everywhere.. People just keep going and coming...

And they're so organised at it... Everything happens so smoothly and no one thinks twice about it... The airports, the seaports, the buses, taxis, cars and horses... they're all always so full. People are always arriving somewhere or are departing to somewhere.

Life is really just about that isn't it... departing from where you are right now... and arriving someplace better while making sure no one steals your bag, and you don't sit next to an "unattended" bag... I guess things used to be a lot simpler... you didn't have to worry about that unattended bag crap... Risks are like plane tickets... they cost a hell of a lot... but you never know what you might find at your destination... It sucks to fly solo...

Anywhere is okay... I'm not very intent on arriving anywhere...

I love this song... 'Sitting on the dock of the bay'... It's the laziest song in the world... Perfect for a slow sunday afternoon :)

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The Pleasure of their Company

Humanity. I just don’t understand what it is with humanity. So here I was just about to call humanity an idea, but nothing that’s truly ever there… And then I met my taxi driver.

Like I said in my last blog, I was in Tumkur because of an exam… Well, the truth is, I flunked it on the first attempt, and the second time, I wasn’t allowed into the examination centre (long story) because I was late because I forgot my admission ticket at home. So right now, nobody really trusts me… Really not fair since it’s only happened once… but there it is… I’ve gotten used to it now… So that brings me to tuition for my examination and how I MUST have a taxi to get there and back because otherwise I’ll just fall into a gutter or something…

But I’m not complaining… The driver was a really nice person, and we talked about everything from the mileage that he get from his bike to how people who don’t know how to drive should just stay the hell off the road. What really surprised me that he invited me to his house, when I’d known him for just about five days or so and we couldn’t really talk about everything under the sun considering the fact that I couldn’t really speak his native language, and he couldn’t speak mine… I surprise you don’t I?

So I accepted his invitation, and I told him we’d go after tuitions one day, and I did… I met his family, and they turned out to be just marvellous. There’s this feeling that you get when you are actually welcome in somebody’s company, and then there’s this feeling of… closed doors. Their doors were wide open for someone they barely knew, and they were speaking to me as though I was a long lost friend of theirs. I’ll admit I was slightly taken back at this because, well, because how many times in a year does something like this happen to you eh? Well, basically I had an amazing time.

Why though? This has happened to me before as well (some of you might remember). Here I was walking along the road, going home from tuition, and this completely random dude on a moped stops, tells me to “Get on, I’ll drop you!” and off we went, weaving through streets that would’ve taken me another half an hour to walk. He dropped me off safe and sound close to home, and accelerated away before I could finish thanking him profusely. And to date I don’t know his name, although I will never forget his face. The thing is, he was riding a moped, and people who ride mopeds in India aren’t usually anywhere near the upper or upper middle class. They are usually people with not a lot of money. He didn’t need to pick me up, yet he did. Why? Why is it that every time the people who have the time to help never do, and the people who are hard pressed for anything in life are the ones who are always willing to go that extra mile, completely out of their way, just to be humane.

And the funny thing about both these incidents is that both of them have happened when I was feeling really down in the dumps about stuff. Humanity… I really wish I got it…

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First Day of the Rest of my Life

Where have I been the past three weeks (you’ve missed me, oh yes, you have…)? I’m typing this out on my computer while sitting in Tumkur, Karnataka, India. I’m here because I flunked this Math exam last year, and I can’t do much until I get through it… And I’ve been away so long because there aren’t many hotspots here (it’s a small town), and I’m supposed to be hitting the books 24/7… You can’t even imagine how hard it is to “hit books” when the other half of my heart is two hours away from me, thinking about me and waiting for me… Ah, but I did see her… Standing there looking as beautiful and divine and belonging to me as ever… A kiss after 10 months of waiting is almost like a first kiss...

