I love womankind.

I'll probably never get womankind. Or understand any female.

Other than my mother.

Womankind. God's punishment for men, or just plain torture? Probably the latter, as far as I have seen.

And God couldn't have picked out a straighter bone from ol' Adam's body. It had to be the rib. One of the crooked ones. The bone that could never be straightened, and would only end up breaking if you tried straightening it out.

*sigh*

Womankind. My money is with Jerry Seinfeld, when he says the only thing going on in the female brain is new ideas about how to manipulate men. It's probably true, why else are woman on earth?

They were once rumored to be good cooks. But let's face it, the world's best chefs are actually all men.

And what is up with feminists? Seriously. With their short hair and what not most of the time, it's clear something is so wrong with them.

Equal rights for men and women, eh? Isn't this the 21st century. Why do we still have feminists? If they need something else to do, the cooking and cleaning department could use a hand. Someone send that to the National Organization for Woman.

God, womankind, what do you want from us?

I mean it's clear you're all I think about. You're driving me insane here. I'm trying to figure out what you want, and why you're here on earth with us, but it's not coming to me. A lot of men have been trying to figure it out, but they haven't been successful either. And God has a way of keeping you guessing whether he's there or not, all the time, so asking him isn't working either.

Plus, we know we've come a long way from the days of Adam, and with the probable hoax of evolution and what not going around, we've grown smarter. But so have you, manipulating sirens and vixens from the Garden of Eden. The fruits have all changed, but they're still there, and they're still forbidden. The only thing different is, there might or might not be a snake in the grass anymore. But it's all the same thing, really. For history repeats itself, yes? Then, for as long as there are Sons of Adam, Eves all over the world will keep screwing them over.

And it's not helping MANkind, the fact that we're outnumbered 1 to 4. That number will probably keep growing, woman care to stick out for each other. Man has this other problem, it's called an Ego. We can't help it, we really can't. We were born with it, probably got it from our own dads. But woman, man, woman are organized. So damn organized, they could jump the Russian mafia, and scare the shit out of Vladimir, or Boris, or whoever it is working that night. Boris, the cold blooded hitman, that likes the smell of blood. Or Vladimir, the man who likes to stare you straight in the eyes, before shooting you right in between them. Vladimir and Boris are probably scared of woman, deep down inside, too.

Woman are so organized. They probably plan in advance for their own marriage, their future children's marriages, their grandchildren's names, and where they'll be living while all this is happening. I just haven't gotten my hands on the documented proof and blue prints yet. But soon.

But I love my mom, man. There can't be anyone like her. The only reason she's ever lied to me, was for my own good. Something woman rarely do. Not the lying, lying isn't rare to them. I meant 'doing things for someone else's good'. That's the rare part.

Oh, and don't get offended, womankind. I haven't taken any names, right? So assume, that I'm not talking about you. If you aren't like how I just described above, because believe me, I wasn't being vague or anything, to talk about as many woman as I could, no. I was actually pin pointing female traits, because there do exist woman exactly as I just described. And if you aren't like that, then please don't complain and be glad you weren't mentioned.

But if you ARE somehow a kind and loving female, that doesn't intend to torture men, marry me, would you?

But then It'd probably drive me crazy to understand whether you are real or not. Whether it's me, or everyone else that's crazy.

If it turns out to be just me, though, that would just explain a lot.

Laugh with me, then.

It's funny how people just see the book cover and not what's really inside.

It's funny how people only see the mask, and not the face wearing it.

It's funny how people take to what they see, hear, and feel to be real, and don't bother after that point.

It's funny how the book cover is strapped on to the book so tight.

It's funny how masks become really hard to take off after a while.

It's funny, the measures people end up taking, to be anything but lonely.

It's funny how it can be so sad.

Danish's Guide to (this side of) the galaxy.

I'm shit tired as I type this, I still haven't done that whole "200 posts, woohoo!" thing, chronic procrastinator that I am, *sigh*.

But! I want to brag about the fact, that I have already gotten two people to take up podcasting!

So, the stats read: Got 8 people to take up blogging, and 2 to take up podcasting. Woot!

Anywho, credit to Rija who got me to podcast in the first place ^_^. I wish I could share this glory with her =( ... soon, hopefully.

