Saturday, 31 December 2016
Self love
Friday, 30 December 2016
Smash hits
Pics an such
Say one thing about Cambodia, say its infested with tourists
Typing blind
Let me just begin by saying that I can hardly see what I write on this phone..why you might ask..
That's cuz I've smashed the bloody screen to smithereens.
Well, it was either that or hear a crack of my ankle as I saw myself falling offa relic where from I'd positioned myself to click a picture.
Gah.. one of those mishaps that just have to occur when you travel..at least with me.
So really.. what am I writing? I don't know.. I'm just typing.
Gonna do the rest of blogging from my iPad.
I'm so angry..but had it not been for this gorgeous country I'd be seething mad..
Cambodia is breathtaking..
But more of that later.
That's cuz I've smashed the bloody screen to smithereens.
Well, it was either that or hear a crack of my ankle as I saw myself falling offa relic where from I'd positioned myself to click a picture.
Gah.. one of those mishaps that just have to occur when you travel..at least with me.
So really.. what am I writing? I don't know.. I'm just typing.
Gonna do the rest of blogging from my iPad.
I'm so angry..but had it not been for this gorgeous country I'd be seething mad..
Cambodia is breathtaking..
But more of that later.
Wednesday, 28 December 2016
tv series and such
A bit of tv series watching..
As I've mentioned in my archives, television viewing is oftentimes a moment of disunity where no two parties can logically decide what to watch. The same problems also persist during selection of Tv series and ones that thus get picked are usually neutral themed to both parties. Often action and or mystery.
The newest television series that was unanimously decided was 'Black sails'. a sort of prequel to Treasure island if you will, with the same set of popular pirate names thrown into the mix.
What can I say about this series except that the main theme is absolutely wonderful. It was in fact what enticed me to watch it in the first place. It's so well composed with an array of bass tones and overlying music that you only feel short of a glass of rum and a talking parakeet.
This being said the series is pretty meh. It doesn't exude that piraty feel. The characters inspire no awe, the story line isn't as good and the plot is average at best.
There's a good amount of nudity even at times when you didn't think there was any need for it, but tits gets TRPs I guess, considering this is in its third season and I'm on its second season.
Each episode is 45 minutes long and can feel a lot when binge watched.. considering binge watching anything is the weekend mantra.
All I really wait for is the main theme during casting.
Also it's produced by Michael Bay and Black Sails is as masala as it gets and that too not in a very fun way.
two stars at most but five stars for main theme
Strawberries
A seduction in scarlet.. and me.. I couldn't hold back.
Now I've almost 3 kgs of strawberries on my person, which I'll promptly freeze and keep a handful for the right now..because today is going to be tedious and I shan't have time for these little beauties.
Ah for impulsive buying, and to think I'd only dropped by the fruit shop to buy a few bananas.
One can't keep away from such bounteous glamour. Oh the bodacious winks of gorgeous fruits are not easy to resist..and what am I if not human?
Tuesday, 27 December 2016
Mayo mysteries
Pray, what is the meaning of eggless mayonnaise when the basic components of mayonnaise are but eggs and oil. It's the emulsification of said ingredients that leads to the creation of a silky mayo.
So, eggless mayonnaise.. really what is his mystery?
What is made of? Oil and chemicals? White stuff? Cream and other things such?
It's like potato-less baked potato, or vegetarian tandoori chicken perhaps
So, eggless mayonnaise.. really what is his mystery?
What is made of? Oil and chemicals? White stuff? Cream and other things such?
It's like potato-less baked potato, or vegetarian tandoori chicken perhaps
movie for you
Movie recco, in case you haven't watched it already then 'Mary and Max' is a movie that you'd love.
It's a stop motion animation movie and I know this is one of the bigger deterrents to those who're really not into this kind of animation, but if you let that mental block keep you from watching this brilliant movie then you'd be missing something deeply beautiful.
It manages to be funny and deeply thoughtful at the same time. Exploring themes like friendship, loneliness, depression, isolation and the feeling where you always believe yourself to never be a part of something. (they should have a word for it..loser I believe the colloquial term is)
But really, this is a trailer. If you like it, and I know you will, you'll love the movie which is also available on youtube. In fact you won't just love it, you'll find yourself wholeheartedly immersing in it.
sugarly lumps
After a bit of calculation I've some to the conclusion that my daily sugar intake is about 3-4 teaspoons. That's about 70 calories.
I've also come to the conclusion that sugar isn't bad for you. In fact it's an essential need for your body. Being overly conscious about sugar intake and worrying each time what you eat is plain useless. The point is moderation.
Having a bit of sugar in tea or coffee is quite alright as long as you're not an excessive drinker of the above said. But a couple cups is fine and addition of sugar by a teaspoon or so is fine too－as long as you know it to be just enough.
there are some who like their drinks excessively sweet, well that's a habit which needs to be curbed or regulated.
Having said this, it still doesn't become okay to drink a lot of sugary beverages given the same argument that a bit of sugar is important to your system. Everything in moderation (including moderation ;) )
Artificial sweeteners, low calories sweeteners etc though zero caloried are not nearly as tasty as sugar. That is to say they never give the desired effect and in fact end up increasing your sugar cravings and that's the kind of craving one easily caves in to.
So all I'm saying is don't be obsessively paranoid about sugar intake. Know how much you're taking, keep a mental count and avoid over indulgence.
There are however times when I substitute honey for sugar especially when I need to sweetened drinks that are cold, and honey since liquid is easily dissolved.
Thinking honey to be better than sugar is, well, useless. It's pretty much exactly like sugar and the trace so called minerals are so miniscule that it fades in the bigger picture.
Sugar is okay. Dont hate it.
I've also come to the conclusion that sugar isn't bad for you. In fact it's an essential need for your body. Being overly conscious about sugar intake and worrying each time what you eat is plain useless. The point is moderation.
Having a bit of sugar in tea or coffee is quite alright as long as you're not an excessive drinker of the above said. But a couple cups is fine and addition of sugar by a teaspoon or so is fine too－as long as you know it to be just enough.
there are some who like their drinks excessively sweet, well that's a habit which needs to be curbed or regulated.
Having said this, it still doesn't become okay to drink a lot of sugary beverages given the same argument that a bit of sugar is important to your system. Everything in moderation (including moderation ;) )
Artificial sweeteners, low calories sweeteners etc though zero caloried are not nearly as tasty as sugar. That is to say they never give the desired effect and in fact end up increasing your sugar cravings and that's the kind of craving one easily caves in to.
So all I'm saying is don't be obsessively paranoid about sugar intake. Know how much you're taking, keep a mental count and avoid over indulgence.
There are however times when I substitute honey for sugar especially when I need to sweetened drinks that are cold, and honey since liquid is easily dissolved.
Thinking honey to be better than sugar is, well, useless. It's pretty much exactly like sugar and the trace so called minerals are so miniscule that it fades in the bigger picture.
Sugar is okay. Dont hate it.
now how does one deal with today
A big ol' oops to this day.
Everything about today was distressingly delayed, beginning with me waking up.. sometime after 9:00 (yikes).
I have a reasonably sound explanation though it might really be an excuse, but trust me it's an explanation.
having slept during the beginning of midnight I was roused by a sort of commotion at 4:00.