Ahem… So where was I?? Yes, The first day of the rest of my life… The first day of the rest of my life is the 24th of March, 2008. This is the day that I return to England from India, and this is also the day that Divya and I are officially over. Forever. Does it mean something then, that our anniversary is on the 23rd? It doesn’t matter. But I’m not going to bore you with details about my life and why this and that happens… Stuff just happens right? You just smile and move on, and make sure there are never any issues… Issues = Problems… Well, what’s happening is happening and I will believe that anything that happens, does so for the best… Either way, the both of us are going to be alright sooner or later, one way or another… Like the sign that says “pass both ways for same destination”… Life is not a movie, son… Maybe it doesn’t have to be so heartachey all the time… Maybe it is… But one thing’s for certain… There’s a part of me she is always going to own… and that part is never going to be mine again… This feels like love…

So why the title? Because the 24th is the day that I’ve decided things are-a-changing… Change is good right? We change all the time, everyday, every experience changes us in some way or another… Strictly speaking, we only experience proper disorientation a few times of life because major changes only take place a few times in our life… The others, well, you either sat there ignoring (that’s your own fault)… or you made a smooth transition… I do digress quite a lot, don’t I?

This is the day that I leave India for England, and the difference this time is that I truly move on… No trying, no waiting, no hiding… just plain moving on, with no questions asked… I wonder how this is going to feel… Every time I’ve been confronted with major change in my life, I’ve looked forward to it, because change has always felt good for me… I’m sort of a change junkie… I find it very hard to stay in one place for a very long time, I prefer being on the move, never stopping at a single place for too long lest I find that it gets boring and I start cursing it… Oh, and I love packing (yeah, I’m that weird)… That’s one of the side effects of living the life of a DOS (Defence Officer’s Son) (okay, so that’s an abbreviation I made up)…

Maybe now I’ll pay more attention to England and the people here and just life abroad really… Maybe now I’ll pay more attention to friends, and maybe I’ll try paying a little less attention to work… Things are-a-changing…

So I’m back J

Wish me luck!!

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Digital Memories

Sort through your email. Honestly, sort through all of your old email and that is enough to start making you feel nostalgic. Then maybe you'll write that old friend the letter you've been meaning to, and maybe you'll rebuild a bridge...

My email inbox is always 1% full.. 1% of my life on the internet... It's that one percent that matters here on the vast web... Because that one percent is filled with hope, desire, trust, experience and most importantly, truth, love and heartbreak. I can't help but think about how far I've come since I opened my email inbox. And it really wasn't that long ago either.

I have hurriedly dashed off one line messages, angry one line messages, sad one line messages... Then I have paragraphs... And finally, I come to incredibly large ten paragraph emails, and a paragraph in my book is seven lines or something. And in every one of those emails is something that is a part of me... Be it a secret crush that never came to much, a not so secret crush that was, well... the best nightmare of my life, letters to friends whining, seeking help and celebrating, letters to family wishing them Happy all-sorts-of-things, and nagging them for advice on not so many... I came across emails with feeling in them, as opposed to a wall post that won't make a tiny bit of difference to you tomorrow. I would not have found a pillar of support and a best friend had it not been for that inbox, and tons of email traffic back and forth... And everytime that bond starts to fade, A simple email will do... no questions asked about where and why the absence... An email is all it takes...

Honestly speaking, that email inbox forged me friendships that I will never forget, and it documents every smile and every tear that was ever cried by me or a Super Awesome People (don't ask :) ). That email inbox holds more worth than any number of "social networking sites" that you throw at me... It really puts stuff in perspective... How I've changed over the years, how I've grown and how I can now say that I have a brain... It's a timeline of sorts for your soul...

So yeah, If you've been on the internet long enough, take my advice, and if you're not incredibly busy, just sift through your inbox... Find a window to you :)

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I feel fine

Or rather... "I'm in love with her, and I feel fine"

I hope that answers the principal question all of you put forth in your previous comments. And for everyone who calls me a bloody idiot for doing that... Well, I can't say that I care... I guess I just do what I feel like at the end of the day, and somehow, nothing felt more right than that...

