I stare hard at the keyboard hoping that the sight might lead to a flutter somewhere in my head and hence words take the form of what i possibly want to express. I can imagine myself sitting in front of a typewriter and staring at that elegant machine, but even that wouldn't help much.
I should make a note to myself to devise a more pleasant way to kickstart articulation than just rambling on for a while before coming to the point. I think it is the warm night or maybe this summer weather altogether which makes me think a little bit harder before writing anything.
I remember all summers so clearly that i can conjure up the taste of anything i must have eaten or drunk. I can smell the summer of my teenage years i can still see the heat in the air during the summer of my early 20's. It is all so familiarly delectable that i could just masticate on the memories for a long time. I must admit that after all that i still am a big fan of winters , especially the chilly ones.
Tonight is yet another of those summer nights, leaving another taste to reminisce about. "Money" is playing in the background and i am sitting protected from the heat by an air conditioner's breeze, chilly breeze. The gust of air sporadically disturbs the ends of my hair, which every now and then fall to my face creating an illusion of motion. Maybe i see my hair move and that is how i remember myself moving...with the strands around me in motion. To cut the story short, its a nice feeling.
I can also see strands of another kind surrounding me and that too gives me a sense of motion and direction. If i focus long enough i can see that the strands are actually ribbons and of many different colors. In this ocular delight i am struck by many messages on these strands. Some strands are binding and some are just without any ends. Some are quite red in color and some are very blue. Some are just plain old strands of hair.
What is this motion that i keep on sensing ? Certainly, it is not the passage of time in life as this motion was absent earlier. It also cannot be the changing distances between all that i know as those things come in neat little boxes with labels on them saying " X has changed wrt Y". What are these new strands ?
I experimented with these strands , trying to find whether i am entangled in them or not. It turns out that i am not at all entangled. The whole plumage of strands sat there like a vehicle unnerved by my abrupt exit. It is certain that those things are my own creations ,voluntary or involuntary.
I touched one of the ribbons and it sent a brutal shock , a shock straight to the thinking mind. It filled me up with a sense of urgency in action. I dared to touch another and this time it sent me to day dream. Are these things extensions or even garbage of my experiment with the thought process ?
I also discovered the strange power that these strands or ribbons exert on me when i am within them. I also look at things a little differently when i am inside this ball of sublime yet seriously ominous ribbons. Maybe it is same as looking at a keyboard and fearing how the start shall present itself or in more simple terms anxiety/ fear etc but it is far from this as i also see a prognostic diagnosis of what may lie ahead, results of which are quite alluring.
As i sit here and type out, another gush of cold wind blows the ribbons away from my vision and i see it all. I see what have written and how it may all seem.
It is all so pretty from here.
- "Young Days"
Forlorn Farceur's Diary
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sunday, December 07, 2008
A street lamp..
Clear sunny day, winter morning, why are you still under that street lamp ?
" In preparation for the night, you see " said he.
I see, but why do you have that hammer ?
"To quash the bugs at night , they annoy me a lot"
But what do you do at night under that lamp ?
"Why , i read of course !"
What are you reading , if neither a book nor a paper do i surmise ?
"You are right my dear friend, sometimes i really do miss reading books and papers, but you know it not just those things that i read."
Please, don't let me interrupt you.
"I would not encourage me if i were you but if you really are interested i could show you.."
My good man, how can you show me what you see when i can not, i must remind you of my condition more often so that i am not made fun of.
"Come now, sit here with me. Read with me , one sense is enough to read. Its getting dark, it will start soon."
There is no light soon, people carry on with their lives unaware of the two people reading them. Unaware are the two people who read them that they are also in vain. The street lamp attracts both kind without any bias. Animals and insects alike crave this light.
Illumination is what they seek , both sides are equally adamant of the others futility. I refer of course to the side under the light and the one surrounding it.
I sense that there is someone watching us. Do you think so too ?
"None that i can see, but i am limited to the circle of light i could be wrong. "
I am sure of it ! He could be the one to set all this up. Amusing himself. How i'd love to be him.
"Then lets look for his company, maybe he can help me read better"
The two souls disembark for their journey, they are looking for me. Ironically i came out here looking for them in particular. One of them is a human other is not. It is remarkable how two different species can talk to each other.
I will let them look for me, and when they do find me, the truth shall be revealed.
