Houdini

I think people have started to wonder where I’ve disappeared off to.

But why wouldn’t I? My tales of melancholy, and depression aren’t entertaining enough anymore. I’ve lost comments and followers faster than I lose other things. And I lose things really fast. Sometimes I think I’m working on losing them. But that’s not the point.

I have nothing else to write about, really. I can’t publish fiction after fiction, just to please the masses. There’s this thin faded line in my life, that separates the fiction from the non-fiction, and sometimes I can’t tell the difference either.

And I can’t just write about being happiness. Not when I see no ultimate point in anything at all. Anything at all. Life, college, socializing, and public relations. Anything…

And it’s not my fault, really. I just don’t care anymore. About anything at all, really. I mean, I’m trying to, I really am … it’s not that I’ve just given up … but I don’t know what else to do.

But here’s how you can help; stop expecting shit. Seriously. From me. I’m as far from perfect as the sky is from the ground. I can’t please and entertain all the time. I know my life could be chronicled as a trilogy of books that would outsell Twilight, but seriously.

Something crazy must always happen. Shit must always hit the fan. Well, I’ve done that for a very long time, and I want to keep on the low for just a little while. It’s not that things have slowed down – it’s just that I’m not writing about it anymore. Because apparently it’s getting too dull. Not for me though, I still have my hands full.

It’s also that I can’t write about everything on the internet. Just won’t be a good idea. For me, of course. All of you would just love all of it. I’m pretty sure. Because it’s nothing short of a soap opera, my life, really.

But as the world turns I learned life is hell
Living in the world no different from a cell

Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess
I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed
But I'm still depressed, and I ask “what's it worth?”
Ready to give up so I seek the Old Earth
Who explained working hard may help you maintain
to learn to overcome the heartaches and pain…

- C.R.E.A.M. (Cash Rules Everything Around Me)
Inspector Deck, Wu Tang Clan

But it just doesn’t work that way. I wish it did, but as I said earlier – the knowing is driving me insane. and I don’t have the advantage of stupidity.

But I guess you don’t want to read about that anymore, because I’ve already said it so many times – over and over. And over.

So, just wait for a miracle to take place, then. Maybe I’ll witness enlightenment and find joy in life or something. Yeah. Then I can write about rainbows and sunlight and other happy things.

Yeah.

Myself to think about.

What is this obsession I have with loneliness?

It's the only thing I seem to attract the most.

All the fake faces. Acquaintances. Friends. And with nothing to show or feel comfortable next to at the end of the day. Except the cold hard exterior of myself, with an internal void so deep ... a thought process so shallow ...

At the end of the day, with nothing or no one to turn to.

I must do this to myself. There is no other explanation.

And then I get labeled lucky. Do you see why I have a problem with that term? Luck?

The grass is always greener on the other side to you fucking sheeple. Always.

You are forced to label things, it's just how our petty minds work. Right? To make things convenient for ourselves, it's just another step we have to take. Absolutely have to.

Does it ever really occur to you, why things are how they are?

Do you ever try thinking about it? Or thinking at all, for that matter?

About what or how other people feel, maybe. What goes on in their mind?

Maybe, if you weren't so fucking busy crying over your own story.

Well, guess what. Everyone's got a story to tell, and I'm tired of lending my ears and shoulders.

Think of the mistakes of others as your own for a change, and you'll realize how fucking terrible you all really are.

As far as I'm concerned - you can go fuck yourself.

And THEN I'll be lucky. When I really, REALLY, have just myself to worry about.

Aeden Durante’s Inferno

[La Commedia di Aiden]

"My name is Aiden. That’s all the personal information I’m going to share. Even if the rest of my story seems even more personal then my name, you won’t know for certain who I am. Or how my mind works. You can try, though. I know I have, it just never seems to work. Figure myself out, I mean. I can’t do it. Maybe you can.

Let me tell you a bit more about myself. Make things just a little more easier for you.

I realized at a very young age, how stupid everyone can be. And even though I realize stupidity and intelligence are subjective to judge or classify people by, I still hold the deep thought, that everyone could’ve been smarter. Maybe it’s just the fact, that everyone has their eyes so tightly closed. That they can’t see things for what or how they really are.

