A tiger doesn't lose sleep
over the opinion of sheep.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 29, 2013
Another one bites the dust.
But at least this one counts on that fucked up list you provided, with the specific criteria.
This one's seemingly way worse than even things from the past, though. And that's a big deal.
I guess this is just another test. Was.
"And every girl that I walk around,
seems to be more of an illusion than the last one that I found.
Oh well."
But at least this one counts on that fucked up list you provided, with the specific criteria.
This one's seemingly way worse than even things from the past, though. And that's a big deal.
I guess this is just another test. Was.
"And every girl that I walk around,
seems to be more of an illusion than the last one that I found.
Oh well."
Apr 28, 2013
Daanish Arif Oh, and my brother wants credit for this picture, because he took it, and he thinks he's an amazing photographer capturing life and simplicity in the midst of Capitalism in the most ironic of places - Makkah. My words, not his.
This is only half of my life. The one I have been living here.
Complete with a different personality, no sense of belonging in the back of my head, and independence without choice.
Not so black and white, of course, but that's the gist of it.
This is only half of my life, the other half is lived elsewhere.
To a culture completely different, with interactions completely different and a personality completely different. The dynamics of my behavior change, the dynamics of my relationships with people change.
I want different things, I strive for different things and I aim to achieve and attain different tasks, goals and accomplishments. Depending on the norm, depending on what everyone else seems to be doing, and depending on whatever is deemed more important by the respective society.
I just have to do as the Romans do.
That will never change. Neither side of the equation will get to see what the other side looks like, and this is by design. Mostly by design.
I generally like being accepted by people in both lives, and I want to keep it that way. The alienation, culture shock and snapping in and out of character should be my own burden to carry and no one else's. Neither can I tell how anyone will react to indulging and finding out about my other existence, so it is perhaps something best left untouched. It has been working so far, if you can call it 'working.'
This may never change.
They say there's the part of you, or side of you, that's always hidden from the rest of the world. I suppose I have three, then, two hidden at all times, depending on where I am.
This, perhaps, makes it harder for people who are trying to connect on a level above just "acquaintance."
You can't be told everything that goes in this head, obviously. But it's not just things I hide from everyone in the world, it's the other life.
Do you think this makes it harder? Probably.
But this too is my own burden to carry. My own insecurities perhaps, nothing anyone else should bother with.
We're all hiding something or the other, but it's a little different when we're different people without people's knowledge.
Especially those who think they know you well, or want to. But it's not easy to make the drapery fall, or make it all go away.
It's not easy to part from a defense mechanism so established and enforced over the times. Something so concrete and existent on many more levels than just the conscious.
Something that seems so necessary and important. As to not alienate and drive people away by things they don't understand.
The irony shouldn't be lost on anyone then, when the exact opposite ends up happening.
Complete with a different personality, no sense of belonging in the back of my head, and independence without choice.
Not so black and white, of course, but that's the gist of it.
This is only half of my life, the other half is lived elsewhere.
To a culture completely different, with interactions completely different and a personality completely different. The dynamics of my behavior change, the dynamics of my relationships with people change.
I want different things, I strive for different things and I aim to achieve and attain different tasks, goals and accomplishments. Depending on the norm, depending on what everyone else seems to be doing, and depending on whatever is deemed more important by the respective society.
I just have to do as the Romans do.
That will never change. Neither side of the equation will get to see what the other side looks like, and this is by design. Mostly by design.
I generally like being accepted by people in both lives, and I want to keep it that way. The alienation, culture shock and snapping in and out of character should be my own burden to carry and no one else's. Neither can I tell how anyone will react to indulging and finding out about my other existence, so it is perhaps something best left untouched. It has been working so far, if you can call it 'working.'
This may never change.
They say there's the part of you, or side of you, that's always hidden from the rest of the world. I suppose I have three, then, two hidden at all times, depending on where I am.
This, perhaps, makes it harder for people who are trying to connect on a level above just "acquaintance."
You can't be told everything that goes in this head, obviously. But it's not just things I hide from everyone in the world, it's the other life.
Do you think this makes it harder? Probably.
But this too is my own burden to carry. My own insecurities perhaps, nothing anyone else should bother with.
We're all hiding something or the other, but it's a little different when we're different people without people's knowledge.
Especially those who think they know you well, or want to. But it's not easy to make the drapery fall, or make it all go away.
It's not easy to part from a defense mechanism so established and enforced over the times. Something so concrete and existent on many more levels than just the conscious.
Something that seems so necessary and important. As to not alienate and drive people away by things they don't understand.
The irony shouldn't be lost on anyone then, when the exact opposite ends up happening.
Apr 23, 2013
Like the legend of the phoenix.
I'm sure you've already heard, but Daft Punk with Pharrell Williams happened. Made me actually get into Daft Punk, who would've thought.
I'm up all night to get lucky. So relatable.
I think I'm gonna get a phoenix tattoo.
Apr 19, 2013
This is my life.