" In preparation for the night, you see " said he.
I see, but why do you have that hammer ?
"To quash the bugs at night , they annoy me a lot"
But what do you do at night under that lamp ?
"Why , i read of course !"
What are you reading , if neither a book nor a paper do i surmise ?
"You are right my dear friend, sometimes i really do miss reading books and papers, but you know it not just those things that i read."
Please, don't let me interrupt you.
"I would not encourage me if i were you but if you really are interested i could show you.."
My good man, how can you show me what you see when i can not, i must remind you of my condition more often so that i am not made fun of.
"Come now, sit here with me. Read with me , one sense is enough to read. Its getting dark, it will start soon."
There is no light soon, people carry on with their lives unaware of the two people reading them. Unaware are the two people who read them that they are also in vain. The street lamp attracts both kind without any bias. Animals and insects alike crave this light.
Illumination is what they seek , both sides are equally adamant of the others futility. I refer of course to the side under the light and the one surrounding it.
I sense that there is someone watching us. Do you think so too ?
"None that i can see, but i am limited to the circle of light i could be wrong. "
I am sure of it ! He could be the one to set all this up. Amusing himself. How i'd love to be him.
"Then lets look for his company, maybe he can help me read better"
The two souls disembark for their journey, they are looking for me. Ironically i came out here looking for them in particular. One of them is a human other is not. It is remarkable how two different species can talk to each other.
I will let them look for me, and when they do find me, the truth shall be revealed.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Hardest substance known to man ?
Nothing.
She looks at me pretending to understand what i have just said. He on the other hand is too quick to latch on to it, probably the naive are who should inherit the earth. As he looks at me for an approving glance i wanted to drift off to blankness while knowing that this very action isn't possible. I try to challenge and break various systems i have worked so hard to put in place. Waiting , salivating, even hunting for their downfall ever so dearly, but usually resulting in disappointment. How delicious would it be to violently denounce the safety of my thoughts which go from one system to another , like a mental assembly line, all conforming to procedures and standards. Laughing at just what happened, i realised the limits of how far and long i could drift off while keeping him anticipating. He would probably understand my anxiety but probably not the context. I decide to approve his knowing glance in milliseconds worth of a nod and a cornered look in the eye.
He unknowingly deserved it, while she , she on the other hand was too busy trying to fit my answer into her own framework, evaluating, feeling, debating even weeping the topic to submission by relentless arguments. Thats how she was brought up,full of conflicts, her need to decide a winner and a looser , her indisposition to let anything go without pitching in every ounce of her strength. A true fighter.
A true fighter, as i recall, is one who secures himself from defeat. It is defeat that the fighter fights and hence creates another enemy. This clearly isn't a trait of strength. Creating enemies can never be a good idea, probability of being defeated just increases. What an irony ? the fighter traps himself in the notion of victory and hence the perpetuity of fighting. Maybe thats the infinity which keeps their thoughts together, and maybe thats the goal in itself. People call fear as an enemy whereas its merely an agent of action, i believe. So you see why i find her fear, conflict and determination to fight a bit dissappointing. I also see courage, but that is only in sufficient quantities to let her fight and of reactionary nature, rather than a controllable force.
Sun Tzu hence advocates selective ....
"So, you don't think there is any limit to man's thinking ?"...she interrupts me.
"Its very easy for us to put a superlative to adjectives, while we forget that it is easier still to classify and breakdown things. "
"What do you mean ? Are you implying that just because we can break down anything to elemental indiscriminate units then there is just no need for a superlative ?"...she quips and then whimpers down to muteness after a quick look at my face.
I smile, "Partly, yes, that is one of my squabbles with such line of thought. However , it should be understood that it is us who have given birth to all such qualities ,ideas and comparisons. So, firstly inventing such notions and then dancing around them and then pledging you allegiance is what i am against in the least."
"If it is freedom that you advocate so much , and are passionate about then why do you have us here. restricted ? " The boy quickly comes to the point. Naivete never fails to perform, it is he single most powerful mode of progress. His eyes seem like as if he has just seen light at the end of the tunnel, he emanates the confidence of a spearhead, if only it were in the right direction. The woman snickers , indicating superiority in her understanding of me. It is too much to resist for me.
