tagged! by rooj

i am thinking about:

thinking.

i said:

what i shouldn't have.

i want to:

know.

i wish:

to be on stage

i miss:

freaking myself out.

i hear:

die toten hosen :)

i wonder:

if there are any truths.

i regret:

being honest.

i am:

questionable.

i dance:

on my feet

i sing:

when nobody's listening.

i cry:

out loud.

i am not always:

unsure.

i write:

when i'm away from shore

i confuse:

chess with checkers.

i need:

recognition.

i should try:

to stop whining.

i finish:

late.

Ich bin ein Hamburger!

Those are not my words, those are the words of JFK who said the same thing in Frankfurt :p

Anyway, Hamburg was a BLAST. We went there for just one night of clubbing so we were restricted to just one area of clubs, which was fortunately close to the red light district :). I was a complete dick for not being equipped with a camera while touring the Laufhaus and Herbertstrasse. The laufhaus is a 4-storey brothel complete with oriental/middle eastern ambiance, prostitutes wearing lingerie and standing in their room doorways, and fat balding middleaged men with colgate smiles going down the stairs. Herbertstrasse is a loooong street with shops on both sides and prostitutes of all shapes, sizes and ages posing in the windows. This is what window-browsing is all about!!! :p

Some pics from the trip:





Took us ages to open that damned bottle of wine



Tell me that's not a beautiful sunset



I like the horns on that theatre



A club called mini-something. I've forgotten the names cuz we changed so many :)



Those 2 on the left are gone. Andrei and I are actually discussing Norway's economy :)



Me, Marie, Raswind and Sara.



5:30 am: back at the Hamburg central train station. I think I'm happy because I dont particularly enjoy clubbing and we're going back to Bremen. Or maybe its the alcohol :)

Fondue!!

A A friend's birthday party marked my first time with Fondue, one of the few rare species in German cuisine that are favorable to the taste-buds. What happens is, you take a thin long stick, prick a piece of fruit with it, dip it in chocolate sauce made with rum and cream, put it in your mouth, let it melt, and say "mmmmmmmmmmmmm".

My 10 humble IQRA wishes

for once i would like to hear an explanation, no more complex than the theory of relativity, which justifies the existence of cranes(?) on the campus grounds.

for once i would like to come across a "management science" student who can spell the word "c-o-n-s-u-m-e-r"

for once i would like to see that daMNED disco ball in the cafeteria spin.

for once i would like to not see the girls (and some guys) go totally ape over the 'unbelievable' sight of water sprinklers going off in the first half of the year.

for once i would like to see our VC make a visit and inspect something other than the 'gumlas'.

for once i would like to see a guy who doesnt look like his clothes were bought the previous night.

for once i would like to hear some semblance of music being played in the cafeteria.

for once i would like to see people not whine about the fragile nature of their feelings.

for once i would like the "pd" couple to understand that they aren't actually being followed by the paparazzi.

for once i would like to see a trigger-happy-crane-hunter make an appearance.

Poor ol' Senti

I’m not exactly the most expressive person when it comes to feelings. Infact, I am admittedly indifferent. My emotional IQ doesn’t rank with the greatest of the greatest. Hell, some people have even called me cold. But God knows I have an appreciation for life’s little moments. And every once in a while I say nice things to people. But for some reason, whenever its my turn to express an unadulterated emotion, people seem to develop a sudden aversion to anything resembling that poor guy “sentimental.” Recently, a friend of mine brought me a gift. A rather modest one. A day or two ago I made the ‘mistake’ of telling him that I appreciate the gift because of who its coming from, not because of what it is. According to him, that was mushy. Agreed, it was. But why make it sound like I committed a most heinous crime worthy of capital punishment? Perhaps, in those odd flashes when I say the right things, I say them to the wrong people.

I’m not the biggest fan of excessive sentimentality, or ‘mushiness’. When it comes to expressing feelings, my level of competence can at best be compared to Frank Spencer’s (from “Some mothers do ‘ave ‘em”) sharp-shooting skills. Besides, excessive sentimentality is exceedingly bogus, best left in the capable hands of the synthetic populace, I think. But when its rarely expressed, you know its coming straight from the heart. Its meant. And it feels good to hear something nice once in a while. It reminds one of his/her human-ness, keeps it real. Anyone who claims to loathe even the most sparingly expressed sentiment is a liar of the highest possible order. The hypocrisy is self substantiated. I liken it to this girl I knew who had very high standards, and even higher double standards. She refused to shake hands with the male specimen of our species because of its “unislamic” characteristic, but had no problem whatsoever with performing/acting on stage; a virtue of exalted status in Islam (?). Or a friend of mine who rants on about the ideals of socialism but is one of the most promising budding capitalists I have ever come across (If he reads this he’ll decapitate me). Khaaaaiirrr, I’m digressing now.

