Lucid naps

A lazy afternoon riddled with secret disappointments and what do you do? 

Against my better judgement I ended up napping a good one hour. Is it a nap if it's one hour or proper sleep? 

God knows I don't nap/sleep during afternoons. It's just not in my constitution but today felt different. In between pages of moving pictures I found myself asleep and in between those fleeting zzz's I had the weirdest lucid dream. 

I was riding a bike and it wasn't a cycle it was a motorcycle. 

Yeah I mean me? On a motorbike? But yeah and I was riding it as nonchalantly as I'd ride my mountain bike through cities, and because it was a lucid dream I was riding through wind like ghost rider.

 

I ran my bike up a mountain on almost vertical roads and it ran faster than light and boy was it gliding on sharp turns, almost floating full speed ahead on the slightest road curves. I passed through a thunderstorm that blew dried leaves on my face, and every time I wanted to break to stop my bike, it'd just slow down ever so subtly and avoid whatever it is that I was trying to avoid. 

It almost felt like I was manning a steel bodied tuft of clouds and then a sharp ring emanated from somewhere below me. It started as a jingle and turned into an ear splitting ring that wouldn't stop. My phone was ringing..a recorded voice that spoke in my ears of the special offers  I could avail.

 

I tried sleeping/napping to go back to flying but my throat was parched. I leafed through my phone ferociously..looking for something only I know.

|||—|||

Is it not odd that in the matters of our own heart we're answerable to the world. 

A stupid organ that resides in our own body, pumping blood that we're the sole proprietor of and yet when it wants, yearns and pines we completely ignore it and whip out a mental calculator and start factoring and adding in all the people this vital organ might hurt from feeling more than it should. 

Ah this new found hate for social constructs and my undying wish to choke the life out of its integrity while mocking this artifice with every conceivable Neanderthal code of conduct.

This idiotic notion of chaste nobility and ethics needs to be drowned in soulless dark tar of real pain, amoral heart beats and unrestrained love. 

Winged and way to go

they begin to fly

before they die

their death in an orgasm

Male ants 

ferociously beating their wings 

chasing their queen

preening their wings

In a final fit of last sigh

genitalia exploding

egg fertilized

that glorious flight

where one mate died

the queen resigns

in a colony of drone ants

the queen resides 

In the world of ugh add another

Casting Scarlet Johannsen as Major Kusanagi is like casting Danny de Vito as superman.

The only person who can be major Kusanagi is Motoko herself. You can't replicate that anime perfection in live action. 

Motoko Kusanagi is 200 pounds of kickass prosthetic body perfection who commands Public security section 9 and is one of the most genius war machines ever. She's every awesome thing combined in a highly intelligent, well trained and capable body that's pure love. 

Stand alone complex 1& 2nd gig were sheer out of the world fuckballs amazing!! 

Kusanagi jumps off flying helicopters on building roofs, annihilates dozens of men with sheer battle tactics all on her own, brain hijacks people and even hacks eyes, slithers into consciousness through brain wave hack..I mean there's nothing she can't do! 

No one can be her except herself. An anime GITS movie would have been so much more welcome. 

Nuff said

open my mouth and decide to say nothing

Yet I always do, something exaggeratedly true; meant for you

tighten my heart and avert my gaze

cease to think for that fraction of a phase that comes and goes 

where I hold my soul true

finishing line is a blur

It disappears, for I fall off my course

into a bed of delicious rotten fruits

that are sinful sweet

they disintegrate your soul

under a fan, near a window, in a rocky yellow greenish jungle

take a tumble

like jack & Jill would never know 

satin thick coat of humble

tattered and torn dressed in shambles

sprinting away on a concrete road

that looks molten from afar

like a shimmering pool of water

a damn fine mirage

or an oasis of wishes that came true in a genie lamp 

wade into an unreal pond

of liquid phantasm

optical illusion of the universe

a magic 

a volcano of warmth

that chars your skin

makes you believe 

it's a delicious sun tan. 

The world revolvers around boredom

Oh the things I find while fiddling around the house..

The things I find at their most useless.

 

Sea bed

The dead look at the world through our eyes. 

They leave tiny imprints on our DNA. Passing on their eccentricities, noses, lips and neurological damage. 

They might be dead, our dearly departed dead ancestors, but really they're not. 