I'm addicted to this Deep Purple song Sam introduced me to a while ago, called Hush. Trippy stuff, indeed.

Aah, I'm sipping on this huge glass of pepsi, while me mommy has tea on the stove for me. I lovez tea. It be wunnderful.

I got these two books, one's the infamous Douglas Adams classic, The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. Dagda told me to pick it up, and even though his real name is Hammad, and was only Dagda ONCE on msn, I still prefer calling him that. Hmm.

The other one is this philosophical book with a pink cover, called Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder. If you haven't heard of it, wiki or google it already. And guess what, first I got looks for holding a pink book, right. Then the sales person, who actually read it himself, tells me how good it is, but also adds that, quote; "... Although, I have to say, I've seen mostly females pick that book up ..."

But see, here's the deal, which I also explained to the sales person. If you look at the numbers of people that come to the bookstore itself and buy books, gender wise, don't be surprised when you see more Females buying books than Males. How is it not just understandable and logical that more females buy ANY book then? And all of a sudden, the guy's eyes lit up with agreement. "Oh, yes, definitely, yeah."

Yeah, jackass, all points turn pointless with my logic. I didn't even know if what I had just said was any true, but if the sales person himself agrees, then it must be, right? Sheer luck? No, I figured the sales person wouldn't probably know himself. I got him to buy it. Heh, sold the sales person something. Ain't I wunnnderful. And full of myself.

It's just sad though. Guys not liking books. Specially how people's answers to questions like "fav. books" on social networking websites are plain idiotic. Doesn't really make any difference to me, see. With my understanding of it, God only made stupid people, to make life all the easier for people that actually use their brains. Like me, for instance. So as long as there are stupid people, I have all the chances in the world to hit success.

Oh, and philosophy FTW. Finish.

2o1.

201th post. I thought I'd photoshop a new banner at least, or maybe make up a whole new blog theme + color scheme .. but blah. Maybe later. For the 202nd post. I make up the rules here, right?

Hmmm .. I can't fall asleep. I've been trying for around, 2 hours. The time reads to 11.12 AM. And I have to wake up, in like, 3 - 4 hours. *sigh*

I miss Elmo, I really did. Idiot that Elmo was. Grrrrr.

Aaah, I wish my schedule wasn't as messed up as it is. I wish I wasn't nocturnal. I wish I could fly. I wish so many things, it's funny. I wish I could decide between a Vaio and a XPS.

Materialistic bastard, aren't I? Well, so is 80% of the world. At least I'm not part of the flock, and own an iphone or a mac. Was thinking about getting a mac, yes. Then I remembered who I was and what I do. Stand out, and not fall for corporate bullshit and advertising tactics.

Macs are for graphic designers. Fuck that, ever hear of photoshop and after effects on windows? With 80% of the world's software developers working on software for Microsoft Windows and NOT Mac OSX, how the fuck can Windows NOT have graphic design software?

Reason why Microsoft never bothers making ADs to get back at the Macintosh's "I'm a Mac, I'm a PC" ADs: Because Microsoft knows, that if a person is stupid enough to fall for those, they are better off with a Mac.

Jeez, I am brilliant.

Oh, and if I want a unique operating system, I'd rather run Linux.

*e-mails Microsoft his resume and this blog post*

Fin.

200th Post.

Elmo has left the country, and I'm sad. Left me a really big surprise, which made me go =o hawww but then something even sadder happened.

See, my laptop was being a total bitch, crashing and just slowing down and what not. And GOD, I hate that. So I picked it up and slammed it down real hard. Now, I realized even then, that doing so would not actually fix anything, but I just didn't care, so please stop judging me in your heads, with things like 'oh, that is so stupid.' I know it is so stupid, I just felt like being stupid, kthx.

Anywho, the operating system just crashed, nothing worked, so I manual-restarted the system. Bad, move.

Apparently, my primary master hard disk harboring Windows XP has been fried, the file system has gone awry, and the Boot.ini file is not accessible. On top of that, chkdsk can't do shit. Forget /r and /p command line additions.

The boot file just isn't accessible =/ and won't even be replaced. Proper Fucked royally, sideways, the works.

Didn't get what I said? My computer won't start, and I'm going to lose all my data.

Because the only way to make it work (hopefully) is to re-format and reinstall Windows from scratch. And I'm not even sure if that'll work.