I let the boy out of his cuffs, without speaking a word. Those few seconds of disbelief changing to hatred and then to anger left wrinkles on her face that left a lasting impression in my brain. This is what you expect to see in the eyes copernicus for galileo had they faced unraveling of truth together.
" Don't worry, if you die he dies too " i tease her, and the boy. " What i am trying to do here is use reductio ad absurdum and illustrate a point. Freedom is what i advocated and lets see how absurd it is a posession for you. Go ahead and leave...do what you have done till now, and reflect on why you are here in the first place. " I turn to the woman and let her up gently by her shaking elbow. She is confused, i wanted to tell how horrible deeds lead to horrible ends but decided to give it time.Both of them run out of the room, out in the open, free.
I trained both of them to be free, but failed. They were students of revolution and were hopes of many. People call us by various It should be best if no more harm comes because of me and them. They are dangerous, and treat freedom as a superlative. That in itself shouln't be allowed.
What i promised them is what i would uphold, freedom for us.
Sometimes the diamonds are too easy to break.
She looks at me pretending to understand what i have just said. He on the other hand is too quick to latch on to it, probably the naive are who should inherit the earth. As he looks at me for an approving glance i wanted to drift off to blankness while knowing that this very action isn't possible. I try to challenge and break various systems i have worked so hard to put in place. Waiting , salivating, even hunting for their downfall ever so dearly, but usually resulting in disappointment. How delicious would it be to violently denounce the safety of my thoughts which go from one system to another , like a mental assembly line, all conforming to procedures and standards. Laughing at just what happened, i realised the limits of how far and long i could drift off while keeping him anticipating. He would probably understand my anxiety but probably not the context. I decide to approve his knowing glance in milliseconds worth of a nod and a cornered look in the eye.
He unknowingly deserved it, while she , she on the other hand was too busy trying to fit my answer into her own framework, evaluating, feeling, debating even weeping the topic to submission by relentless arguments. Thats how she was brought up,full of conflicts, her need to decide a winner and a looser , her indisposition to let anything go without pitching in every ounce of her strength. A true fighter.
A true fighter, as i recall, is one who secures himself from defeat. It is defeat that the fighter fights and hence creates another enemy. This clearly isn't a trait of strength. Creating enemies can never be a good idea, probability of being defeated just increases. What an irony ? the fighter traps himself in the notion of victory and hence the perpetuity of fighting. Maybe thats the infinity which keeps their thoughts together, and maybe thats the goal in itself. People call fear as an enemy whereas its merely an agent of action, i believe. So you see why i find her fear, conflict and determination to fight a bit dissappointing. I also see courage, but that is only in sufficient quantities to let her fight and of reactionary nature, rather than a controllable force.
Sun Tzu hence advocates selective ....
"So, you don't think there is any limit to man's thinking ?"...she interrupts me.
"Its very easy for us to put a superlative to adjectives, while we forget that it is easier still to classify and breakdown things. "
"What do you mean ? Are you implying that just because we can break down anything to elemental indiscriminate units then there is just no need for a superlative ?"...she quips and then whimpers down to muteness after a quick look at my face.
I smile, "Partly, yes, that is one of my squabbles with such line of thought. However , it should be understood that it is us who have given birth to all such qualities ,ideas and comparisons. So, firstly inventing such notions and then dancing around them and then pledging you allegiance is what i am against in the least."
"If it is freedom that you advocate so much , and are passionate about then why do you have us here. restricted ? " The boy quickly comes to the point. Naivete never fails to perform, it is he single most powerful mode of progress. His eyes seem like as if he has just seen light at the end of the tunnel, he emanates the confidence of a spearhead, if only it were in the right direction. The woman snickers , indicating superiority in her understanding of me. It is too much to resist for me.
I let the boy out of his cuffs, without speaking a word. Those few seconds of disbelief changing to hatred and then to anger left wrinkles on her face that left a lasting impression in my brain. This is what you expect to see in the eyes copernicus for galileo had they faced unraveling of truth together.
" Don't worry, if you die he dies too " i tease her, and the boy. " What i am trying to do here is use reductio ad absurdum and illustrate a point. Freedom is what i advocated and lets see how absurd it is a posession for you. Go ahead and leave...do what you have done till now, and reflect on why you are here in the first place. " I turn to the woman and let her up gently by her shaking elbow. She is confused, i wanted to tell how horrible deeds lead to horrible ends but decided to give it time.Both of them run out of the room, out in the open, free.
