For Want Of A Better World

I'm back. Blogger's way better than wordpress.

My Blog has been shifted to: http://longsentences.wordpress.com/ this includes the last post, so please leave any comments there :) till then, farewell blogspot!

There were just the two of us there that night, singing us songs of love and loneliness, songs we had never sung before, songs that probably no one had heard either. We didn’t know, it was all just there in the air, somewhere. Maybe between the sullen bartender and the glass of pink champagne, which looked more golden than pink. Maybe it was because her hair kept brushing past its surface, or maybe it was my face, I really couldn’t tell. All I could think to myself was that she was here today and that I had another blunt in my raincoat, right where I kept my wallet. And then they kicked us out, and the blunt was gone, and the wallet was gone, and it started raining and I found out that they had taken my raincoat. I remember I was cursing them and trying to break down their door and that was when I heard her laughing. I think she was also shouting something about us being on the other street but then why would I go and try to break down a door I didn’t want to break down and so I went t...

It’s a desert out here. Nothing but dust, cigarette butts and smoking ruins. As I sit here on the mountaintop of a grey, fast dwindling existence, I try to remember how it was that I ended up here, like this. Growing up, there always used to be this one motto: “Sticks and Stones won’t break My Bones; My Mom says I’m Quite Healthy” You could do whatever you wanted to; go wherever you wished, as long as mom said you were allowed to wish so. Running around the neighbourhood as a young, obedient little tyke, it wasn’t long before I realised that there really was no reason why mom should tell YOU to stay within the 4-street block and go out herself every single day, especially when those little ragamuffin friends of yours were so quick and so consistent in pointing this out. I took my first step outside the block into the alley way one day and it was the first time I got pummelled by street toughs. So, mother was right; but this had to be a one-off thing. Why would she scream at me then, if...

After a long sojourn, I sense a feeling of satisfaction in me when I state that I’ve finally regained a measure of my old self. Socially Deceased perhaps being the always unattainable idyllic phrase, perhaps Socially Withdrawn is something more akin to what I’ve achieved. It took some time because I have allowed myself to distance myself from people by associating with them more professionally than personally, and such a shift comes with its associated penalty. I do not think any better of my life, but I do feel a sense of emancipation when I sense prison bars being lifted from the confines of my mind and turning into an absolute, impermeable cage a fourteenth of an inch from my skin. I shall not pretend to fully understand why, after all this, I’m posting again; but such as it is, I believe an explanation was required to the few who read the last one. This shall not be the last post here; in fact, there shall be many more in the time to come. I shall endeavour, however, to limit the o...

My life is a sham. A sham in which I fool the people I associate with into associating with someone who is not really me. A sham in which I fool myself into being someone I'm not, to the extent that I don't even know which side of me is real anymore. On my behalf, I don't do this consciously; but at the end of the day I can't deny that that is exactly what I'm doing. I use language that changes with the person or group I'm conversing with; I lie about or hide my past (the one I care about) in order to make it seem more in agreement with the current state of affairs; analyse things no one really cares about and write stuff nobody has read to tell people that I have an identity that, I guess, is not really me. I read and get inspired by literary and philosophical greats in a world where I believe strictly in their ideologies that I know I don't even loosely adhere to. I steal words and expressions from people I am close to and use them on other people to get a...

Okay, the key to the solution is one premise, the premise being that a lot of people feel the same way at certain points in their life. By feeling the same way, I mean a feeling of insecurity towards the state of affairs in the not-so-distant future and a complacent sense of security when one looks back in the past, particularly the Dark Ages, where progress was at a standstill, compared to what it is today. The present seems all right, liveable, even enjoyable; but the future? Who knows what that might bring? So many things could go wrong; a nuclear winter might just happen, democracy might be thrown away for despotism, George Bush might not get his head out of his ass and supply some oxygen to his asphyxiated brain. But take a moment to think what the people back then were wondering when thinking of their future. Issues such as the king might be murdered, a gang of bandits might just ravage their town, no rain for the harvest, whatever. All I’m saying is that the future shall always ...