But someone has taught me something important right before leaving. It's called Optimism.

So what do I do? Simply put my finger on the next laptop I want and then buy it.

So, things on my list to buy: New laptop, a camera, and a new cell phone.

That's optimism for me.

Oh, and by the way. 200th Post!! Big whoop.

Pikchurz R Preddy

And now, I will take a bow.

I've been blogging for more than 5 years, with no one reading. And after not giving up, and so many years, I now have 9 followers.

Lead and they will follow, I read some place. Interestingly, all I've learnt is from other people's writings. Maybe that's what draws me to writing so much. So much, that I'm taking English 102 and Creative Writing when I go back to Philludelpheya. And spell checker didn't underline that voluntarily mispelt word. It did underline mispelt though. Oh, it's 'spelt' misspelled. Whoops.

What I said about the Philadelphia (not taking risks with spell checker embarrassing me, anymore) picture thingy .. Ugh, thingy is not in the dictionary? Jesus.

Anywho. Here's are samples of what I was talking about in the previous post;









And also, I'm attaching this picture from the Lamb of God concert I got to see a few months ago. Just because it is so amazing.



All Images Protected Under Copyrights!

Hehe.

CONVERSE-ation.

Daaa, na na naaaa, na na naaaa, na na naaa ... (SWAT theme. YouTube it.)

Ok, so. Rij said it'd be ok if I be completely random, so I'm going to do just that. Be completely random.

Did absolutely nothing today, haven't been doing absolutely anything for a while now, and it's getting on my own nerves now. Have photoshopped a bunch of pictures I took in Philadelphia, will put them up soon somewhere, thinking of Flickr. Not sure how it works though, want someplace I can create like an album or something, with some eye candy and what not. Ya' know?

So if you have any suggestions or whatever. Be kind and leave em. See, its kind of like this, magazine type thing I did, like a feature, covering Philadelphia and what not.. or not, actually, just my 6 month stay there. So maybe we'll see like a sequel when I go back. Or something.


Hey, wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Your advice.
She eyes me like a Pisces when I am weak ...

I need to do a podcast! Need to do so many things and time is running by so fast. It's sad. Blah. =(

The Billie Jean's not my lover. She's just a girl, who says that I am the one. But, the kid is not my son.

She says I am The One.

And now, why this post is called Converse-ation.



Blah.

There you go, Elmo. ^_^

Just something that caught my fancy;

When your Gemini child finally grows up, lots of people will tell you disapprovingly that "he has too many fingers stuck in too many pies." You'll smile then, and they may be annoyed. But you'll be remembering one spring day when he was seven. He stuck his fingers in your chocolate pies, his father's shaving cream, the fish bowl, the garbage can, a pot of hot soup and an electric socket. You were furious. Later, at twilight, you watched him run around chasing lightning bugs in the grass. After a while, you sighed, and asked yourself aloud, "Why must he rush around so? Why must he get into everything? What in the world is he searching for?" He overheard you and it troubled him. You'll never forget the look in his bright, clear eyes when he answered. "Gee, Mommy ... I don't know. But don't you worry. I'll find it."

Masked

I walked inside the empty castle, as dark as it was, but I had a torch. The flame flickered, the light reflected against my face, but I wasn't sure what was there anymore.

I reached the first set of words engraved on the wall, as if it was left there for me.

“Clowns wear a face that's painted intentionally on them so they appear to be happy or sad. What kind of mask are you wearing today?”
- Anonymous

It felt as if I had read the words before, in a life I lived before this one. But the only difference was, I hadn't died in between.

“The play is done; the curtain drops,

Slow falling to the prompter's bell

A moment yet the actor stops

And looks around to say farewell.

It is an irksome word and task:

And when he's laughed and said his say,

He shows, as he removes the mask,

A face that's anything but gay.”
-William Makepeace Thackeray

After the curtain did fall, when I had played my part, I stepped back inside the real me.

Miserable, weak, and not alive anymore. But the only question without an answer is - why?

“He who wears a mask cannot see within himself.”
- Anonymous

I walked further along the empty castle, as dark as it was. I had a torch, and the light fell across my face, but I wasn't sure what was there anymore.