I trained both of them to be free, but failed. They were students of revolution and were hopes of many. People call us by various It should be best if no more harm comes because of me and them. They are dangerous, and treat freedom as a superlative. That in itself shouln't be allowed.
What i promised them is what i would uphold, freedom for us.
Sometimes the diamonds are too easy to break.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
a drop
Flow of masses,
tricking about the edges of shades.
Like a raining day,
when you are stuck under a tin roof.
You look at the edges and wonder,
would it have been better to be a drop in the rain or the likes under the tin,
watching the trickling masses fall ?
tricking about the edges of shades.
Like a raining day,
when you are stuck under a tin roof.
You look at the edges and wonder,
would it have been better to be a drop in the rain or the likes under the tin,
watching the trickling masses fall ?
Saturday, February 09, 2008
This one goes to frequent visitors....
As a travel diary of forlorn farceur you get a weird sense of possessiveness over the man, which makes you see the obvious truth ! you aren't alone..
He brought me along with his seaside excursions last week and the pen bled more black ink onto my pages[actually the keyboard, forgive my exaggeration].
I am the blog called "myxynia.blogspot.com" Let me narrate to you one of my versions of things instead of what he usually writes. Its mostly when others slumber or are in passive modes when he logs in and types in the fictitious stories he is very good at. The writings are usually accompanied by simultaneous play of songs which like his thoughts are more of waves on a dry beach. On one occasions or two, i think i sensed that he can read my thoughts just like i do.... maybe it has to do something with the inebriated states of thoughts that we both share at the moments of precipice. Please excuse me for my exuberance but how often does a blog get to express itself ?
"the great gig in the sky" was the song which rang till it died out in my ears, the melancholy tunes and the tenors still make me cringe now when i think of how and what he wrote. He was on a vacation trip and what more could he have asked for than the jolt to his state of marooned consciousness than a sight of desperation ?
Here is his version :
"As i walked besides the crimson reflections of the sky and thoughts, a precise high pitch dissent of a woman invaded our tranquility. The shore was agitated and lashed out a whiff of mist accompanied by bigger drops of water,thus expressing by landing bunch small futile splashes on the two figurines in distance from me.It could have been my imagination as well. I on the other hand could either watch them or continue my walk and thinking about them. I decided to watch.
Both of them were quite agitated, if not on their own then the whiplashes of the waves at this high tide. Hands in the air and pointing to a particular place beyond the beach. Could this be a feud which just ensued either of their spotting the other ? or is this an older issue which just took one of them by surprise ?
One pushed the other and i saw the other falling down...
Clearly a matter of conflicting interests, but what exactly ? The one who pushed now repents, the figure slowly changes posture to a defensive and retiring one. I thought both were women by the voices. They were indeed so as i saw two women in water sitting and contemplating. The figure who pushed the other, suddenly got aware of my presence. She lunged away from the fallen girl (now i could see , she was just a kid). She ran ...and not looking back ... i could understand she wanted to look back but just couldn't.
That was how i officially got into the business of these people. Should i have shown interest ?
if i ask my friends they'll tell me all possible angles of it....and choose the safest alternative of being aloof. Thats how the world thinks !!!
They call it taking a "risk" ! ...
Now even if i tell you stories of so many people taking great risks and becoming known for that, you'll just revert back to being nonchalance , the very logical choice.
Was my choice to walk on the correct one ?
"
Let me totally call this guys bluff here ! he wasn't really "just" watching, he really knew very well what was going on there...
To be really frank every one of you would have understood what went on.. but the only way you'll present these facts is by distancing and putting some more fancy words to justify yourself. To be a third person is to be really blessed, i understand this...but to beg your pardon, this is the first bloody time i got to speak at all !
What friggin interest of yours would it have served to be ever so complex about everything you express ? I ask this of Mr. Hallowed FF..
Complacency gets a real promotion when you get older...its sometimes called being careful..or even "mature". You tend to think long term only on those incidents when you could put your arse on the line and help anyone else apart from your own. Why is this wisdom so appreciated ?.
Forlorn Farceur doesn't really fit into my anger framework very well.... you would know soon, why not.
"... i took my own time in taking a good look at the scene and continued my walk after a bit of watching. Man ! i thought, Heisenberg wasn't kidding when he wrote that thing... i should commend a job well done, maybe by recommending him to Avinyora.