Anyway, this is one of those boring posts... the ones that go on forever and ever and you may just fall asleep somewhere along the way... but you may find a moral here... somewhere.. bah..

It's funny how I feel that the post before this wasn't me... How I can't relate to anything written in that post, or how at some point of time, those lyrics were fueling my emotion and my pain... It feels as though pain is something foreign right now.. Like that whole thing never happened... If you came up to me today and asked me how i'm holding up, I'd say Fine... and I would honestly mean it... Maybe that's just strange, and it can't be too good either, but it really does help.

I can't seem to get this lyric outta my head... It's from a song by Train... (Yes, my taste in music isn't much to talk about)"You used to tell me there's a time we all deserve to lose our minds"...

I lost my mind in that post... Losing your mind helps pain... Pain goes away, and the next day you wake up, and then you start to regret thing that you did... And then you start to curse, and then you start to hate yourself for what you've done... That's the worse bit of losing your mind... I don't think I've ever felt like that before, and I'm quite sure I never want to feel like that again... Pain is a foreign feeling...

And the wheel of time is still spinning, life is still moving, and I'm stooping to pick up the pieces and I'm stumbling on... Figuring out a way to stand up and walk on... One of my comments... "Happiness comes from within you, not from anyone or anything"... I like to say you're as happy as you want to be... and I figure that applies to most of the world... Maybe I haven't really dealt with any real pain in my life to know that, but it does make sense... You're only as sad as you want to be, for however long you want to be... I dunno... I'm just your average 17 year old... Head full of philosophy and not a bit of practicality... I guess that means I think with my heart... But I don't... I'm not a risk taker...

It gets me down sometimes.. Her being a thousand miles away... Because it would be absolutely perfect if I could just see her and feel her everyday... To those of you who have the good fortune of seeing that special person every single day.. Don't be a fucking idiot...

I love her... I love her no less that I loved her before this nightmare began... I think I love her more.. I know what I feel, and I'm certainly not an idiot... I know exactly what I'm doing.. I always have.. It doesn't feel like I can ever be as happy as I feel when I'm with her... but I'm not.. she's a thousand miles away... She's all I've ever dreamed of and wanted... and she's the one who keeps me true to myself and keeps me a good person... more or less... Deep down, I know I don't deserve something as special and as perfect as this... even though I sometimes pretend otherwise, I know that if I ever lose her, I can never ever find something like this... She is just absolutely beautiful and divine... but she's also one hell of a lady... :)

Alright.. Now I'm beginning to ramble...

Oh, and thank you guys for your support.. And I would really like to know who the second anonymous was... Sorry my posting has been out of the ordinary lately... I shall be back on my feet soon :)

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"Hope, dangles on a string,
Like slow spinning redemption"

- from "Vindicated" by Dashboard Confessional

Read this slowly, and you may connect...

Hope... such a beautiful thing, yet not without it's own terrible consequences...

Hope, so strong and so powerful... Good and bad...

How am I ever expected to deal with such a thing as hope? To guard myself against false hope is the safest thing to do, and with that hope loses all meaning. Nobody can ever live without hope... Living without hope nullifies the meaning, and the very essence of existence. Hope is like an aspiration, something to look up to... Nobody can stay without a goal for very long... Short term or long term, everybody needs something to look up to, look forward to...

"So much, for all the promises you made, they served you well,
and now you're gone, and they're wasted on me"

- from "Rapid Hope Loss" by Dashboard Confessional

How am I ever expected to deal with things such as hope or trust or belief or love? How does one guard themselves against them? How the hell am I ever supposed to isolate myself from anger and pain and disappointment?