This noise that woke me up was coming from somewhere in the house, and it didn't need much imagination from my undead self to know that cat was up to some mischief. Of course. The fiend had slept for over 12 hours in the afternoon, and his nocturnal proclivities are but a legend..I speak for all feline's out there.
Without bothering with any warm covers I strolled in a zombie like state to the drawing room where I bore witness to a rather disconcerting spectacle.
Gogi had upturned his water and food bowls, thus spilling all the contents over my wooden floor; not just that, he'd also successfully Jackson Pollocked that area with a ghastly mulch of food and water.
To say that I cursed freely would be an understatement. I knew I wouldn't be able to get anymore sleep were I to ignore this ghastly work of art and embed myself back into my warm bed.
My limbs were still recovering from the shock of being exposed to cold cruelty of frigid drawing room and one of my eye still obstinately stuck to its lashes.
In a stupor that was half enraged I cleaned the mess that was upturned mulch and mopped all the water. Replaced it with some more fresh food and water and with a few obscure curses that'd melt any ear within a listening shot I returned to my bed that welcomed me back with an embrace so sizzling I almost cried.
Just as a dream had begun to firmly lodge its presence behind my eyes I was rudely woken up by a sound that was rather audible in a very wrong way.
Throwing back warm coverings I galloped to the living room, my limbs cursing freely and I drowning their voice with angry cuss words of my own; immediately eyeing cat's intact food bowls I heaved a sigh of relief, which was short lived.
I looked around with half lidded eyes and saw that the whiskered mephistopheles had upturned a dustbin that sat serenely in the living room. Thankfully it only always houses torn bits of papers and other recyclable garbage; woe is me however that I had thrown into it two empty wine bottles just that night, and they had now upturned along with a myriad of torn receipts, empty packets and other useless bits of papyrus.
It wasn't a mess as much as it was a pain to collect everything and shove it back in the dustbin, especially when the clock was still shy of striking 6:00.
The cat looked at me as if he were the most innocent babe in the woods and purring in the softest purr, he gave my half dead self an approving head bump and sauntered off into the bedroom while I collected still his diabolical mess.
Finally I walked or rather dragged my freezing anatomy back to bed, where the little devil had already made for himself a small space in between the folds of my duvet.
No sooner had I clambered in, that the cat walked up to my chest now buried under blankets and made himself to sleep.. and thus we slept till it was 9:00.
And this my lord is how the day was fantastically delayed.
Everything about today was distressingly delayed, beginning with me waking up.. sometime after 9:00 (yikes).
I have a reasonably sound explanation though it might really be an excuse, but trust me it's an explanation.
having slept during the beginning of midnight I was roused by a sort of commotion at 4:00.
This noise that woke me up was coming from somewhere in the house, and it didn't need much imagination from my undead self to know that cat was up to some mischief. Of course. The fiend had slept for over 12 hours in the afternoon, and his nocturnal proclivities are but a legend..I speak for all feline's out there.
Without bothering with any warm covers I strolled in a zombie like state to the drawing room where I bore witness to a rather disconcerting spectacle.
Gogi had upturned his water and food bowls, thus spilling all the contents over my wooden floor; not just that, he'd also successfully Jackson Pollocked that area with a ghastly mulch of food and water.
To say that I cursed freely would be an understatement. I knew I wouldn't be able to get anymore sleep were I to ignore this ghastly work of art and embed myself back into my warm bed.
My limbs were still recovering from the shock of being exposed to cold cruelty of frigid drawing room and one of my eye still obstinately stuck to its lashes.
In a stupor that was half enraged I cleaned the mess that was upturned mulch and mopped all the water. Replaced it with some more fresh food and water and with a few obscure curses that'd melt any ear within a listening shot I returned to my bed that welcomed me back with an embrace so sizzling I almost cried.
Just as a dream had begun to firmly lodge its presence behind my eyes I was rudely woken up by a sound that was rather audible in a very wrong way.
Throwing back warm coverings I galloped to the living room, my limbs cursing freely and I drowning their voice with angry cuss words of my own; immediately eyeing cat's intact food bowls I heaved a sigh of relief, which was short lived.
I looked around with half lidded eyes and saw that the whiskered mephistopheles had upturned a dustbin that sat serenely in the living room. Thankfully it only always houses torn bits of papers and other recyclable garbage; woe is me however that I had thrown into it two empty wine bottles just that night, and they had now upturned along with a myriad of torn receipts, empty packets and other useless bits of papyrus.
It wasn't a mess as much as it was a pain to collect everything and shove it back in the dustbin, especially when the clock was still shy of striking 6:00.
The cat looked at me as if he were the most innocent babe in the woods and purring in the softest purr, he gave my half dead self an approving head bump and sauntered off into the bedroom while I collected still his diabolical mess.
Finally I walked or rather dragged my freezing anatomy back to bed, where the little devil had already made for himself a small space in between the folds of my duvet.
No sooner had I clambered in, that the cat walked up to my chest now buried under blankets and made himself to sleep.. and thus we slept till it was 9:00.
And this my lord is how the day was fantastically delayed.
Monday, 26 December 2016
Drop of night
a sizzling glade of warm blankets that house a snaking pair of cold limbs trying to find a spot that'd hold them for the rest of the night.
In a hidden cotton labyrinth rest folds of assuring flame, granting an obliging refuge in pockets of residual bodily heat.
Tonight's fabric sepulcher is brought to you by deathless demand to be swaddled in fervent fire
To metamorphose into a skin branding that'd forever bind me to a flesh for eternal kiss.
A rooted microwave, distributing heat caked under soft billows of pillowy duvet; midnight urn to hold ashes of dead dreams and aborted nightmares, scattered freely in shrouded sleep.
Hearts
In a hidden cotton labyrinth rest folds of assuring flame, granting an obliging refuge in pockets of residual bodily heat.
Tonight's fabric sepulcher is brought to you by deathless demand to be swaddled in fervent fire
To metamorphose into a skin branding that'd forever bind me to a flesh for eternal kiss.
A rooted microwave, distributing heat caked under soft billows of pillowy duvet; midnight urn to hold ashes of dead dreams and aborted nightmares, scattered freely in shrouded sleep.
Hearts
Cat crusader
In case of more information on semi hibernation, meet cat.
Meow he says and enters his home each day in the wee hours of morning, if he has left for the night, that is.
In he comes, says a little purr, a bit of scratching and some stretching, applying face to his bowl. Looking up with needy eyes that oft ask for milk which he promptly gets. For this house is nothing save a bunch of his staff or slaves as one would care to put it.
Gobble, crunch, munch and a big ol' yawn.
With a spring in his step and a graceful jump he lets himself up on a small chair especially reserved for him near the radiator. He has moved on from sitting on the sofa, once he discovered the virtues of warmth emitted from an oil heater. A chair it is then. Beautiful black leathered, now sporting a considerable amount of soft discernible fur on account of its feline tenant.
And there, on the peak of undisturbed coziness the cat sleeps.
Sleeps like a merry comatose, a siesta unparalleled.
Curled into an impossible fetal position of a cute furball, he slumbers with an envious abandon.
From morning to noon to dusk he sleeps.
Time at a standstill while mundane chaos reigns in the background; of chores and chores and endless nothings..through all that he sleeps.