We are them now. 

It's hot hot hot. But not oppressive. 

When the wind blows in some direction it gets trapped in window panels and makes this strange noise that sounds like waves on a beach. 

And siting on my bed, I hear that noise and it feels like I'm ankle deep in soft grainy sand..balmy breeze with a pulse of just started air conditioning..lightly clothed I stand on some sea shore without the sea of course or even the shore.

So strange and lovely.

Choking squares with metaphysical squiggles.

No matter how much you shake an hourglass the sand flows at a steady pace. 

Perhaps I can change the texture of the glass and make it into a prism. And then we shall see how the river of time is clouded with rainbows. 

A spectacular view to a mundane flow! 

Just because it's mundane doesn't mean  it's not spectacular. 

I mean baby, you can spectacularify the hum drums of your toneless life with some extraordinary daily activities..and these include imagining stuff..making up fantasies and dreaming things you could only dream of. 

Being a part of all of them, living them for those few zoned out seconds..Physics laws do not apply!

Dull routine? Got a whole lot of nothing to do and screw doing anything else too? 

well here's a cure for you my darling dream

cuz doing absolutely nothing is fuckballs supreme \m/

so why do anything? 

when you could do absolutely nothing 

and live in a glazed gleam

You could be obscure in them 

or even be a star 

a hero or that mystery villain

of protoplasmic war

at moments when you know you've got nothing to do 

what the fuck is where

what the fuck is who 

sitting in a wooden armed chair

you know that time of the day

when there's time you could shoo!

What do you do?

A whole lot of stuff while doing nothing at all. Live in moments you'd never experience; mould them as you'd want. Add in some lovelorn things on an alien planet, and a mysterious sergeant hell bent on killing six legged queens. they've no one to save them, and that's when you step in..riding on a shark fin..but you end up mutilating them all and marrying their dog ( you suddenly wake up. T'was a dream) and other such similar bearings. 

Sometimes, you never realize that you've got a whole lot of something to do which in reality however is really just nothing. A whole lot of something that's actually a cloak for nothing! 

and when it's nothing, you day dream while doing everything. Float through the dreadful mist of everyday meh on pink clouds that feel like feathers and taste of mint. 

G'day

We're so used to eating shit cakes that we actually look forward to it. 

Our collective benchmark as a country has been so lowered in everything that we're fine with the worst of services, worst living standards worst everything..to the point that even our appreciation for standard of humour is hitting rock bottom. 

We are apparently okay with the worst of worst and since we're okay with that no one gives a fuck to actually take the initiative to improve their worsening lot. 

So the worst stays in static, to the point that it evolves to become a part of our existing Eco system and we are okay with that too cuz seriously who really gives a fuck? And then that shit stays in our Eco system and we evolve to not bother and in fact like whatever shit it gives us. 

Who the fuck wants to take an effort man? 

Whoever wants to get their work done has to wade through this quagmire of no fucks and achieve whatever small daily goals in their life or a task set out for that day might be. 

It's like let me do nothing and pay me still cuz who wants to work man? 

To hell with all! 

The weather forecast is scalding solar flares of wishful longing with a possibility of balmy evening breeze of cheerful soul mocking. 

What do I see

The kind of heat that doesn't have a bite

its red, it's hot, it's totally white

drier than fire

with an effulgence glare

yet

once you're indoors

under a fan in shadows of drawn curtains

clad in crisp cool cotton

there's none a stress to bear

not a drop of moisture

in the breathtaking clean air

like an ocean vast it's blue above

and sun kissed yellow lies below

with a few drops of summer trees

the babool kinds..that fit this scenery

in an odd geographical location 

of plentiful plains

odd vegetation terrain

shrubs and mazes of grass

sapling and teak trees

and rocky grounds galore

mud that resembles golden brass

oh and black cotton soil

all around

my view isn't much..

just scatterings of mud and splotches of green 

in the middle of nowhere of the middle of nowhere

kinda like an absent minded submarine 

but instead of water

there's air

in this arid jungle of thistle and woe 

and mud and rocks that look rusted yellow

we don't have neighbours knocking on doors for sugar to spare 

the nearest beauty salon is miles from nowhere

but there are lakes

so many so vast so close

what do I care

it's hot outside but cool inside

and washed hair feels luxurious

for there's no dust

no layers of sooty smut

the whites look white

the green looks green

the hot solar flare

disguised as breezy air

is breathtakingly clean. 