"I'm waiting for blood, to flow to my fingers,
I'll be all right when my hands get warm,
Ignoring the phone, I'd rather say nothing,
I'd rather you'd never heard my voice"

- From "The Best Deceptions" by Dashboard Confessional

It's so amazing how hopes and dreams can keep you so buoyant and make sure that you stay on top of the world for such a long time... and it's equally amazing (yet disastrously so) how hopes and dreams awry can get you into one hell of a fucked up place in your life double time... I'm here... In this fucked up place right now... It's not the end of the world, but it certainly doesn't feel like a fucking joyride either... Life will go on, I guess I'll have to go on with it... Disappointment and Experience are two of the harshest teachers on your average journey in life, so make sure you learn a hell of a lot from them before time washes them away again...
"You've been asking me to bleed,
It seems these kinds of questions,
They come too easy to you now..."

- From "The Sharp Hint..." by Dashboard Confessional

I guess I can't ever lose trust, and I sure as hell am never going to lose my humanity... Humanity encompassing everything from basic belief to deep love. How the hell could you ever think breaking trust in someone, someone who's so fucking close to you was not a big deal... Why has trust lost so much of it's fucking value? Was I not fucking enough? Was breaking my heart twice not enough?

"Well as for now, I'm gonna hear the saddest songs,
Sit alone and wonder,
How you're making out,
And as for me I wish that I was anywhere,
With Anyone,
Making out...

- From "Screaming Infidelities" by Dashboard Confessional

I'm learning to keep the pain away, stored tight and locked away in a dark part of my soul... I've learned to numb it till I can talk about in ways such as this, indirect and prosaic... Until it bursts at the seams, and I can't help that... Bur these memories are killing me... memories good and memories bad... I wish I was talking to somebody now... I need to be talking to somebody... I need to talk to somebody who gives a shit... I need to stop staring at this fucking computer screen long enough to begin appreciating the darkness outside... Why appreciate that darkness? because it's so much lighter than what's going on inside of me... I need to stop moping about, stop listening to Dashboard and start getting my life in order... But I won't... It's so much fucking easier to just pity myself... I would get drunk, but I don't drink, so that brilliant idea is shot to hell... I think I'll just sit on the cold floor, stare out onto the street illuminated by a single street lamp, fold my arms and ponder my fucking question - 'Was I not fucking enough for her?'.

And you know what the worst bit is? She's going to read this, and I don't give a fuck... what a contrast to the other post...

"Wandering the house
Like I've never wanted out
And this is about
As social as I get now.
And I'm throwing away
The letters that I am writing you
'cause they would never do,
I would never do."

- from "Saints and Sailors" by Dashboard Confessional

* Some of you might have noticed that I removed this post a couple of days ago... I guess it's all past me now, and I just wanted to put it back for some reason... Closure maybe...

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The Spotlight (Featuring Divya)

This is something that my girlfriend wrote... and I "get" it :) So I thought I'd put it up...

"i stand here facing life
you're standing beside me
so long, i've walked alone
so long i've walked in darkness
you showed me how to live
you showed me light
finally, i'm free
free from my past
i see
clearly into the future
i can conquer the world
i can conquer reality
dreams i've dreamt
real or fake
it doesn't matter anymore
you're by my side
i feel strong. i can walk tall
you make me feel blessed
you're my angel,your my life
you dragged me back from hell
you chased away my tears and pain
what would i do without you??
i wish you could be there for me always
i wish i could be there for you always
but thats an impossible wish
love me always and forever
love me for eternity
i am selfish only when it comes to your love
i am yours,will always be
don't ever doubt that
i will be waiting....... always!!"

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Why does life find it prudent to come about and bite me in the ass at the oddest of times?