I’m void of most human emotions. I don’t necessarily feel sorry for people. Don’t most of the time, in fact. I try to, but it never seems to work. I’m narcissistic. I love myself. I have a huge ego. I don’t care much about what other people think, or about other people at all, really. I don’t care about much, in general, in fact.

I don’t think there are innocent people. I don’t think there are guilty people. I just think there are people that do things people like, and then things people don’t like. And if you’re caught with the bad end of the stick, then it probably is your fault somehow. If you really have to blame someone, I believe it should be divided equally at the middle, for everyone.

I don’t think I have it in me to love people. Or fall in love. I don’t generally believe in the whole idea or concept, really. I believe people are stupid for believing the text book definition of love. It’s things like shakespeare plays which make fools out of us.

I truly believe that the only thing that really makes me happy, is a lot of money. And spending a lot of money. Not just on myself, though. Just in general. Spending money on other people makes me happy too. Not as much as spending it on myself does, but you get the idea, right? I’m not very stingy with money. I don’t mind passing it along, if I have enough to keep myself happy.

But sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever have enough to keep me happy. See, human beings don’t like being happy it seems. I solely believe that too. I believe we want wars, and to be depressed and sad. It makes much more sense.

I see people’s weaknesses clearly as soon as I meet them. I can read people inside out. Know how they feel about things. Deduce their habits, their way of thinking. Figure out what I can do to offend them. Figure out what I can do to be on their best side. Figure out what I can do, to manipulate them. It’s very easy, really. Minutes after meeting you, I’ll know exactly what it is you’re looking for in the world. And then I can pretend to give it to you … so you can give me what I want.

I believe no matter how much a person has, there is always something missing. And you give someone that, and you’re basically holding them in the palm of your hand. No matter who the person is. Everyone wants something.

But the problem is , I don’t know what I want. I’ve tried figuring it out. But I really can’t tell. Because I don’t think it’s ever possible for anyone to be completely happy or content. So maybe I’ve given up on trying.

All I know is.. I’ve consumed a lot of pain and suffering for things that were both my fault, and weren’t my fault. And now I feel it ok to pass it on. Share the hurt. Inflict the pain so you can see it too.

For what doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.

And I think you should appreciate me trying to make you stronger."

How far from the past.

I asked my mom where all my old books were, and she told me. So I decided to go take a look after all this while … after too long, really …

All my books from my childhood … most of them belonged to my dad. And most of them, probably too inappropriate for a child to be reading. But them being the only books I could get my hands on at that age, I didn’t let that stop me.

All the books I furiously went through during my growing up … as if I was looking for something specific, but keeping everything I was coming across with me, just in case. And it’s all stuck, even if you can’t see it. But it’s all I consist of.

Books whose pages will fall apart in a few more years. But I really hope they don’t. They smell like … they smell like years and years of knowledge. Information. Tales of human suffering, love, triumph, revenge, happiness … and my childhood, of course. All of it.

The pages have turned several shades of brown, and the dust sticks to your fingertips. I sat there, smiling. And I don’t know why I was smiling, but I was. I just sat there staring at them for a while. Then running my fingers through all of them … and as many pages as I could. And then flipping through the pages, and sniffing the insides. –sigh-

I remember reading this detective novel about a murder. The Screaming Virgin, it was called, I think. Because it started with a naked female standing on a rooftop, screaming.  I think I was 13 or 14 when I read it. Yeah.

All my old encyclopedias. Colorful books, with drawings I did inside. Ruined them, pretty much. But read them while ruining them, so it kinda worked out. Cooking books I used to stare inside as a child. I used to stare into any book you hand me. For hours and hours. Because they were the only things I really owned when I was little.

I would lay on the floor and stare inside a book, every other day. Sometimes the same one, over and over again.

Now my mind is occupied with things that don’t matter as much. A part of growing up to nothingness I guess. We all do it, don’t we?

I’m diagnosed with ADHD by the way. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. In case you don’t already know. You probably do.

Add that to the list.

I’m going to go insane, I can see it now. I just hope it takes some time.

I have started tumbling. I guess, that’s what it should be called? Here’s my Tumblr.