<>

Just the perfect imperfections I was looking for.

crisp white papers bedewd with drops of molten wax..that starts from glossy and ends up turning matte; delicately when you push the tip of your finger on the just set soft surface..you leave behind the visible ridges of your fingerprints. 

You're such a comfortable liar

What'd I do if it weren't for Dethklok? They live in my Walkman.  

Decided to fill my Walkman to the brim with all the unknown unheard music I have. 

You know how it is you when download a list of discographies..when you Listen to some forget about some, and these songs keep piling for years and get cleverly concealed in the overpopulated music section. 

Until one day you decide to trash some music..specifically the 'once loved but now hated' music from your machine and that's when you have a digital déjà vu  and sort of remember lot of names you don't remember listening to. 

You also notice those musicians whom you love for those few songs you remember and you can't recall the rest of the possibly good stuff they made..so you blindly drag all those unheard, strange named songs of bands you forget, and names you never heard. 

Also pulling into this mix are blindly assorted songs that came highly highly majestically recommended and how could you turn those down. 

So you push in those names too, until your Walkman is crammed to its wired gills. 

And this is when the fun starts..when you drown the world into a strange song you've heard for the first time and you listen to it so intently, cuz you came totally trip prepared..inhaling every caution to make it trippy.

And all these new songs in a medley of  confused assortments..this mix has everything baby and it promises to penetrate your aural openings with a surprise maneuver. 

-/)

Why am I totally lovin' 'getcha groove on' by Limp Bizkit. Totally tripping balls. 

Imma getcha my groove on and do absolutely nothing my dearies. 

Journey

I've been sleeping in this mistake called train and only woke up when they were something ghastly that they called lunch. 

But we came armed to the teeth with good food. Enough to feed 10. 

 

A couple hours more and I will push through, until then it's sleepy time. 

I've ensconced myself in a long scarf, so that I'm concealed..I can't see anyone, and no one can see me.

that noise

' I live on the top floor and I know there isn't anyone on the terrace'

This isn't a new occurrence.
That which I'm about to divulge today.
This has been going on since the time we moved into this house from years back.

'The ceiling fans in my house start talking after a while.'

Yeah. They start talking. You wouldn't realize, feel or even listen the first few months and in some cases not ever notice it.
But there are some who hear it and that's me and my brother.
It doesn't happen everyday or at one at a time. It can happen just anytime to any ceiling fan that you happen to be under your living room.
It might be middle afternoon, and you're alone in a sort of cooled room in this heat, and you happen to switch on a fan and get back to your regular mundane..could be anything.typing, eating, reading or just lazing someplace where you can hear the fan overhead and know it's spinning.

You're about your work and you realize you can hear something from very far off, you don't know what it is. Could be the blades of the fan, and you rest with that. Of course the blades of the fan are the ones making the noise you hear, but in that noise somewhere from a tunnel you can hear a voice.

You know its coming from some space between the blades of the fan just when they're about to splice through air, it's from that far..but it's there and you continue to singularly try and hear that..you're doing your work sure, but you tune your chochlear nerve to listen to that one sound and drown out the noise. You listen to that sound which started as a garble from a distant mile now turn into noises that are emitted out of signals that are trying to speak.

The ceiling fans are filtering out radio like noise in sentences in a sexless signal tone. There are words, but none that you can decipher, because the signals are not very clear. The sentences are still a garble but can pick up the voice and that there are some words coming out in an unvarying
broadcasting tone.
They're coming in a hum but they're there and the more you listen on intently the more you can hear. The words still a mush but the voices distinct broadcasts of spoken words in signal tones.

What? what? you listen in deep, what can I hear, and after a while it gets so loud, and still undecipherable. The words bleary, indiscernible. But it's there alright.  You can hear it and now it's scary.
 'I can hear something, what is it? who's there? what's going on?' and now I can't drown that sound in the noise of my house. I could hear the ceiling fan noise, but now I hear voices too, and it gets so eerie that I turn off the fan.