I used to get bullied a hell of a lot... I'm not just talking about your emotional schoolyard bullying... I'm talking about seniors making us run at 3 in the morning and beating us with hockey sticks... But I don't regret any of that... It taught me a hell of a lot, and it made me grow up a hell of a lot faster than I would've.... Still, this blog is not about that... I'm not looking for rivers of tears... It's something else entirely

It's something to do with 'schoolyard' bullying.. No, I'm not complaining about that either... I've had that all my life and I'm so used to it now... I can, and I do, take verbal bullying quite well... I simply quit responding to the person who's doing it... Yeah, pretty amazing that I let myself get bullied... honestly, I just can't be bothered to respond... whatever else I may be, I am not one to stand up and make it stop... because all I say is "It's really not that bad..." or "Why bother?"... I will stand up for anybody else, and I would die for some... but myself is just not worth it...

And really... it doesn't matter... I'm not affected, no one else is either, and we're not talking about that because that's not what this blog is about...

This blog is about me... as a bully... Yeah, after all the stuff that's happened, I still somehow manage to make someone else's life a wee bit crappier. I realized this some time ago, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it... I can't even talk about it because talking about it makes you accept it, and there is no way in hell I'm going to admit that in 17 years... this is a part of me...

And I can't seem to stop the cycle... It scares me how I have no control over it.. It's like so much repression is suddenly finding voice... I can't help but think I'm emptying my frustration through this, and that scares me... When the hell did I ever get to this stage.. when the hell did I start feeling like bullying others was vindication? When did I start being vindictive? I certainly can't figure that one out...

Bullies are the lowest creatures on the face of the planet... along the lines of vermin and crap... I am not going to be vermin and crap... I'm going to be human... I wanna... I'm going to try like hell... And I'm going to apologize... That might just be one of the hardest things I've ever done... God I hope I can go through with this... I have to...

This helped...

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As ISP's go

Tiscali is quite possibly the most terrible service provider... In the world. And I'm including Sify Broadband (If you've never heard of it, concentrate on keeping it that way)... Who takes 20 days for reconnecting broadband to a new address? Why should I even bother paying the broadband bill when they aren't providing me internet for half that month? And the lady doesn't even care why I'm cancelling my account. Oh, yeah... so we cancelled... You're lucky if you haven't heard of Tiscali either. I've gotta sit on the college internet for two weeks...

Oh, and I pity you if you have a BT line. Because I pity myself... because they muddled up our line change yet again. And when you have a problem with BT... you find something that keeps you sufficiently distracted... such as driving from London to Edinburgh... and they just might finish putting you on hold when you come back... they might...

My first call is in a queue for 42 minutes before someone picks up and hangs up... Yes... FORTY TWO minutes... The second call is picked up in about half an hour and the lady picks up, takes my postcode, and puts me on hold for another 7 minutes. This is really how long they were taking.

For the record, I've written about 8 pages of assignments (12 point, no pictures) while I was holding and I can estimate the age of the recorded voice hold lady... ah, yes, achievements...

And don't even get me started on Dial-a-Phone... They need to be threatened with legal action and big words before they start noticing their inbox... and before you order from them... May i remind you that although they have a telephone number for sales, they simply do not have a telephone number for customer service... I'm just saying...

I wonder if I should have written this to the OFT... they might have been more interested...

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Leggo my Lego!

Okay, so that title is a bit old...

So is Lego. And old things are sometimes the best. It's just been there all these years, serving to give expression to the imaginations of everyone from 5 to about a 100 years old. I don't know anything about Lego apart from the fact that it is plastic, it is sometimes decorated (although my first Lego wasn't, I was left to decorate it with a black marker) and if you have any talent, you can create projects that would put the Petronas Towers to shame.

I remember my first ever Lego set. Sadly it never gave me the "just out of the box" feeling that is the reason most companies make so much money off parents of little children. There is no way I will ever allow any future children or grandchildren to waste their time with the all new "Shrek Magical (erm... shiny) Card and Button set". How can anyone not see that that is an utter waste of time?