To the music of blenders, of dishes washed, notification pings and vegetables chopped. Cooking, cleaning and work outs and ukulele. He sleeps still, waking only momentarily to stretch or shift or eat some more, which he does almost 3-4 times in between his 10 hour long zzz's.
And when at night at wits end you wish to relax, he wakes up, a giant of irresistible cuteness refreshed, famished and playful in a mood to hunt.
What now, you might ask.
Fickle feline he does what he wants.
Hibernate some more you'd ask, but that's when he'd do exactly nothing you desire.
Meow to be let out, meow to be let in, meow for no reason, meow for absolutely nothing.
This rebel without a pause
this rebel with a paws
Sigh..
Meow he says and enters his home each day in the wee hours of morning, if he has left for the night, that is.
In he comes, says a little purr, a bit of scratching and some stretching, applying face to his bowl. Looking up with needy eyes that oft ask for milk which he promptly gets. For this house is nothing save a bunch of his staff or slaves as one would care to put it.
Gobble, crunch, munch and a big ol' yawn.
With a spring in his step and a graceful jump he lets himself up on a small chair especially reserved for him near the radiator. He has moved on from sitting on the sofa, once he discovered the virtues of warmth emitted from an oil heater. A chair it is then. Beautiful black leathered, now sporting a considerable amount of soft discernible fur on account of its feline tenant.
And there, on the peak of undisturbed coziness the cat sleeps.
Sleeps like a merry comatose, a siesta unparalleled.
Curled into an impossible fetal position of a cute furball, he slumbers with an envious abandon.
From morning to noon to dusk he sleeps.
Time at a standstill while mundane chaos reigns in the background; of chores and chores and endless nothings..through all that he sleeps.
To the music of blenders, of dishes washed, notification pings and vegetables chopped. Cooking, cleaning and work outs and ukulele. He sleeps still, waking only momentarily to stretch or shift or eat some more, which he does almost 3-4 times in between his 10 hour long zzz's.
And when at night at wits end you wish to relax, he wakes up, a giant of irresistible cuteness refreshed, famished and playful in a mood to hunt.
What now, you might ask.
Fickle feline he does what he wants.
Hibernate some more you'd ask, but that's when he'd do exactly nothing you desire.
Meow to be let out, meow to be let in, meow for no reason, meow for absolutely nothing.
This rebel without a pause
this rebel with a paws
Sigh..
song
look now a song for you
pouring out of marrow coagulating inside our veins
into faint daubs blob like gels
strewn around cells pulsating with life
touch it with the tip of a wet finger and collect as many that stick to it
listen close a cappella of burning flesh emitting no steam
smouldering orchestra in cackles of smiles
hymn uttered every night in tune of dark praises
endearment bebop bludgeoned in secret acoustic
bulbous globules quivering with your every breath
threat like palpitations.
each throb a promise to fracture into dribbles of sonorous harmony
disgorging over a wet finger, finding an artery
pouring out of marrow coagulating inside our veins
into faint daubs blob like gels
strewn around cells pulsating with life
touch it with the tip of a wet finger and collect as many that stick to it
listen close a cappella of burning flesh emitting no steam
smouldering orchestra in cackles of smiles
hymn uttered every night in tune of dark praises
endearment bebop bludgeoned in secret acoustic
bulbous globules quivering with your every breath
threat like palpitations.
each throb a promise to fracture into dribbles of sonorous harmony
disgorging over a wet finger, finding an artery
what on earth motivation
How does this work? asking, inquiring, looking for some motivational talks that help you to get fit or live healthy or lead a cleaner life?
I mean when you're out there looking for something that specific it means you already know what you want.
Why do you need motivation anymore? Find a plan that works for you instead of trolling the web and sites for a motivational lecture on the same.
It's like I need xyz but I need someone to motivate me to want it.
I mean when you're out there looking for something that specific it means you already know what you want.
Why do you need motivation anymore? Find a plan that works for you instead of trolling the web and sites for a motivational lecture on the same.
It's like I need xyz but I need someone to motivate me to want it.
purging
habits to addiction to pangs of pain..
Cocaine coffee
One week of caffeine purge and I'm already wondering if I shouldn't have a cup of coffee or tea. Though at this time of the day I usually want to settle with a cuppa coffee.. but No! I say to myself. resolved. Obstinate and weak still, but my resolute facade holds and it shall not be shaken. This faith cannot be wavered.
Hot water liberally infused with goji berries it is.
I coild drawa smiley but it'd actually be a frownie.
a bit of date up
Here we are again.. a rather relaxed Boxing Day Monday.
This time few years back I remember standing in immigration line for longer than what is normal at Athens airport because most employees were on a Boxing Day holiday with just a few immigration officials left to stamp visas.
Dear oh dear, how vulgarly I gave in to eating this weekend. Literally devouring every food item in this house, going to great lengths to cook up a storm and eating it too.
There was no point stepping out anywhere given the incessant rains clubbed with spine freezing chill. Thankfully a few days hence, In fact day after I'll be shimmering my way into a much warmer climate for a few days.
Amen to that.
Today shall be a dedication to binge watching shows I missed during the weekend.
I feel like reading a good lot of comics now.
This time few years back I remember standing in immigration line for longer than what is normal at Athens airport because most employees were on a Boxing Day holiday with just a few immigration officials left to stamp visas.
Dear oh dear, how vulgarly I gave in to eating this weekend. Literally devouring every food item in this house, going to great lengths to cook up a storm and eating it too.
There was no point stepping out anywhere given the incessant rains clubbed with spine freezing chill. Thankfully a few days hence, In fact day after I'll be shimmering my way into a much warmer climate for a few days.
Amen to that.
Today shall be a dedication to binge watching shows I missed during the weekend.
I feel like reading a good lot of comics now.
Sunday, 25 December 2016
Bad pics good memories
This was me frolicking the grounds in the middle of the night, much after entry was closed to tourists..but what about those that had taken to staying inside the heritage site?
This was a fun time.
Matinee
Dreams:
My father gave me a stash of coins which was really a big bucket, and told me to count them and keep them with me.
He then proceeded to pour a vinaigrette over coins and toss them about like you would a salad, and this hardly perturbed me. I looked on at this dressing of the coins as the most normal thing in the world, but developed cold feet when it came to counting coins because there were some with fluted edges that said 2, which meant these coins weren't meant to be added but subtracted.
And to think there was a bucket of 'em. I told my dad I wouldn't do it and I've no need for so many coins either, and as I mouthed these words I felt something odd going about with my teeth.
Repairing to the bathroom I saw that my teeth were loose in the sockets and thus crooked.
Oh dear, I looked about for a good toothbrush and toothpaste, but the only ones available were old and bristly.
Finally I found an electric toothbrush that was more like a drilling machine, and I found an almost empty tube of 'dant Kanti' toothpaste, and proceeded to torture my gums.
I woke up for a minor second and realized with a sigh of relief that it was but a dream.
My father gave me a stash of coins which was really a big bucket, and told me to count them and keep them with me.
He then proceeded to pour a vinaigrette over coins and toss them about like you would a salad, and this hardly perturbed me. I looked on at this dressing of the coins as the most normal thing in the world, but developed cold feet when it came to counting coins because there were some with fluted edges that said 2, which meant these coins weren't meant to be added but subtracted.