The sky turned blue jeans from the scowling orange....it might be just my guilt. The next morning was just more dense, i couldn't help judging myself on my behaviour last evening. I clearly saw the look in the eyes of the fleeting one, had i been any younger, the eyes could have bored right through...but not me....not now...not on this trip of mine.
What could i have done ? ... i just didn't know... "
I know what happened after that.. our lord FF went over plainly to the same shore at around the same time waiting. And when she appeared again, he just smiled.....
He brought me along with his seaside excursions last week and the pen bled more black ink onto my pages[actually the keyboard, forgive my exaggeration].
I am the blog called "myxynia.blogspot.com" Let me narrate to you one of my versions of things instead of what he usually writes. Its mostly when others slumber or are in passive modes when he logs in and types in the fictitious stories he is very good at. The writings are usually accompanied by simultaneous play of songs which like his thoughts are more of waves on a dry beach. On one occasions or two, i think i sensed that he can read my thoughts just like i do.... maybe it has to do something with the inebriated states of thoughts that we both share at the moments of precipice. Please excuse me for my exuberance but how often does a blog get to express itself ?
"the great gig in the sky" was the song which rang till it died out in my ears, the melancholy tunes and the tenors still make me cringe now when i think of how and what he wrote. He was on a vacation trip and what more could he have asked for than the jolt to his state of marooned consciousness than a sight of desperation ?
Here is his version :
"As i walked besides the crimson reflections of the sky and thoughts, a precise high pitch dissent of a woman invaded our tranquility. The shore was agitated and lashed out a whiff of mist accompanied by bigger drops of water,thus expressing by landing bunch small futile splashes on the two figurines in distance from me.It could have been my imagination as well. I on the other hand could either watch them or continue my walk and thinking about them. I decided to watch.
Both of them were quite agitated, if not on their own then the whiplashes of the waves at this high tide. Hands in the air and pointing to a particular place beyond the beach. Could this be a feud which just ensued either of their spotting the other ? or is this an older issue which just took one of them by surprise ?
One pushed the other and i saw the other falling down...
Clearly a matter of conflicting interests, but what exactly ? The one who pushed now repents, the figure slowly changes posture to a defensive and retiring one. I thought both were women by the voices. They were indeed so as i saw two women in water sitting and contemplating. The figure who pushed the other, suddenly got aware of my presence. She lunged away from the fallen girl (now i could see , she was just a kid). She ran ...and not looking back ... i could understand she wanted to look back but just couldn't.
That was how i officially got into the business of these people. Should i have shown interest ?
if i ask my friends they'll tell me all possible angles of it....and choose the safest alternative of being aloof. Thats how the world thinks !!!
They call it taking a "risk" ! ...
Now even if i tell you stories of so many people taking great risks and becoming known for that, you'll just revert back to being nonchalance , the very logical choice.
Was my choice to walk on the correct one ?
"
Let me totally call this guys bluff here ! he wasn't really "just" watching, he really knew very well what was going on there...
To be really frank every one of you would have understood what went on.. but the only way you'll present these facts is by distancing and putting some more fancy words to justify yourself. To be a third person is to be really blessed, i understand this...but to beg your pardon, this is the first bloody time i got to speak at all !
What friggin interest of yours would it have served to be ever so complex about everything you express ? I ask this of Mr. Hallowed FF..
Complacency gets a real promotion when you get older...its sometimes called being careful..or even "mature". You tend to think long term only on those incidents when you could put your arse on the line and help anyone else apart from your own. Why is this wisdom so appreciated ?.
Forlorn Farceur doesn't really fit into my anger framework very well.... you would know soon, why not.
"... i took my own time in taking a good look at the scene and continued my walk after a bit of watching. Man ! i thought, Heisenberg wasn't kidding when he wrote that thing... i should commend a job well done, maybe by recommending him to Avinyora.
The sky turned blue jeans from the scowling orange....it might be just my guilt. The next morning was just more dense, i couldn't help judging myself on my behaviour last evening. I clearly saw the look in the eyes of the fleeting one, had i been any younger, the eyes could have bored right through...but not me....not now...not on this trip of mine.
What could i have done ? ... i just didn't know... "
I know what happened after that.. our lord FF went over plainly to the same shore at around the same time waiting. And when she appeared again, he just smiled.....
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