So anyway, my first Lego set... It was supposed to be some sort of a helicopter and its base set. I'm still a little confused as to what happened to the cockpit. It was my brother's and he had it before I was born (I THINK... I might have just been at that age where little babies are fascinated by little things that can fit down their oesophagus without hindrance). We (Me and my brother) used to convert the floor of my room into a city by drawing chalk lines (which I had to clean up most of the time) across the floor to mark out the roads, junctions, pavements and an air base (I dunno if you get what I'm talking about, an airbase in India is usually a complete complex, with it's own shops, houses, economy, association, runway, hangars and airplanes). Then there'd be the building the walls and gates with Lego. I botched up the gate decoration everytime with things like, "Do Not Enter, You Will be SHOT"... But anyway, that's a different story. I would have put a picture, but the Lego is locked away in a box. Yes, I plan on keeping it forever.

Then there'd be the toy cars that would always be responding to some emergency call or the other. We didn't have any terrorists back then (Well, okay, I didn't know about them), so the only people who could attack us was the Cobra team. Sadly I didn't get my Skystriker until a few years later, and then it was too late. Hot wheels was a luxury in those days, actually anything Mattel was a luxury. So even though I never had one complete set of toys, and the gate to the airbase was a stick compared to the car, I couldn't have asked for a happier childhood. I wish children now could discover some of the things that I discovered and actually imagine instead of waiting for a Nintendo Wii to imagine it for them. Entire worlds can be created and destroyed at will.

Ah, the good old days... I hate growing up...

Crap... I really should be working on "meeting my deadline"... Funny the learning center lady hasn't logged me off the network yet... If you're reading this... you're the most awesome learning center lady ever... :)

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Lift Me Up

It seems so miraculous that the world is still here... Not the revolving and rotating bit (well, maybe that too), but that it still works, the formula, for most part.

I open up my RSS news feed... Violence, politics, lying and cheating. Oh, and sports... Right.. Who cares? Apart from sports, most of what I can see is some sort of crisis.

The darker side of Today's Headlines (BBC):

  • Dozens die in Kenyan riots
  • Guyana shooting rampage kills 11
  • Seven killed in Beirut Violence
  • Trader 'staked 50bn euros'
  • Pakistan 'seizes back key tunnel'
  • UK tycoon 'arrested in Zimbabwe'
And the list goes on...

When does it stop? This does not include what happened yesterday at the Egyptian border... It does not include the heartless murder of Benazir Bhutto (no opinions please... I really don't care)... It does not include the ongoing trial of a man who killed four prostitutes in London...

When did we become so tolerant of it all? When did we learn to start expecting less stories of wonder and more of gore from almost everywhere. Okay, so the media is sensational, but they can only be so sensational... When did we start looking upon terrorism as an everyday activity? Why are our souls so hardened that we do not flinch nor do we utter sympathy at what we see around us... EVERYDAY... Even the cinema seems quite suggestive... "I am Legend" (Kindly ignore the fact that Hollywood seems to have a thing for terrible grammar), "Cloverfield"... Hip hop... what're they 'singing' about? "Shooting this, hitting that... 'bitches, hoes'... big screen TVs and 'bling'..."

Maybe it's just me but I have a feeling of an impending doom... like the calm before a storm... The air is just crackling with the excitement of disaster... Everything is so energised... Everything is going so fast, gathering velocity and all we do is stand helpless... The curtains seems ready to fall...

People is where it all begins... There is a change upon us.... Not a good one... Everything around is so disintegrated and disorganised... so full of something... something that has to be love, but is far from it... This divide is not just between people with differences... It is between everybody... Religion is not going to save you... It hasn't saved anything in a very long time, and is proving to divide rather than teaching humanity and kindness...

I must sound like a preacher but that is most certainly not what I am doing. Our hearts are closed, and slowly our minds are following suit... I hate to think of the future of "Us"... Human beings... So smart, so intelligent... Yet so utterly stupid... We are humans but we are lacking so much of what makes us that... We are lacking humanity... We need a return to innocence... We need salvation... but we're looking in the wrong place...