And to think there was a bucket of 'em. I told my dad I wouldn't do it and I've no need for so many coins either, and as I mouthed these words I felt something odd going about with my teeth.
Repairing to the bathroom I saw that my teeth were loose in the sockets and thus crooked.
Oh dear, I looked about for a good toothbrush and toothpaste, but the only ones available were old and bristly.
Finally I found an electric toothbrush that was more like a drilling machine, and I found an almost empty tube of 'dant Kanti' toothpaste, and proceeded to torture my gums.
I woke up for a minor second and realized with a sigh of relief that it was but a dream.
Saturday, 24 December 2016
Ottoman feast
A weekend still, one that begs for you to partake in every undesirable; like pigging out on saturated fats and carbs, courtesy Turkish food.
Coincidence this that a few time zones apart, while a Turkish novel meets its strongest critique I nosedive headlong into all manner of Turkish delicacies.
That they were laden with subtle scents of kasbah's oriental spices, doused liberally with olive oil and supported immodestly with shimmering carbs is partly a reason why I over indulged and promised to eat only boiled veggies the rest of the week.
Lahcuman, pide, muhammara, minced lamb dumplings and a basketful of sesame topped Turkish rolls washed down with some Turkish coffee.
I fee like I've got inertia.
This body is in a state of rest, refusing to move.
Call a JCB to excavate me from this couch today.
Before I zzz
Sitting under a little light, from a lamp overhead that enables me to read at night, surreptitiously sometimes, washing me in a white glow which slowly dies as it tumbles further into the room.
A miniature spotlight if you please, one that illuminates every word in a book.
A little corner of my bed that doesn't sleep, bright as morning under a tungsten moon.
Quiet it is though, so quiet that the soft turn of crisp pages is a cackle cacophonic tearing through silence. A rip in time, a torn bit of fabric that makes sleepy heads turn in my direction, as if I'd committed an act most heinous.
Rapidly reading through sentences and paragraphs, looking for sleep in subtexts. Somewhere between right now and never lies a perfidious slumber. I cast a net of well crafted words that breaks into figments of imagination.
Night has come and yet I'm not ready to go, for punctual as it always is, it's rarely inviting.
Soon..kisses
A miniature spotlight if you please, one that illuminates every word in a book.
A little corner of my bed that doesn't sleep, bright as morning under a tungsten moon.
Quiet it is though, so quiet that the soft turn of crisp pages is a cackle cacophonic tearing through silence. A rip in time, a torn bit of fabric that makes sleepy heads turn in my direction, as if I'd committed an act most heinous.
Rapidly reading through sentences and paragraphs, looking for sleep in subtexts. Somewhere between right now and never lies a perfidious slumber. I cast a net of well crafted words that breaks into figments of imagination.
Night has come and yet I'm not ready to go, for punctual as it always is, it's rarely inviting.
Soon..kisses
Friday, 23 December 2016
On a book
Almost every list of 100 books or 50 books or even 20 books to read before you die lists 'The Great Gatsby'. Apparently it's a must read because of whatever reasons that maybe Americans don't know much about good literature.
There's nothing remotely great, nor good about this book. It's boring, the language isn't all that, the characters are meh, plot is whatever and there's not a single shot of enlightening 'whoah' that might ever emit out your mouth while reading this piece of fiction.
In fact Baz Luhrman's movie was a hundred times better than the book. One of those instances where the movie is better than the book.
There's nothing remotely great, nor good about this book. It's boring, the language isn't all that, the characters are meh, plot is whatever and there's not a single shot of enlightening 'whoah' that might ever emit out your mouth while reading this piece of fiction.
In fact Baz Luhrman's movie was a hundred times better than the book. One of those instances where the movie is better than the book.
In the middle
German stollen. Studded with raisins, currants, almonds and candied citrus peel with a center of gooey almond paste
reportage
In between baking Christmas bread and wondering how can making something so easy take so long?
It's not tedious, just that it has an elaborate many steps, compounded by the fact that a lot many ingredients are not easily available in the market, I have to make them at home.
Like almond meal, candied citrus peel and so forth.
But I'm not complaining. My muscles did get a good workout though, punching almost a kilo of good cheer scented dough for almost ten minutes, and as I wait for it it to rise I've to prepare dinner after which I'll be doing another ten minutes of kneading after incorporating rum swollen raisins and currants and nuts.
For what am I, if not a multitasking acolyte.
Phew I tell you.
Turns out my Taiwanese neighbours are Christians, a good bit of luck then.
There's a goodly bit of Christmas cooking going around in this area. One needn't be as much Sherlock as a hound to make out the myriad cinnamon scented, vanilla spiked air.
In other news the cat has been asleep for almost 5 hours and doesn't look too optimistic about waking up anytime soon, except maybe when it's my time to sleep.
sighs..
ads
Saw a Chinese ad for lays chips and was a bit surprised and taken aback that they were being advertised not just as a snack, but as a coating wherein your crush the chips with a rolling pin and use it to coat food for frying to give it that crispy texture and added flavour.
Jot downs
I'm not one for journaling, for that is not my key trait, and adding or trying to add or superimpose it into my daily activities would end up making it into a chore and journaling shouldn't be a chore.
Having said that, I must improve my earlier statement by emphasizing that I'm not into journaling in the conventional sense of the term.
This blog, for example is a sort of daily journal for me.
My post it notes stuck in a hap hazard construction over my notebooks, scribbles and scrawls on moleskines, broken poems and littered thoughts on every second page are somewhat a semblance of journal, after a fashion that is.
To say that I make daily notes, and maintain a workbook that stores my daily agendas would be incorrect.
I do however have a travel journal. A little notebook where I write things as I travel, be it critiquing some bad play or ballerina performance or jotting down important subway stations of different countries.
In fact I have two notebooks to the same effect where I take to inscribing a plethora of oddities, including hand made maps of how to get to various places when I travel alone, restaurant names and what I ate on my travels.
Talking of food: I've since long maintained a couple books where I write down recipes, note down changes made to created recipes, copy recipes from my moms kitchen, paste torn out pages from magazines/newspaper where I happened to like a certain recipe and jot down pointers. Even writing down ideas that've come to me in apparitions.
I do however maintain a workout log for everyday, wherein I note what kinds of exercises I've done, if they included equipments or not and their duration.
I should add to this my meal logs as well, so as to get a better understanding of my diet to exercise situation.
Perhaps the calendar I make for next week will try to incorporate this addition.
I tend to look at my drawings as a sort of journal, specifically ones that I never put up on insta or even this blog. Tiny sketches, boxes and columns filled with practice drawings, animals, little birds etc.
perhaps I'll put a couple here..
Well, that's a bit about my journaling. I've thought about trying to make it a daily habit, but as I said it's not my key trait, and if something doesn't come naturally to you, it's pointless to impose it upon yourself.
Having said that, I'm not one to shy away from reading a good journal or two (wink wink)
Odd notes
An easy squeezy tube of condensed milk.
I don't know how popular this contraption for condensed milk is but it's a lot more useful than its tinned comrade.
For starters I don't have to open an entire tin for a few spoonfuls of leche, nor or does it take up that kind of space, and there's a certain non verbal satisfaction in squeezing things out of tubes.