Why do we fear sentimentality? Is it because it reminds us of who we are? Of our vulnerability? Why not bring the background to the foreground? Atleast once in a while.

Yawn. I’ve managed to bore myself now. See what I mean?

In due time.

Joe Insane

my fingers. my poor aching fingers.

for the past hour or so i've been trying to play 'the lights of heaven' by mr. joe satriani. and failing miserably. this guy is mad. his music is impossible.

i must suck.

Lovin' you unconditionally.....

What the hell does that mean anyway?

Polygon Lover?

If anyone has played Final Fantasy X, they would know the CG sequence where Yuna makes her entry. To think, you can have a slight crush on a graphic (?)....the possibilities are endless.

The Beautiful Ones

Although I myself have had the glorious fortune of coming across these people time and again, the reasons that have triggered me to write this are a friend’s recent forays into the realm of heartburn.

Who are the beautiful ones? The beautiful ones are some of the most despicable life forms that belong to the genus homo sapiens. These people generally appear to be extremely innocent, susceptible, nice, insecure and pretend to be endowed by an IQ not much higher than room temperature. They are anything but some of the most manipulative, catastrophic assholes (sarcasm very intended). Usually, but not necessarily always, a pretty face is part and parcel. Anyhow, they end up doing some serious wrong.

First, they draw you in. How? They give you the wrong cues. Then, they make sure they slowly feed the sudden infatuation that you feel towards them because they know you will question it at first. They mislead and mislead till that tiny spark turns into a monster, and the moment they hear the monster’s initial poundings on its cage, a most disgusting glint takes shape in their irises. The consequent confrontation, which is so anxiously awaited, is then casually met by a “I had no idea. I had no such intentions…”, so on and so forth. O the poor beautiful ones! They were so clueless all along. Everything was unintentional. Afterall, they had no idea. They were always so clueless about your feelings…….. I think I’m gonna puke….

So the question remains, were their actions just a manifestation of confusion or deliberate, calculated manipulation. Either way, you are on a leash now. For a while atleast. And they are gonna enjoy every second of it like hyenas devouring a lion’s leftover dinner. But I truly fail to see the point of this drama. What possible utility can it serve in satisfying one’s vanity? Why not go and beat up children instead? (I didn’t mean that). Its so pathetic I can’t even sympathize.

If you formed a disgusted expression while reading this, I will karate-chop your face ‘cause you’re probably one of these fuckers. I have only contempt for the likes of you. God forgive me if I have ever made anyone feel the way you cunts do to so many suckers. You should be circumcised or castrated. Depending on your gender. And yeah, I am pissed off right now. Sue me.

Fuck off.

On a Plain

I'll start this off without any words
I got so high that I scratched till I bled
I love myself better than you
I know its wrong so what should I do?
The finest day that I ever had
Was when I learned to cry on command
Love myself better than you
I know its wrong so what should I do?

I'm on a plain
I can't complain

My mother died every night
Its safe to say don't quote me on that
Love myself better than you
I know its wrong so what should I do?
The black sheep got blackmailed again
Forgot to put on the zipcode
Love myself better than you
I know its wrong so what should I do?

I'm on a plain
I can't complain

Somewhere I have heard this before
In a dream my memory has stored
As a defence I'm neutered and spayed
What the hell am I trying to say?

Now it's time to make it unclear
To write off lines that don't make sense
Love myself better than you
I know its wrong so what should I do?
One more special message to go
Then I'm done and I can go home
Love myself better than you
I know its wrong so what should I do?

I'm on a plain
I can't complain

(Nirvana - On a plain)

I can't believe I took the trouble of actually typing all that when copy / paste would have worked just as well.

The point of the song? Well, the song doesn't make any sense. Its because it wasn't supposed to. There is NO MEANING to this song, much to the disappointment of many a dismayed kurt cobain fans who have tried to ascribe some to it. The lyrics were re-written five minutes before the song's recording and cobain just put together random poetry. Notice how, in the last verse, he sarcastically sings "One more special message......" because he knew people would try to unearth hidden meanings.

This is the first time I'm posting a blog. Like the song, I have nothing to say at this moment in time and am feeling rather sleepy.

In due time.