I'm sorry... there is just so much about this running through me that I've lost some of what I originally wrote this to say... But you're smart... Let your thoughts go... Open your eyes... Open your hearts out to the world... while it's safe to do so...

'What will you find behind the door that is One Door Away From Heaven?' - From The Book


The book was excellent... I won't say anything more, because saying anything more is giving it away, and I should let you get through it alone... Pick one up... but please don't read a review before you read the book... "One Door Away From Heaven" - Dean Koontz... As for the writer... I'm pretty much hooked onto everything he writes... I've read five of his books in a month and a half...

@ Noelia - The book is completely different.. So I can't say if it's better or worse than Life Expectancy... but if you like that, then I'm very sure you'll like this... It's thought provoking and exciting... Lots of twists and dozens of ideas... One thing's for certain thought... he has an amazing sense of humor...

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Bioethicism = Satanism

I've been reading this Dean Koontz book, titled "One Door Away From Heaven". It's quite a good book so far, not one of my favorites, but still... I'll let you know how that goes...

Anyway, so one of the characters, and a few of the other minor roles are "Bioethicists"... Bioethicism is quite simply the philosophy that if someone is weak (i.e. above the age of 60, disabled, or chronically ill), they should be killed to make place on the earth for healthier people. Outrageous? Not really according to major universities offering a degree in bioethics. It's funny they should call it 'bioethics'... I don't see what can ever be remotely ethical about such a philosophy.

It's actually quite surprising to see that this new science is progressing at all. Makes me wonder about the kind of people we have become. Hitler was probably a visionary by the standards of these people. You really can't believe this can you?

Copy of Washington Times Report

Extract from 'One Door Away From Heaven' - Dean Koontz (ISBN 0-7472-6681-6)

"Incredulous, Micky read that nearly all bioethicists believed disabled infants, even those mildly disabled, should be neglected until they died. If the babies developed an infection, they should not be treated. If they developed temporary respiratory problems, breathing should not be assisted; they should suffocate."

Extract from 'Practical Ethics' - Peter Singer (ISBN 13-978-0521439718)

"When the death of a disabled infant will lead to the birth of another infant with better prospects of a happy life, the total amount of happiness will be greater if the disabled infant is killed. The loss of the happy life for the first infant is outweighed by the gain of a happier life for the second. Therefore, if the killing of the hemophiliac infant has no adverse effect on others it would be... right to kill him"

Is this what the world has come to? This guy talks of people like they're machines. He talks about happiness, as a bloody quantity. Look at that... "amount of happiness"... Why doesn't someone just kill him, he's obviously depressing a lot of people.

What we're talking here is the bloody euthanisation of human beings. The only reason animals are euthanised is when they're in constant pain that cannot be cured. I would love to be euthanised if I was in constant pain and I wasn't able to do anything else with my life, but that doesn't mean everyone thinks the same way. Moreover, nobody is expendable... nobody can be sacrificed and especially not because they fall ill.

Not all bioethics is involved with this "moral" science of killing people. But most bioethicists support 'positive suicide counselling'. Incredibly, this means that if you were feeling just a bit suicidal, people like Peter Singer would have you go to a suicide camp, where somebody would give you a million reasons to kill yourself. Yes, assisted suicide. This horseshit is a danger to not only the disabled, but also everyone who lives and breathes, because what are the chances you won't fall ill? Would you really want to live your life in fear of the ethics committee of a hospital "offing" you because this was your second visit in a month? I sure as hell wouldn't. Whatever happened to being a doctor for the sake of saving lives? Whatever happened to attempting to treat every single person who came through your door and not giving a shit what anyone told you?

If this goes much further, I feel an apocalypse coming on... And also something along the lines of "illegal doctoring"... Treating patients becomes illegal... Think of the consequences. In a million years, have we progressed nothing more than a few steps backward to heartless mindless murder? Have we come to look at each other as bits of flesh and bone and nothing else?