Sitting down with all my old books in my hands, I felt like the Danish I seem to have lost somewhere down the road.

You know, the optimist that thought the world was a happy place. Where you should be all right as long as you treat everyone all right.

Yeah, the Danish who had his eyes closed just like all the sheeple of the world. Like what I did there? I’m going to do it more often, just a heads up. Sheep, People, Sheeple.

Life was comfortable, with my eyes closed. I didn’t fear going insane. I didn’t have this burden in my hand. I didn’t have much to think about.

The knowing is driving me insane. Holding me down, being my burden. Making me lose sleep, all the thinking.

I saw American Psycho a few hours ago. Patrick Bateman reminded me of myself so much. You should see the movie, if you haven’t already.

I’m deviating. Going to blame it on ADHD. And, uh, have nothing else to say, really. I wanted to blog so bad but I just couldn’t get myself to. Then it just happened. This just happened. I’m glad.

I’m glad you’re reading this, too. Thank you. You’re pretty much one of the reason I do all this. The other reason is me, myself. For the sake of sanity. Or maintaining whatever I have left of it.

~ Much love. Danish Arif.

Why the fuck can’t we smoke in the bar?

xt says, today I found out my friend Ali is gay. And that Danish is the biggest jerkoff in the world. While Saad and Sarmad are also gay, they like staying in the closet until the right moment comes.

Ali says, I’m so proud to be mentioned in Danish’s blog. And xt’s blog sucks big time… http://saad.tblog.com

Sarmad says, Danish is the biggest hypocrite I’ve met. I’m playing Call of Duty. (xt adds for sam – and these guys are drilling my ass.)

Saad says, I have nothing to say.

Danish says, disregard everything everyone said.

Cloths of Heaven

Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

- William Butler Yeats

This is why I don't ever get sleep.

Most of the time, when I say something and people decide to argue or raise a question - the sole reason I never reply or answer back is because, the answer is so ridiculously easy to figure out, and the whole argument therefore is so idiotic, that I don't feel like wasting any time even contemplating and then writing down an answer. So I just stop thinking about it in the next second or two. Literally.

But, as I toss and turn in bed, I suddenly started thinking about Luck again, and a few questions ArfawLuv decided to raise. And so, I'm going to answer them. Yawn.

Arfa Said:

If you're not lucky, explain how you got all that you do?

The luxuries of life, latest gadgets and whatnot, how would you say you have them?

Easy.

As pie.

The luxuries of life, latest gadgets and 'what not', how would I say I have them? See my dad, right, worked his ass off most of his life to make money. That money in return, buys me the luxuries of life, the latest gadgets, and what not. Everything else that you see? Me studying in Philadelphia? Yes, my dad funds it, but you can't just get into a college sitting on your ass, and a lot of money in your bank account. In fact, I didn't have any of that a year or two ago. See, to get into college, you actually have to pull off a few feats yourself. And even bigger feats than that, to get an american visa.

Now, you might argue - that it was my dad that worked the most for all the things I have today. But if you look closely enough, you'll realize, my dad wouldn't do all that for me if I wasn't doing what he wanted me to do either. It's a two way road, and I keep my parents happy so that my parents keep me happy.

As materialistic, and cold hearted as that might sound, trust me - it's not, it's just how human kind basically works.

I know a lot of rich ass parents that treat their kids like crap. But it's ok, because their kids treat them like crap too.

And how I will be treated by my kids (if I ever choose to have them - the chances are bleak though) depends on how I treat my parents.

My parents are happy. I'm happy. End of discussion.

Why must we insist on creating false, imaginary, intangible forces and completely ignore the ones that exist? Even if it's involuntary, I'm not forgiving, even if it's due to stupidity.

All stupidity maybe naive stupidity, but you're not off the hook for being naive.

Seriously.

Mankind, stop creating things just so life becomes convenient. Plz. Kthx. You have your iPhones. And weather forecast. You can order pizza from the couch. Is that not convenient enough? Do we really have to create things like Luck?

Oh, so if it happens your way, you did it on your own. But if it doesn't, then it just wasn't meant to be, right? You got unlucky, yeah, of course.

Everyone needs to see the movie Idiocracy. Or maybe just Wall-E if that's easier to understand. And convenient to get a hold of.