When I turn it on after a while, I listen hard, intent, attentive, concentrated and I hear nothing.
Nothing at all.
It'd have nothing to say for days or even weeks..until suddenly you're off sleeping in your bedroom and suddenly somewhere between just about to sleep and still almost awake you hear that noise.

---

There's so much weird science fiction in Thor and yet people of Asgard travel on horses. 

This movie feels like a cosplay theatre. 

-/\-

Idris Alba is like the elite movie obligatory black guy. 

Caked in your heart ~<\>

A fruit & nut spiced cake..Topped with a pine nut quarry..because it's a wonderful day today..a beautiful day to be in a haze of labyrinthine maze of sweet smooch. 

Summer escape roundups

One of those things I absolutely love to do in summers to keep me cool is freeze a lot of watermelon pieces in the freezer and put those frozen pieces into a blender and whizz the mixer on max until all frozen watermelon is an insanely awesome watermelon slushie/smoothie. No added sugar, no nothing. Just watermelon in its frozen glory. 

Today

It's three days after that I've been here that I'm finally beginning to feel the heat. I didn't feel it full on when I reached here on 8th, probably because I'd been experiencing  such a different temperature for the most part of the last year and this, that Delhi heat almost felt exotic..new. 

Sure I'ts nothing new to me, but after so many years in another place you tend to forget what May can be like in the capital.

When I reached here it was hot, but I didn't mind that heat, simply because it felt completely new and different. Everything about this furnace felt new and I couldn't bring myself to hate it. 

Since the time I've been here, evenings tend to mellow into a pleasant breeze that isn't cold but pleasant in a light breezy warm way. 

Somehow today, that I'm sitting in my room..listening to Nujabes, flinging words in the abyss that I suddenly felt a trickle of sweat steering down my backbone, before disappearing into the fabrics of my cotton clothing skin.

I realized that I'm sorta sweating. There's a bit of moisture on my face, the roots of my hair feel bedewd, and I have a sudden urge to turn on the air conditioning. 

Feelings

All aboard my flights of fancy. 

They take you everywhere and nowhere. 

did you

Did you know I'm up and running on suedesoap.blogspot.com  with my stories and poems?

Did you know I just had lunch at a nearby Muslim restaurant and they serve pork? This is a sure sign of progress and apocalypse my darlings.

Did you know I've been thinking of writing a poem since morning and all I can think of is whether or not I should eat that one doughnut that's in the fridge?

Did you know..?..of course you do.

on the dirt trail and killing time..finding things

Well, whaddya know? I've got a brand new internet connection that's supposedly fast..at least thats what they said on the packet..and I'm taking this baby for a trial run.

With few things to do in my new house, there isn't much unpacking to do considering my packed boxes haven't reached here yet..so cleaning was my only and not to mention my favourite option and past time. Come on, you've shifted into a new house you gotta do a spot of cleaning.
Since yesterday I've cleaned my house thrice- top to bottom, and each time I find something new to clean that was overlooked in the previous cleanliness endeavor..like a new dirt revelation. (How fun [eye roll]) In my cleanliness drive I have uncovered a few many items that the previous renters have left behind..just the way some new renters in our previous house will find a few too many items that we've left behind.

So based on these items and myriad of things that I've uncovered I've come to figure out a bit more of the previous tenants.

I know for a fact that they were a Japanese couple.

How you ask?

1) My first theory that this place was previously occupied by a couple.

• There's an exercise table in the house..obviously it's too bulky to lug around..so it was rather unceremoniously left behind. Bang right in the middle of the living room, and along with it was a number of dumb bells and weights. 
• There are a number of tool boxes and half finished wooden projects.
• men sized t-shirts and men's socks'

- I can safely assume that a man lived here

• There are a number of scented candles
• A lot of crafts tape and sewing materials
• women's hair in the vacuum cleaner left behind (the vacuum cleaner was in a pretty bad condition and I've thus sacrificed it to the technology valhalla)
• women's hairbands

- I can safely assume there was a woman

And the biggest giveaway was a couples bathrobe abruptly left hanging in one of the bathrooms.

2) My second theory that this place was previously occupied by a Japanese couple.

• Well, there are a lot of Japanese folks living in this neighbourhood
• a number of dead tech from obscure Japanese company is left behind
• lot of knick knacks and adornments around the house are Japanese
• left behind are some cookware that are exclusively used in Japanese cooking.
• Japanese style house slippers

- I can safely assume they were a Japanese couple.