From piece to piece, clothes and shoes scattered everywhere. Just like my thoughts, it's funny how that works.
From nights of drinking to days and days. They've all seemingly blurred together.
There's things all over the place, my bed is still on the floor. Wood, pieces of the bed, right next to the wall. I manage to end up hitting my leg or her arm on it every now and then. We get too carried away.
I guess she must like it. Same thing, over again, huh?
Brilliant under achiever with the bed hair, and the fuzzy facial hair with drug problems and a disturbing past.
Apparently, there's always someone willing to partake, willing to discover and maybe even hopefully change. Somehow turn things around.
What seemingly goes un-noticed is the fact that this is what you sign up for. You don't get to complain about something you signed up for. Perhaps that's what brings about the will for abandonment and desire to desperately get out later in life. Huh.
It always starts out the same, though.
There are so many things running through my head, but this medium has been compromised. It is beautifully unfortunate that we're still playing games with each other.
I'm sending out encrypted and vague messages, and you have the excuse of boredom you're still using to hang on. To "reach out."
Imagine the weight on my chest when I see a tree that has just blossomed and it reminds me of the things the girl before you used to say to me on the phone. I understand now, I know exactly what she meant. How hard it is to move on.
And when the new girl puts her hands on my chest and feels my heart beat, I wonder if she can feel all the weight and heaviness.
I remember feeling the same way about you. Uncertain, and skeptical. Scared and unwilling. So vulnerable, and unconsciously sabotaging things.
It didn't work though. Perhaps it never does.
...
But I'm comfortable with the idea of not having choice now.
I just hope she doesn't feel the worry lines that appear on my forehead when our foreheads inevitably touch.
Just hope she doesn't try to dig too deep into the way my eyes drift off into the distance and my mind wanders off into the past.
The cup I still drink out of, the lava lamp that's still my night light and the comforter we use to stay warm when we're falling asleep in each other's arms.
The boxes I still keep, physical and metaphorical.
The pictures, the little pieces of seemingly nothing and the memory.
The cheesecake she's going to bake me and the Skype calls she's going to be waiting on.
I'd like to believe things have changed.
Here's a blurry picture of a damn ferret.
From piece to piece, clothes and shoes scattered everywhere. Just like my thoughts, it's funny how that works.
From nights of drinking to days and days. They've all seemingly blurred together.
There's things all over the place, my bed is still on the floor. Wood, pieces of the bed, right next to the wall. I manage to end up hitting my leg or her arm on it every now and then. We get too carried away.
I guess she must like it. Same thing, over again, huh?
Brilliant under achiever with the bed hair, and the fuzzy facial hair with drug problems and a disturbing past.
Apparently, there's always someone willing to partake, willing to discover and maybe even hopefully change. Somehow turn things around.
What seemingly goes un-noticed is the fact that this is what you sign up for. You don't get to complain about something you signed up for. Perhaps that's what brings about the will for abandonment and desire to desperately get out later in life. Huh.
It always starts out the same, though.
There are so many things running through my head, but this medium has been compromised. It is beautifully unfortunate that we're still playing games with each other.
I'm sending out encrypted and vague messages, and you have the excuse of boredom you're still using to hang on. To "reach out."
Imagine the weight on my chest when I see a tree that has just blossomed and it reminds me of the things the girl before you used to say to me on the phone. I understand now, I know exactly what she meant. How hard it is to move on.
And when the new girl puts her hands on my chest and feels my heart beat, I wonder if she can feel all the weight and heaviness.
I remember feeling the same way about you. Uncertain, and skeptical. Scared and unwilling. So vulnerable, and unconsciously sabotaging things.
It didn't work though. Perhaps it never does.
...
But I'm comfortable with the idea of not having choice now.
I just hope she doesn't feel the worry lines that appear on my forehead when our foreheads inevitably touch.
Just hope she doesn't try to dig too deep into the way my eyes drift off into the distance and my mind wanders off into the past.
The cup I still drink out of, the lava lamp that's still my night light and the comforter we use to stay warm when we're falling asleep in each other's arms.
The boxes I still keep, physical and metaphorical.
The pictures, the little pieces of seemingly nothing and the memory.
The cheesecake she's going to bake me and the Skype calls she's going to be waiting on.
I'd like to believe things have changed.
Here's a blurry picture of a damn ferret.
Apr 18, 2013
"The past is a gaping hole. You try to run from it, but the more you run, the deeper, more terrible it grows behind you, its edges yawning at your heels. Your only chance is to turn around and face it. But it's like looking down into the grave of your love, or kissing the mouth of a gun, a bullet trembling in its dark nest, ready to blow your head off."
- Max Payne
tbc.
Apr 16, 2013
I always kill the things I love.
It's amazing how listening to music that you used to listen to back in the day is able to remind you of the times you first heard it. The things you were feeling, and all that.
Like the L.A. Noire official soundtrack.
The game was based in 1947, and the music was all 50s' jazz. When wearing fedoras was cool, and not exclusive to hipsters.