Breaksfast
Thursday, 22 December 2016
Pains
Cannot deal with headaches. Sometimes when they're too kind, they tend to go away on their own, other times you need to expel them.
Which is exactly what I had to do this evening.
I'm not too proud of popping in ache pills, but when it's migraine there are few alternatives.
This ache had been bothering me since yesterday, and after 24 hours of dilly dallying, wishing or rather hoping it would be on its way, the stubborn basted didn't relent, and I had to cull the goddamn thing with a med.
Usually I try to push them out of my system by drinking a lot of water. It works sometimes.
Ah, and to think I was working out through the dull throb. That could have been avoided.
Remind me not to strain my body when some part of it is already under attack.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll limit myself to light exercises.
Also is something wrong with how I sleep or what is it that ends in phantom neck and shoulder ache. This is something similar to what I was going through last year as well, in terms of neck pain. What? Is this like a seasonal thing? And should it happen to someone who's physically active and mostly fit?
Could this be because of lack of sleep?
Whatever this ridiculous phase it it needs to get done with. I hate feeling aches, and I refuse to feel anymore headaches. Come on, this is the second time this month that I had a goddamn migraine.
I'm pissed now.
Which is exactly what I had to do this evening.
I'm not too proud of popping in ache pills, but when it's migraine there are few alternatives.
This ache had been bothering me since yesterday, and after 24 hours of dilly dallying, wishing or rather hoping it would be on its way, the stubborn basted didn't relent, and I had to cull the goddamn thing with a med.
Usually I try to push them out of my system by drinking a lot of water. It works sometimes.
Ah, and to think I was working out through the dull throb. That could have been avoided.
Remind me not to strain my body when some part of it is already under attack.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll limit myself to light exercises.
Also is something wrong with how I sleep or what is it that ends in phantom neck and shoulder ache. This is something similar to what I was going through last year as well, in terms of neck pain. What? Is this like a seasonal thing? And should it happen to someone who's physically active and mostly fit?
Could this be because of lack of sleep?
Whatever this ridiculous phase it it needs to get done with. I hate feeling aches, and I refuse to feel anymore headaches. Come on, this is the second time this month that I had a goddamn migraine.
I'm pissed now.
Right now
If you could just walk into my house and inhale the citrusy aromatics that are my candied peels in the making..ah.
Relativity
How long are fifty seconds?
Quantifying them with the memory of a minute long lingering kiss would be wrong. For you cannot judge time by joyous moments. Those seconds that ticked by were but false. It's difficult, to know the real implications or severity of the wealth and value that fifty seconds can hold by moping over that time you held your lovers hand latched on to his dewy gaze, and searched yourself in those eyes while the day sped by in two minutes.
The real worth and length of fifty seconds is realized when you're in a planking position, doing plank jacks, dipping down your knees till they barely touch the floor and bringing them up to do a full jack with your toes, only to bring them back again, repeating that motion for fifty seconds in three repetitions.
Fifty seconds is a really long time, and if you could idle that time in a kiss and call it a small one then you're lucky.
Do you wonder disappointment?
Real disappointment comes when you eagerly look at the timer from between your screaming sinews and pulsating pain rippling through your core muscles, when sweat is rapidly pooling under your chin, when your abdomen is tying itself in a knot when you hopefully think that fifty seconds must be up and the timer miserably tells you that you've been in this position not more than fifteen seconds, that more than double the amount of time still remains, that you've got to endure a good while longer.
Life is all kinds of relative and don't you just love it for that?
Quantifying them with the memory of a minute long lingering kiss would be wrong. For you cannot judge time by joyous moments. Those seconds that ticked by were but false. It's difficult, to know the real implications or severity of the wealth and value that fifty seconds can hold by moping over that time you held your lovers hand latched on to his dewy gaze, and searched yourself in those eyes while the day sped by in two minutes.
The real worth and length of fifty seconds is realized when you're in a planking position, doing plank jacks, dipping down your knees till they barely touch the floor and bringing them up to do a full jack with your toes, only to bring them back again, repeating that motion for fifty seconds in three repetitions.
Fifty seconds is a really long time, and if you could idle that time in a kiss and call it a small one then you're lucky.
Do you wonder disappointment?
Real disappointment comes when you eagerly look at the timer from between your screaming sinews and pulsating pain rippling through your core muscles, when sweat is rapidly pooling under your chin, when your abdomen is tying itself in a knot when you hopefully think that fifty seconds must be up and the timer miserably tells you that you've been in this position not more than fifteen seconds, that more than double the amount of time still remains, that you've got to endure a good while longer.
Life is all kinds of relative and don't you just love it for that?
No good stinking sleep
Nights have emerged as a fresh new pain.
If I could be granted a gift that makes me snooze the moment I got into bed, mornings would feel a whole lot nicer.
Eyes shut and awake till well past midnight only to wake up a few hours later. Not fatigued but wrecked with odd aches. Most of which tend to travel up my spine and start hammering at my skull.
And then a second wave of half hearted sleep after fixing breakfast etc in the wee hours of morning that have begun to leave me with a heavy feeling that permeates throughout my day.
The last time I slept without a moments hesitation was sometime two weeks past, and since then my sleep has been nothing but a series of badly timed intervals.
It could be something to do with season or just a phase I tend to go through every once in a while, but dear oh dear sleep has always posed a threat each night, never promising never assuring. It leaves me guessing. Never once does it come to the forefront in support. Backstabbing always.
Gah, gotta get on with the day. I've to workout and make fabulous lunch.
Go out shopping for citrus fruits.
Make candied peel.
Prepare almond meal
Make stollen for Christmas.
Too many things on my plate, and goddamn sleep that wouldn't even touch me with a ten foot pole.
If I could be granted a gift that makes me snooze the moment I got into bed, mornings would feel a whole lot nicer.
Eyes shut and awake till well past midnight only to wake up a few hours later. Not fatigued but wrecked with odd aches. Most of which tend to travel up my spine and start hammering at my skull.
And then a second wave of half hearted sleep after fixing breakfast etc in the wee hours of morning that have begun to leave me with a heavy feeling that permeates throughout my day.
The last time I slept without a moments hesitation was sometime two weeks past, and since then my sleep has been nothing but a series of badly timed intervals.
It could be something to do with season or just a phase I tend to go through every once in a while, but dear oh dear sleep has always posed a threat each night, never promising never assuring. It leaves me guessing. Never once does it come to the forefront in support. Backstabbing always.
Gah, gotta get on with the day. I've to workout and make fabulous lunch.
Go out shopping for citrus fruits.
Make candied peel.
Prepare almond meal
Make stollen for Christmas.
Too many things on my plate, and goddamn sleep that wouldn't even touch me with a ten foot pole.
Wednesday, 21 December 2016
New things
Kids doing homework at Starbucks while their mothers lovingly feed them a tall cream filled chocolate abomination of sorts.
This is new.
This is new.
Right here right now
Perhaps something to do with Santa Claus and eating cakes.
Well, after this long haul of a day, the last thing I'll be doing is going back home and cooking me lunch, since my second breakfast happened at a time when most people lunch. Ah.
So, now I find myself sitting pretty in a ramen shop. Waiting for sustenance.