You see those fat humans connected to pods and what not? Yes, that is us. The near future. Except, there won't really be any robots or advancement in technology. No. That's the only part that won't come true.

Karma.

And a little of what I forgot to mention in my comment earlier: The law of attraction. As cliche' as that sounds, your world is how you create it in your head.

Life is like a balancing act. I have everything because I'm managing not to fall off.

Which brings me to another thing I was thinking of. The point of life, of course.

But I'm not going to put it up because of something my Dad said.

Something about people being stupid.

Oh, wait, did I? Yes, I just did. Why, Pardon me.

Nothing much at all.

dibelleva 5:52 am
what've you been up to?
Dquicksilvera 5:52 am
just ... yeah ... apart from thinking a lot, nothing much at all

It’s so easy. Life here. I love it, I really do.

With nothing to worry about. The other day, I was stressing about my laptop being unresponsive. And I realized how I’ve stopped worrying about such minor things … and that, if I am thinking about them now – it could only mean I don’t have bigger things to worry about.

But soon after, all that went out the window, and I had one of the most messed up days ever.

How messed up? Nicotine deprivation and a lot of anger. I remember gritting my teeth so hard, it gave me a headache.

I just saw Idiocracy though. It’s basically, about these two people that ‘hibernate’ in 2005, and wake up in 2055 to find that people have turned idiotic.

So yeah, it’s pretty much what I see the future as. Which is why I loved it.

I have a few more days left in Riyadh, it’s back to the shit hole then. –sigh- … I wouldn’t be lying if I said I don’t feel like going back, life is too easy here … too comfortable … you can’t blame me for enjoying it.

I didn’t know the new Sherlock Holmes movie was directed by Guy Ritchie. Which means I can’t miss it. Guy Ritchie is effing genius.

In the near future, I’m going to try and see the following movies:

Waking Life, Collateral, Vanilla Sky, The Machinist, eXistenZ, The Game, Cypher and Being John Malkovich.

On a side note, you know life isn’t perfect when – you starve yourself, just so you don’t crave cigarettes like you usually do after you eat.

Definitely not perfect.

Apathy, The Knowing, and Confusion.

I leave you with the rest of the conversation.

Dquicksilvera 6:23 am
I don't know how I've survived in philly for a year
being as cynical as I am, and not giving much of a crap about anything
being self destructive and what not
I don't think it's a good idea to be that way anymore ..
dibelleva 6:25 am
imo, neither do i
Dquicksilvera 6:25 am
but I can't help it
I need to find a motive to be alive soon
dibelleva 6:26 am
to spread ur evilness
Dquicksilvera 6:26 am
too many people already doing that
dibelleva 6:26 am
billions of people have lived, you may have to give up on originality lol
Dquicksilvera 6:27 am
See, that's so unoriginal too
dibelleva 6:27 am
just to prove my point
lol
Dquicksilvera 6:28 am
>_>

The (m)asses.

I need a few more miracles, to make myself believe that I can make it happen again.

Just like I did before.

But I seem to be running out of it, and I have this feeling that things are going to come crashing down.

Maybe it’s just me, though.

I’ve brushed past things a lot worse. And survived.

But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to do it all over again. No I wouldn’t.

No, I don’t want to.

Yes, I get bored easily. But I hate running around like I do.

I think it’s hilarious, how you would think I’ve had things handed to me, and that it’s all been a joy ride.

One of the reason I get ticked off when people talk about ‘luck’, or call me ‘lucky.’

I don’t believe in things mankind’s thought up to make life convenient. And luck is one of those things.

So please. Keep your shit to yourself. If you like thinking, that I have what I have today due to luck – just so you can feel better about yourself, do it in your head. Don’t talk to me about it.

Luck, fate, destiny. I think people are stupid for believing in things that don’t exist.

Basically, let me break it down.

Fuck you, for thinking things come easily to me and that I’m ‘’lucky.’’

And fuck you, for judging me too.

And fuck you, for being so fucking stupid, yet thinking – that what you, or the masses (the asses) think is correct, IS correct.

Guess what? If you think like the masses? You’re most probably one of the asses.

An ass of the dumb variety, perhaps.