3) My third theory that they might have had a child too.

• One of the rooms has a really cute single bed
• A nifty study table which isn't exactly the professional kinds but rather a school going child types.
• a small writing board that has both black and white boards
• Glue marks on the wall of this room which indicates there might have been some posters here.
• A 'happy mother's day' mug
• found a leftover kids bubble bath in one of the bathrooms

- I can only kinda assume that there was a child.

other things I've learnt about this couple

• they were Ikea fetishists.
• They'd travelled to Australia (there are a lot of Australian souvenirs)
• The man was a pilot (I found aviation forms and an airline logo broach )
• they were pretty health conscious and neat
• they were totally into DIY

So, yeah this is what I've figured out in the past couple days. 

Yeah, I've so much nothing to do I'm Sherlocking my time here. 

...soon..

New things

8:00 am from my new house, while I sit on the sofa and contemplate what to do next? I moved in yesterday, cleaned a bit, cooked nothing, and there's still a bit more to do today. 

Clean the Windows, scrub the kitchen platforms and because our truck with the real stuff hasn't arrived yet, I've nothing to do save imagine where everything goes. 

I've hypothetically filled in the cabinets with all the clothes, found spice racks and stuffed them full with jars and bottles of condiments and herbs, filled up my pantry and stacked all utensils, decorated the interiors with knick knacks and souvenirs and draped the news beds with my crisp linen beddings..in my imagination this house is a fully functioning casa Salama..in reality I've no utensils to even start cooking etc etc. 

There are a few repair works that will gradually happen over the course of stay, some bulbs needs screwing, holes need drilling, racks need fitting..and few things I'm pretty sad about..like the stuff we left back in our previous house..our pretty dining table, ironing board, kettle, rice cooker, wooden cabinet, my plants; my beautiful Amazonian forest of delicate flowers and tender new leaves, my beautiful pots birthing new streams of greenery (:(:(:() and some more..I might get sad talking about it.

My consolation prize are the new paintings hung all over the house, a bulky dining table which isn't a shade on my earlier wooden table, a dainty balcony and a vintage clock. Sigh..this is my home now and I mean to make the best of it. 

The area is pretty fabulous so that's a big big plus..and what else do I tell myself to not miss my earlier wee town and it's wonderful people? 

This city will need getting used to.

The new bed will need getting used to as well because man oh man I didn't sleep well. I kept dreaming that I'm having trouble sleeping..if that isn't inception stuff then I don't know what is.

I've been meaning to write and update my blogs, finish a few pending stories, give life to some that I've been thinking of..but no! I don't even have Internet as of now..moving can be tiring. What with the packing, and shifting and the hauling and the carrying of so many things from one place to another, I've not only lost tracking time but my sanity as well. 

And then it was the massive cleaning yesterday. Gah, I've called a housekeeper to help with the windows and balcony because heaven knows I'll have a meltdown if I'm left alone with anymore work.

My entire body is aching in so many places that I'll have to do one of those contortionist body jumble to fix it.

Kettles that bubble with boiling water while spouting steam.

I've been in a sort of boxed haze. Packing is more tiring than running a marathon. You can't begin to realize when, how and where did you end up amassing so much stuff that needs a hundred odd boxes. 

Boxes for everything. For tiny knick knacks and cutesy kitch stuff to utensils and bedding..and don't even get me started on clothes. So many clothes and all I've been wearing is sweat pants and a tee for the past couple days. 

Everything's almost done, and if all goes well then tomorrow we shall spirit away to Shanghai in afternoon. 'If all goes well' being the keyword, because my kitchen is still to get packed..and my bicycles are yet to be dismantled and packed. 

I'm no hoarder and it's not funny the amount of stuff that's been a part of discarded boxes. 

Shoes that no longer look good, crockery that's lost its sheen, cutlery that's lost its charm, bottles that've lost their caps and clothes that no longer fit or just don't feel right anymore. 

So much apple junk! Gah, what a lot of useless silver gadgets with shiny screens.  A mistake I mean to rectify over the coming time. I shall soon be a window convert or at least anything that isn't apple. 

I'd the weirdest dream: that I was cycling in a narrow carpeted corridor after solving linear equations that's didn't even look like linear equations.