I've grown a fascination for the 50s', I've realized. Or have had one for a while, I don't know. The jazz, the fashion sense, the cars. Things like L.A. Noire (actually inspired by L.A. Confidential,) and other Martin Scorsese movies.
Reminds me of happy days. Being back home for the summer, being madly in love, and generally content with life...
At the same time, and coincidentally enough, also a part of the soundtrack is this jazz song called "I always kill the things I love."
"I love the chase, 'til the minute I win it
A beautiful face 'til there's love for me in it
Give me your heart and baby I'll bill it
'cause I always kill the things I love"
Like the L.A. Noire official soundtrack.
The game was based in 1947, and the music was all 50s' jazz. When wearing fedoras was cool, and not exclusive to hipsters.
I've grown a fascination for the 50s', I've realized. Or have had one for a while, I don't know. The jazz, the fashion sense, the cars. Things like L.A. Noire (actually inspired by L.A. Confidential,) and other Martin Scorsese movies.
Reminds me of happy days. Being back home for the summer, being madly in love, and generally content with life...
At the same time, and coincidentally enough, also a part of the soundtrack is this jazz song called "I always kill the things I love."
"I love the chase, 'til the minute I win it
A beautiful face 'til there's love for me in it
Give me your heart and baby I'll bill it
'cause I always kill the things I love"
"The look in your eyes will turn to surprise
As you feel the pain and you realize
The one hurting you is somebody who
Once said 'I love you'"
Apr 10, 2013
We have to set up a website with a link to running this FPS called "Urban Terror," for our "Network Technologies," class.
I suggested we make an awesome looking website and call it "Turban Error." With a guy wearing a turban, and an 'error' sign on his shirt or something.
"That sounds a bit racist," says Alex.
"Not if I'm doing it, it isn't. Just put my name on there, and we're good to go."
Laughing at "things" makes "things" a little more fun.
Edit: We got 5 extra points just because we made the website a little better looking than most people. Yay.
I suggested we make an awesome looking website and call it "Turban Error." With a guy wearing a turban, and an 'error' sign on his shirt or something.
"That sounds a bit racist," says Alex.
"Not if I'm doing it, it isn't. Just put my name on there, and we're good to go."
Laughing at "things" makes "things" a little more fun.
Edit: We got 5 extra points just because we made the website a little better looking than most people. Yay.
Apr 2, 2013
"Girlfriends."
Holy shit. The song "Cupid's Chokehold" is all about this guy's low self esteem and how he's always "falling in love," to compensate for his lack of self esteem. Jesus Christ, drugs are a hell of a drug.
"I know I'm young, but if I had to choose her or the sun, I'd be one nocturnal son of a gun."
"Take a look at my girlfriend,
She's the only one I got.
Not much of a girlfriend.
I never seem to get a lot. "
The only one I have.
Loneliness? So you cling on to the next person that comes along giving you that little bit of attention that's just sufficient.
Not much of a girlfriend. She's pretty fucking horrible to him. But she's there.
The song is this guy talking to his parents. A phone call, maybe even a letter?
"It's been some time since we last spoke,
This is gonna sound like a bad joke
But momma I fell in love again
It's safe to say I have a new girlfriend."
Oh, parents. Accept your son for who he is, and he knows you'll love him unconditionally. So he's about to make another mistake, all over again.
"I mean she even cooks me pancakes
And Alka Seltzer when my tummy aches
If that ain't love then I don't know what love is"
"It's been a while since we talked last
And I'm tryin' hard not to talk fast
But dad I'm finally thinkin' I may have found the one
Type of girl that'll make you way proud of your son"
Not to mention how he's always trying to impress his dad and prove himself to him.
"Call it dumb, call it luck, call it love or whatever you call it
But everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet, like."
Ha. Love that line so much, I even did it.
"Tere liye main le loon, dunya se beir, piya."
"Beir" meaning Inimicalness.
And, from the internet we find:
Hostility (also called inimicality) is a form of angry internal rejection or denial in psychology.
I really like the version where Devdaas decides to stay with Chandramukhi, rather than shriveling up and dying outside of Paro's door.
Does that make sense?
"Beir" meaning Inimicalness.
And, from the internet we find:
Hostility (also called inimicality) is a form of angry internal rejection or denial in psychology.
I really like the version where Devdaas decides to stay with Chandramukhi, rather than shriveling up and dying outside of Paro's door.
Does that make sense?
I've realized Devdaas is just Narcissist in Love.
It's the story of a man controlled by his ego, and his self loathing.
The narcissism in direct correlation with the self loathing, in direct correlation with the substance abuse and trying to run after what he can't have while judging what he can have.
I had a whole theory going, and now I can't remember it. Shit.
It's the story of a man controlled by his ego, and his self loathing.
The narcissism in direct correlation with the self loathing, in direct correlation with the substance abuse and trying to run after what he can't have while judging what he can have.
I had a whole theory going, and now I can't remember it. Shit.
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