After which I'm going to treat me to some coffee, because what am I if not a stickler for my routine.
Tuesday, 20 December 2016
Chocolate woes
Of strange confessions that these archives seemingly litter with, add this, an asinine randomness of mysterious proportions most illogical, yet still in existence.
That I had in a fit of zealous undertakings made Siri swear on a reminder, to remind me each day at 20:00hrs that I should refrain from partaking in any hot chocolate potation.
As it had happened, I'd a month prior begun to freely imbibe hot chocolate, a device of my own making, or rather a recipe I devised and so much did I like the result of that terra-cotta coloured velvety smoothness that every night a mug of steaming cuppa chocolate was downed with an injudicious eagerness.
Realizing this wasn't a practice I'd like carry on with, considering I didn't need the extra calories–even though one mug according to my calculations is a measly 80 calories, still in my fanatic commitment to stay fit, I fed Siri a reminder that kept me from drinking it for a month.
Seeing how it had positively affected me I deleted the reminder a few days prior, understanding that I'd cured myself of this crippling addiction most sweet.
Alas, the past two days that Siri didn't chime with the reminder, I fell off the wagon.
Yes, darling, only yesterday I had the terrible urge to mix a few spoonfuls of chocolate mix to hot water and coat my insides with liquid nirvana and I did, except it felt like a party inside of me, so delicious and forgotten the taste felt, and ah, not just that; I sheepishly write this post with a mug that sends wafting a chocolaty fug over my person.
I failed in my resolve and disastrously so, and this has got me wondering how on earth did I keep it together with a silly reminder on a phone. Needless to say, I've reassigned the said reminder to keep myself from walking to the glass jar that houses a deep bronze powder of powers most voluptuously enticing. .
Granted I do not possess a will of iron, but since when did it get to be so elastic?
Over come with guilt.. sigh.
That I had in a fit of zealous undertakings made Siri swear on a reminder, to remind me each day at 20:00hrs that I should refrain from partaking in any hot chocolate potation.
As it had happened, I'd a month prior begun to freely imbibe hot chocolate, a device of my own making, or rather a recipe I devised and so much did I like the result of that terra-cotta coloured velvety smoothness that every night a mug of steaming cuppa chocolate was downed with an injudicious eagerness.
Realizing this wasn't a practice I'd like carry on with, considering I didn't need the extra calories–even though one mug according to my calculations is a measly 80 calories, still in my fanatic commitment to stay fit, I fed Siri a reminder that kept me from drinking it for a month.
Seeing how it had positively affected me I deleted the reminder a few days prior, understanding that I'd cured myself of this crippling addiction most sweet.
Alas, the past two days that Siri didn't chime with the reminder, I fell off the wagon.
Yes, darling, only yesterday I had the terrible urge to mix a few spoonfuls of chocolate mix to hot water and coat my insides with liquid nirvana and I did, except it felt like a party inside of me, so delicious and forgotten the taste felt, and ah, not just that; I sheepishly write this post with a mug that sends wafting a chocolaty fug over my person.
I failed in my resolve and disastrously so, and this has got me wondering how on earth did I keep it together with a silly reminder on a phone. Needless to say, I've reassigned the said reminder to keep myself from walking to the glass jar that houses a deep bronze powder of powers most voluptuously enticing. .
Granted I do not possess a will of iron, but since when did it get to be so elastic?
Over come with guilt.. sigh.
sampling today
Just saw the trailer of John Wick sequel movie, and it looks good. I mean of course, John wick was a fab movie, wasn't it?
They're coming up with a sort of sequel to Blade Runner too. Mixed feelings about that though.
Now why do I feel like eating a brownie? hmph.
I've to do a bit of shopping and start making a few Christmas goodies to give out to neighbours etc.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll do the shopping and day after bake some Stollen.
They're my absolute favourite Christmas breads.
Today was gone in a whirlwind of activities.
I've realized that Tuesday's are when I'm most maxed out. Something to do with getting over weekend hangover.
One of those days, when the merest glimpse of kitchen will send me shrieking, but do as one must..have to get out there and do some cooking. meeeahhh..
Fresh out of ideas and absolutely lazy to boot.
sighs one the double
They're coming up with a sort of sequel to Blade Runner too. Mixed feelings about that though.
Now why do I feel like eating a brownie? hmph.
I've to do a bit of shopping and start making a few Christmas goodies to give out to neighbours etc.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll do the shopping and day after bake some Stollen.
They're my absolute favourite Christmas breads.
Today was gone in a whirlwind of activities.
I've realized that Tuesday's are when I'm most maxed out. Something to do with getting over weekend hangover.
One of those days, when the merest glimpse of kitchen will send me shrieking, but do as one must..have to get out there and do some cooking. meeeahhh..
Fresh out of ideas and absolutely lazy to boot.
sighs one the double
ugh man
Say one thing about families, say they're families..sigh.
What does one do with them? nothing save argue every once in awhile over prickly issues..
The problem is you'll always end up with a bigger share of guilt no matter what the arguments are about, which is why I step over a line only to a point from where it's easy to retract.
uhh man.. In this day and age of astronomy astrology is but a dinosaur..museum relic. To let something as big as planets and stars decide our fate, when they're absolutely oblivious to our existence, we harbour such grand delusions that it's in fact their alignment and positioning most handy in influencing personalities and futures.
Ah, but logic takes a backseat when it comes to such beliefs. Why I had a top level scientist uncle who had nothing but the highest reverence for such idiotic tripe..
Instead of imposing the importance of playing national anthems in movie halls they need to impose serious bans on kundli matching. God knows these are bigger ills our society faces, flinging it back to times when witch hunts were still a reality.. wait.. what am I saying? it still exists, along with honour killing, female infanticides and witch burnings.. perhaps if you look at it that way then kundli matching is just one among the many regressive acts still prevalent with a million adherents; yet thinking of it as just one of those societal peculiarities that can't be changed and letting it be as it is is accepting defeat and letting yourself be a part of this prejudice, when we carry on our shoulders a certain responsibility to lash out, rebel and make noise against such ridiculously conservative notions.
I guess a bit of anger, even a positive argument is in order.
hell, now I'm angry.
Gotta find an astrologer and beat the living daylights out of him.
Monday, 19 December 2016
Night night
A piece of night has broken and flown into my room, hovering overhead as a reminder most reproachful to sleep. Sleep again for oblivion beckons.
In a shroud of unknown to travel inside of a portal reserved for me, which fashions itself each day anew.
Traverse those roads, mystic tunnel of continuous changes and keep walking, stumbling, falling, bruising until there comes a time when I open my eyes to a moment come new in existence.
For each second is fresh, newly created and dead just as soon, never to be resurrected.
In thus dead pixels of time a silent dark wormhole of choosing to hike through at night.. dreams are not a promise, nightmares a luxury.
Tonight I sleep again..
In a shroud of unknown to travel inside of a portal reserved for me, which fashions itself each day anew.
Traverse those roads, mystic tunnel of continuous changes and keep walking, stumbling, falling, bruising until there comes a time when I open my eyes to a moment come new in existence.
For each second is fresh, newly created and dead just as soon, never to be resurrected.
In thus dead pixels of time a silent dark wormhole of choosing to hike through at night.. dreams are not a promise, nightmares a luxury.