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Hello... Sorry I haven't been around for a bit... I've been busy with some stuff... but most of the time I'm telling myself that I'm too tired to do anything, sitting in front of the computer or TV and whiling my time away.

And I've been packing... I can't wait to move... We've renting a new place about 3 miles away from here, and I can't wait because of this house... it's landlord... and lots of other things... Have you ever felt like, I dunno, the house you're living in currently will never be "home"? Well, that's only gonna happen to you if you move around a hell of a lot and you actually do develop tastes in houses. Tastes in houses... I must be incredibly rich to have developed a taste in houses... Well my room is almost done... and I've still got a week and a half to go... Packing usually evokes strong memories in me... But now I've got nothing to stuff away into my shoebox, no memories in this house to cherish... blah...

So, the new house is just amazing... It's got everything I ever wanted... and then it has a full length window in my room... It's a little out of the way, I guess, but hell, I'd trade comfort for connection any day.

And I've been listening to a lot of music, and Simone White is really good. You might remember her from the Audi R8 Advertisement. But she's got some really good tunes... they're all easy going and sort of, fit, but not exactly.. you'd have to listen to see... ... I recommend "American War"...

Why does everyone have a word verification thing before I can leave a comment? I don't and I'm still not getting spammed... I saved you two seconds of your life and questions about the reliability of your eyesight... Start a revolution...

I wish they'd come out with the new Heroes...

I'm hungry...

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No one...

No one understands... life comes to a standstill... i'm starting to lose it... i'm pretending on the outside and putting on a big smile... I lie to people who ask me how I'm doing.... "You sound down... What happened?"... "Nothing... this is how I usually sound... it's my cool depressed person voice"...

But inside it's all a big fucking lie... I hate myself... i don't even know what's wrong with me... and life has stopped... it's just stopped... I don't know why I bother living... No, this isn't suicidal... and this isn't extreme depression... I'm happy... life isn't that bad... I have everything i need... which is why I can still pretend.... My life is filled with too many goddamn maybes... there's a shadow over my face and over my mind... I know this because I don't feel like doing much anymore... I don't even feel like writing.. and I always feel like writing... No one gets it... Because I don't get it.. and it's worse when they assume that they get it... I'm so fucked in the head... But no... i'm not... I'm happy... I've got everything I need in my life... I still feel like banging my head against the wall till i start bleeding or die... What's the point in living... have you ever pondered that? the point of living? you should... the entire world is a farce... pretense is widespread... i spread this message of the world being crappy so make me a fucking messiah... fuck political correctness.... fuck being proper... fuck being strong when i don't feel strong and i feel so fucking weak... fuck sympathy... i don't want your pity... i just want somebody to hear me out... but i'm never going to tell you my problem.. i'd be so fucking happy if i ever figured out what it was...

No one understands... No one bothers... I'm today's problem... maybe i'll be tomorrow's problem... but not after that.... ignorance has an effect... it's called repression... and repression serves a lot of purposes... become completely independent, completely boxing in your feelings and you'll be an enigma... you'll be the strongest person in the world... but then you'll be the weakest... So i'm still gonna lie... I'm still gonna say, "Hey, I am A-OK.... " and i don't ever want anyone to question that... Independence is good... It helps.. really... and life will go on... people will forget... the earth will revolve.. i'll get older... i'll forget... and there are six other people saying the exact same thing... it has to be true right...

No one ever cares... I don't care either... About them... "Them" caring is probably just going to piss me off... I'm not a chicken soup for the soul story waiting to happen... because I don't have any problems... Not tomorrow... everything will be fine tomorrow...


Free writing... Whatever came to my mind... Ah... feels good... I don't care if you don't like it...

Oh, and if you know me, and you've read this... I don't wanna talk about it... I don't want your sympathy... I'm not a misunderstood little kid...

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