"The direction of the eye So misleading
The defection of the soul Nauseously quick
I don't question Our existence
I just question Our modern needs
I will walk...with my hands bound
I will walk...with my face blood
I will walk...with my shadow flag
Into your garden
Garden of stone
After all is done
We're still alone
I won't be taken
Yet I'll go...with my hands bound
I will walk...with my face blood
I will walk...with my shadow flag
Into your gardenGarden of stone
I don't show...I don't share...I don't need
What you have to give...
Ooooh, I will walk...with my hands bound
I will walk...with my face blood
I will walk...with my shadow flag
Into your garden
Garden, oohhh I will walk...with my hands bound
I will walk...into your garden-Garden of stone
I don't know...I don't care...I don't need You, for me to live"
-Pearl Jam
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Cockroach
Why is every single thing about "Doing it right", "doing it correct"? Why is it so bloody necessary? Why is everyone around me SO fucked up?! Why is everyone living with a bunch of pretences (& misunderstandings!) stuck up their buttholes! And fuck them, its annoying ME! I can't stand this constant itch.
Sometimes (well most of the times..) i think without really knowin it. It's like, a apart of me zones out to a completely different dimension.( Well now that i've written it, i KNOW it too. That's wat happens. I zone out. N now suddenly it does not feel like much of a big deal to really be spoken bout u know. But anyway....)
So on "zoning" out (Why the fuck am i still trying????), I dunno wat happens.
So i can't even write now! Fair enough. I deserve it, I just AM so much full of shit. I mean WHAT? I want to run the fuck away from this world full o ppl who just cannot stand me, to whom I am nothing but a fucking COCKROACH.
Sometimes I feel i am done being a cockroach and sometimes when I see a real cockroach (tat makes me a fake cockroach....c tats wt i mean but fuck it..), i tend to observe how it walks, how it looks, wat the hell it does. After I am done with my research- I kill it!
It gives me peace. Its not like I feel at the fucking top of this world due to my apparent superiority, its just that at that moment I feel like mashing the crap out of my own self. But as I am NOT really gonna do that I do that to the lil fucking creature instead by crushing it under my weight. (It can't be "mass" coz m crushing it under a force and "weight" is the force and "mass" is just a property. Anyway, i've thought about it. I don't want any1 raising meaningless n pointless, pain in the fucking ass questions to do with the same.) Please its an honest bloody request, don't ask me silly, stupid, STUPID questions and do not tell me fuck all, FUCK ALL inane bull shitting "Righteous", "correct" fucking nonsense. Nothing helps. Nothing at all. I am SO shit. Just fuck off.
Why do i have to be n do "right" n why n how is it "right" if i dont feel the "right" part about it. "Right" is relative! The complexity behind this has driven the daylights out of me n m fucking shit now. How can a thing be called "right"? Dont fucking generalize it. I am so shit sick of being tested based on things i don't give a lousy fuck for. Its straight ridiculous! The helplessness in explaining it only adds up and gives me a throbbing ass ache.
Change, change, change, change....................................................................
??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
Yes-yes, No-no. Go. Come. Don't go. Don't come. Please go. Please come.
Hey, why m i at fault!
Sometimes (well most of the times..) i think without really knowin it. It's like, a apart of me zones out to a completely different dimension.( Well now that i've written it, i KNOW it too. That's wat happens. I zone out. N now suddenly it does not feel like much of a big deal to really be spoken bout u know. But anyway....)
So on "zoning" out (Why the fuck am i still trying????), I dunno wat happens.
So i can't even write now! Fair enough. I deserve it, I just AM so much full of shit. I mean WHAT? I want to run the fuck away from this world full o ppl who just cannot stand me, to whom I am nothing but a fucking COCKROACH.
Sometimes I feel i am done being a cockroach and sometimes when I see a real cockroach (tat makes me a fake cockroach....c tats wt i mean but fuck it..), i tend to observe how it walks, how it looks, wat the hell it does. After I am done with my research- I kill it!
It gives me peace. Its not like I feel at the fucking top of this world due to my apparent superiority, its just that at that moment I feel like mashing the crap out of my own self. But as I am NOT really gonna do that I do that to the lil fucking creature instead by crushing it under my weight. (It can't be "mass" coz m crushing it under a force and "weight" is the force and "mass" is just a property. Anyway, i've thought about it. I don't want any1 raising meaningless n pointless, pain in the fucking ass questions to do with the same.) Please its an honest bloody request, don't ask me silly, stupid, STUPID questions and do not tell me fuck all, FUCK ALL inane bull shitting "Righteous", "correct" fucking nonsense. Nothing helps. Nothing at all. I am SO shit. Just fuck off.
Why do i have to be n do "right" n why n how is it "right" if i dont feel the "right" part about it. "Right" is relative! The complexity behind this has driven the daylights out of me n m fucking shit now. How can a thing be called "right"? Dont fucking generalize it. I am so shit sick of being tested based on things i don't give a lousy fuck for. Its straight ridiculous! The helplessness in explaining it only adds up and gives me a throbbing ass ache.
Change, change, change, change....................................................................
??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
Yes-yes, No-no. Go. Come. Don't go. Don't come. Please go. Please come.
Hey, why m i at fault!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Chaos!
Don't even go there. You have no fuckin idea! Chaos has been the way of life. Its good enough that i am alive n i manage to gather the little fragments of my filthy existence n live out every day (some-fucking-how!). Incessant wastage of time and energy for almost a week now has sucked out the conviction and will to unearth my dead self from deep underneath the shit i ve bin stuck in. I smile, but i am not happy. I sleep, but i am tired. I breathe, but i am still choking. I cry, but my eyes are dry. I shit(oh, a fuckin lot), but i throw my ass up. I don't know if "end" is a part of this but i am planning to see it through if at all it comes, stare it in the face, kick it in the balls, walk over its grave. Hell ya!
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