Tonight I sleep again..
Rage rage rage
Phrases that I can't abide by
'Welcome to the club'
Why oh why? Are you so special, birthed from a dying constellation from the heart of an alternate nebula? Some peculiar incident that happened to you that leads you to believe you've the sole proprietorship of an oddity, the arrogance of which makes you say these words when someone else goes through similar happenings.
..so now you've a bleeding club, and you're the chairperson/ trustee/founding secretary/board of director that you welcome people who merely happen to intersect you through similar incident. Like you're the head of the club, and others are but poor imitation mortals who are now under your wing.
'Last but not the least'
Ah, drumroll for saying and saving something extraordinarily important for the last. Like, It might be last, but caution, it's so important it should have been first thing first.
So used to saying this are some people that even if the damned things is as unimportant as a fly's feaces they'd still say it.
'Calm down/relax/chill'
How about I punch you in the face for being a patronizing jackoff? How can someone else tell you how to feel at a moment, as if their asking you to chill will actually send some sort of enlightenment bolt through you and make you you relax.
It's infuriating to say the least.
Here's a thought, if someone's going through an emotional episode let them go about it, restrain them with a hug if need be and that's about it patronizing uncle.
'You should do this'
Wha?? I should? Really? Cuz you're god almighty pooping bejeweled turds and you've the rights granted by cosmos creator to say what one should and shouldn't do.
You should read this book, you should listen to this, you should talk to him, you should wear that.
Well you know what I should do? Give a well deserve thwack on your skull so that it's bent right in the middle and touching your spine, while your brains ooze out of your sphincter. That's what I really should do.
How about replacing should with 'perhaps you'd like' or 'would you like' or whatever that doesn't come across as you telling someone what they're supposed to do.
Phew..talk about letting out steam.
More phrase hatred out soon, whenever I hear one that begins to boil my blood to the point it rains red.
On his four legs
In return he leaves me gifts, little treasures to find. Tiny twigs that stay hidden in his thick fur, bits of roadside residue camouflaged in the greys of his skin, mud and dirt that begins flaking anew just as soon as Monsieur sets his cute rump on a blankets hump.
Did I mention his fur, one that he sheds around the house.. it sticks to my brooms and resides in vacuum bags. Little strands often grey, sometimes black and even white embed themselves in the fabric of sofas, towels and even clothes.
Tweezers to the rescue if I'm lucky that is.
A roll on contraption then, with a sticky tape that helps stick most of his so called lint and even that isn't as effective.
The cat drags in with him, remnants of a day gone by, moments of laughter and joy.
Somting
Black Sea was one of the better movies I've watched this year, in fact there are hardly any movies that escape my hawk eye movie radar if they're not rom com, drama or pathetic remake no one asked for, and submarine movies are cathartic to watch because of that claustrophobic angle which is among my greatest fears.
I do little television viewing, instead sticking to watching the million movies that for a part of our smart TV deal. Almost 2 movies a week, and sometimes 3 movies on a weekend. Yes I can be prone to as much lifelessness, and goody I'm not easily distracted nor do I feel the need to watch movies at super speed, cuz seriously, movie watching and then bitching or raving about them is one of the better joys.
--
Books on my radar
The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov.
I do little television viewing, instead sticking to watching the million movies that for a part of our smart TV deal. Almost 2 movies a week, and sometimes 3 movies on a weekend. Yes I can be prone to as much lifelessness, and goody I'm not easily distracted nor do I feel the need to watch movies at super speed, cuz seriously, movie watching and then bitching or raving about them is one of the better joys.
--
Books on my radar
The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov.
Pirate song
All right me hearties, I swap my bottle of rum for a mug of hot water and stay sweating in a pool of my own making arrr.
I'm a pirate in a standstill house and though I've no plank to ride I make do with planking for as long as I can me matey.
No parrot to sit on my shoulder but a cat who can meow into my heart, and my wooden leg is a sound one, very shapely too.
And I be havin' a bit of booty to boot what with all the squats and what not, me laddies.
Real time pirate with two working eyes, aye.. a motley crew of me own limbs working in perfect unison with the brains and sometimes not so good, but that's the whole fun of a standstill pirate life.
Living in my own Davy Jones' Locker don't you know, can't have no scallywag tellin' me what I can and can't do.
There's salt in my skin, and even though I'm landlocked currently, I let my soul float aboard a heart shaped sail, and away it goes out of sight until it's safely moored in paradise docks, its hull cranking under the weight of virtual kisses. Aye, that's what happens to me four chambered heart, pumped with good ol' love from a secret creature more fantastical than mermaids, aye.
I might not be swingin' from the mast, no crows nest on this ship. Shiver me timbers I don't need one arrr. I has a big broom longer than yon poles and an intuitive eye that ceases to function at times most important that serve as a crows nest, but ain't no icebergs in my sea, for my sea is made of wood and the only terror which this way comes is flesh and blood arrr, and ahoy I says to them ships, no funny business matey or I know a thing or two about climbing aboard and scuttling your terrible shippy excuse, I do.
As a pirate I hafta keep my decks clean, don't you know, can't have them rats spreading plague and turning vile the potions of aged elixirs I harbour in frigidariums, and mutinies do happen aye, but you gotta teach a good lesson to them funny fella who don't follow orders.
Fry them brains out with extra long siestas and liquid food, that teach 'em lesson in no time, arrr.
I'm a pirate in a standstill house and though I've no plank to ride I make do with planking for as long as I can me matey.
No parrot to sit on my shoulder but a cat who can meow into my heart, and my wooden leg is a sound one, very shapely too.
And I be havin' a bit of booty to boot what with all the squats and what not, me laddies.
Real time pirate with two working eyes, aye.. a motley crew of me own limbs working in perfect unison with the brains and sometimes not so good, but that's the whole fun of a standstill pirate life.
Living in my own Davy Jones' Locker don't you know, can't have no scallywag tellin' me what I can and can't do.
There's salt in my skin, and even though I'm landlocked currently, I let my soul float aboard a heart shaped sail, and away it goes out of sight until it's safely moored in paradise docks, its hull cranking under the weight of virtual kisses. Aye, that's what happens to me four chambered heart, pumped with good ol' love from a secret creature more fantastical than mermaids, aye.
I might not be swingin' from the mast, no crows nest on this ship. Shiver me timbers I don't need one arrr. I has a big broom longer than yon poles and an intuitive eye that ceases to function at times most important that serve as a crows nest, but ain't no icebergs in my sea, for my sea is made of wood and the only terror which this way comes is flesh and blood arrr, and ahoy I says to them ships, no funny business matey or I know a thing or two about climbing aboard and scuttling your terrible shippy excuse, I do.
As a pirate I hafta keep my decks clean, don't you know, can't have them rats spreading plague and turning vile the potions of aged elixirs I harbour in frigidariums, and mutinies do happen aye, but you gotta teach a good lesson to them funny fella who don't follow orders.
Fry them brains out with extra long siestas and liquid food, that teach 'em lesson in no time, arrr.
Options often
And a very good morning to you too loathsome weekday that doesn't really doesn't bother me so I'll stick to loving you instead.
What a day what a day. Significantly warmer than most days. In terms of weather. Not nearly as cold as yesterday and a better person might want to venture out and soak in the uncharacteristic winter warmth, but not me. No sir.
I shall indulge in a bit of vampiric lifestyle and stay indoors, hissing at the sun steering clear of crosses and fishing out my coffin or sarcophagi, whatever I may have on person..or better still, just embed myself in rumpled sheets and make a tent out of pillows and blankets. That's a poor mans Lestat for you my darling, but of course what am I if not indulgent which is why I shall content myself with drawing heavy curtains to keep out the light and whatever little happiness that might percolate..no, that's emo. I'll just stick to heavy drapery for sunlight, happiness is most welcome.
What am I going to do today, you well might ask, but the question is wrong If it's not asked in a multiple choice format.
There are indeed a multitude of options for what I shall, would and could do today, and of course I usually stick with the option D (none of the above) and safe as it may be it's also a big fat oblivious void that I usually find myself swallowed into each night and perhaps I should refrain from swimming into the horrific abyss of the damned void during the day, which is why I'll probably pick up the option A, as in Absolutely in love with you. Oh I kid I kid. Not about the loving part, but about option A part.
I will, my dear go with a B. Boring everything but gotta trudge on and do whatever seems pending, and a bit of procrastination is in order too.
Right, so B. Bogus yet all encompassing, which I rather look at as Binge watching.
Correct, so a bit of binge watching for option B is in order today.
What a day what a day. Significantly warmer than most days. In terms of weather. Not nearly as cold as yesterday and a better person might want to venture out and soak in the uncharacteristic winter warmth, but not me. No sir.
I shall indulge in a bit of vampiric lifestyle and stay indoors, hissing at the sun steering clear of crosses and fishing out my coffin or sarcophagi, whatever I may have on person..or better still, just embed myself in rumpled sheets and make a tent out of pillows and blankets. That's a poor mans Lestat for you my darling, but of course what am I if not indulgent which is why I shall content myself with drawing heavy curtains to keep out the light and whatever little happiness that might percolate..no, that's emo. I'll just stick to heavy drapery for sunlight, happiness is most welcome.
What am I going to do today, you well might ask, but the question is wrong If it's not asked in a multiple choice format.
There are indeed a multitude of options for what I shall, would and could do today, and of course I usually stick with the option D (none of the above) and safe as it may be it's also a big fat oblivious void that I usually find myself swallowed into each night and perhaps I should refrain from swimming into the horrific abyss of the damned void during the day, which is why I'll probably pick up the option A, as in Absolutely in love with you. Oh I kid I kid. Not about the loving part, but about option A part.
I will, my dear go with a B. Boring everything but gotta trudge on and do whatever seems pending, and a bit of procrastination is in order too.
Right, so B. Bogus yet all encompassing, which I rather look at as Binge watching.
Correct, so a bit of binge watching for option B is in order today.
Sunday, 18 December 2016
Stuff
What's for lunch?
Dum aloo, my mothers recipe too..because today I need to splurge a bit and eat something that isn't salad or steamed.
It is Sunday after all.
--
I haven't see the cat in almost two days and t worries me a bit.
Went looking out twice but no luck :(
--
Noticed an alarmingly odd fashion fad; that of getting eyebrows coloured in the same shade of hair and this trend seems to be catching on.
Blond asians with equally golden eyebrows..whut? Takes a bit to understand this confusion.
Not just blond, brown, auburn or whatever colour that their head sports.
Uh. This trend needs to die a quick death.
--
More, soon
Dum aloo, my mothers recipe too..because today I need to splurge a bit and eat something that isn't salad or steamed.
It is Sunday after all.
--
I haven't see the cat in almost two days and t worries me a bit.
Went looking out twice but no luck :(
--
Noticed an alarmingly odd fashion fad; that of getting eyebrows coloured in the same shade of hair and this trend seems to be catching on.
Blond asians with equally golden eyebrows..whut? Takes a bit to understand this confusion.
Not just blond, brown, auburn or whatever colour that their head sports.
Uh. This trend needs to die a quick death.
--
More, soon
Yuck yuck dreams
Lurid dreams that wake you in a sweat, alarmingly close to a nightmare and so real as to curdle a stream of warm blood running free on your insides.
A rare dream granted it is, but when exam dreams appear they threaten to be no less menacing than the act of exams itself, especially when you're ill prepared or not prepared at all..
I reached school as one would, jovial in a hop skip and saw a very old dear friend wearing a warm jacket. So happy was I to see him that not only did I slip an arm around him but also kissed him with a loud smack on his cheek, and he gleamed at me with happiness. We reached the school gates and I entered my class where I realized we have two cycle tests.
One was physics and one was Hindi.
Gasps galore.
I had not the slightest idea. Nor had I prepared for even a single one.
What was the syllabus? I thought I'd study a bit in the zero period, but only fools harbour the illusion that they could study an entire syllabus worth in a zero period, moreover that was when the tests would be held.
To say that my sheet was a gaping blank would be mildly putting it, for it was cleaner than my conscience and I remembered why I didn't study for the test, because there was some wedding happening at my house.
Psst, I asked another friend.
Let me cheat from you. And through all this I was breaking into a sweat in my dream as well as my sleep.
My friend told me she'd sit in a diagonal posture to let me see whatever she had written.
Right, I said, And began to jot down whatever she'd written. Most of it was a combo of A and more A's.
It made no sense but I copied as much as I could, but the hawk eyed teacher made her change her posture and there I sat, with only a few answers jotted down.
The rest of the sheet still blank.
I didn't know what to do, even worse that there would be another test.
I scared myself awake, and threw away my duvets and saw myself in cold sweat.
Gah, what a horrid dream.
A rare dream granted it is, but when exam dreams appear they threaten to be no less menacing than the act of exams itself, especially when you're ill prepared or not prepared at all..
I reached school as one would, jovial in a hop skip and saw a very old dear friend wearing a warm jacket. So happy was I to see him that not only did I slip an arm around him but also kissed him with a loud smack on his cheek, and he gleamed at me with happiness. We reached the school gates and I entered my class where I realized we have two cycle tests.
One was physics and one was Hindi.
Gasps galore.
I had not the slightest idea. Nor had I prepared for even a single one.
What was the syllabus? I thought I'd study a bit in the zero period, but only fools harbour the illusion that they could study an entire syllabus worth in a zero period, moreover that was when the tests would be held.
To say that my sheet was a gaping blank would be mildly putting it, for it was cleaner than my conscience and I remembered why I didn't study for the test, because there was some wedding happening at my house.
Psst, I asked another friend.
Let me cheat from you. And through all this I was breaking into a sweat in my dream as well as my sleep.
My friend told me she'd sit in a diagonal posture to let me see whatever she had written.
Right, I said, And began to jot down whatever she'd written. Most of it was a combo of A and more A's.
It made no sense but I copied as much as I could, but the hawk eyed teacher made her change her posture and there I sat, with only a few answers jotted down.
The rest of the sheet still blank.
I didn't know what to do, even worse that there would be another test.
I scared myself awake, and threw away my duvets and saw myself in cold sweat.
Gah, what a horrid dream.
Saturday, 17 December 2016
Smidgens of a day
Pic 1 city wall
Pic 2 lit up bridge in a park
Pic 3 bottle brush trees
Pic 4 pagoda at night
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