“Sometimes people carry to such perfection the mask they have assumed that in due course they actually become the person they seem.”
- William Somerset Maugham

~~

"I've had people worry 'bout this mask before,

and what I've been wearing it for

but whenever I've let go off it, I've

found no one to recognize me anymore."
- Danish Arif

If life were on tv...

Just woke up, and had really weird sleep .. my body hurts, so does my jaw. My skull doesn't, like yesterday. I have got to quit my routine. Going to sleep only when my body can't withstand staying up anymore. It can't be good for me.

So I look through twitter updates. Decide to add one of my own, for the world to witness. My mom sat down besides me a while ago, asking why I always turn on my laptop first thing after waking up. Why I can't spend a little more time with them instead. *sigh*.

Asked me if I could go to the hospital with them, my parents, today. Need to see a doctor who would take my tonsillitis out. Not looking forward to that.

Then she asked me if I could go to Chillies or Apple bees with them today. And before I answered, I tried thinking really hard to see when I'd get the time to have a little nicotine, so the whole fiasco becomes bearable for a while.

Then I realize how fucking sad that is, and how dependent I am on tobacco, that I can't even spend time with my parents without it.

To me, that is just fucked up. And don't get me wrong, it's fucked up on my part. But to fight my case; I wouldn't have realized it'd be this way, until I came this far. And now that I have, *sigh*, yes, I wish I didn't. But I wouldn't have realized it'd be this way, until I ...

Crack my knuckles, twist my neck around, ask mum for tea. Aah, a day in the life of me.

If that were a show, and I were watching it on tv, I'd probably turn it off after the first few minutes, because it'd just seem too cynical, depressing, and pessimistic.

...

*sigh*

I thought I could, but I can't write. Not right now. *sigh*

Riot in my head.

::

Waking up pissed off every day can not be good for you, I assume.

I just woke up, say, roughly an hour ago. My head hurts, and I can't concentrate properly on things. It's the nicotine. Or actually the lack of it.

I want to start podcasting soon, but this being angry most of the time interferes with any serious productivity. Oh, thanks to Rija for pointing out podcasting. I know she's probably going to read this and then be like, *gasp, no mention of who introduced him to it, yada yada*

It's not even about being angry, I don't think this can be classified as that. This is just, being ticked off. Being irritated. Gahh. *fists clenched*

Has anyone seen Prison Break? Doesn't it seem like they keep the guy playing Michael Schofield - Wentworth Miller, away from cigarettes for like an hour before his shots? Because he seems nicotine deprived in every scene and take himself. Heh. Specially with the whispering and rubbing his forehead all the time. At least I only do that when I'm suffering from nicotine withdrawal. Oh well.

Plus, I think I might have a reason to be pissed off this time around, too. Yeah, because I've been working my ass of for something, but it all fell apart, and yeah, it's depressing, and fucked up. *sigh*

Anywho, more shit as it happens. Stay tuned.

Oh, and I got that title from the television blaring in the background. Apparently another riot in Karachi. Pity.

"It could be worse."

::

"You know, it could be worse," she said.

Everything could be worse, with that point of view. But that's the thing.

I'm grateful it's not worse. I'm just sad, that it's as bad as it is.


::

I love making lists. Hehe.

I need to start sleeping and waking up on time. Seeeerious.

Nocturnal moron that I am, I end up sleeping at 12 in the afternoon, and waking up at 7-8 PM.

I've spent a month like that, and I only have a few more days in Riyadh. And I haven't gotten anything done!

Here's the list of things I need to do while I'm here:

1. Bug the sanity out of my parents. (Almost accomplished)
2. Learn how to cook! At least basic things, anyway.
3. Join a Gym. Get in shape. Anything other than looking anorexic, that is.
4. Gain some bloody weight. Anything other than looking anorexic, that is.
5. Learn how to drive already! Jeezaz.
6. Go to Jeddah!
7. Go to Bahrain!
8. Spend lots of time with my parents. (To bug the sanity out of them).
9. Make my Dad buy me a lot of things to satisfy my materialistic drive. A new laptop, a new cell phone, etc, etc.


And that's basically it. Not a lot, right?

Listening to: Climbing up the walls by Chris Cornell from Scream (2009)

*sigh*

Just took a quiz on facebook.

As if I wasn't depressed already. Here's the result I got:

A Smokelike Person
You tend to hide your emotions. You are at a very low point in life. You almost seem to not want to go on anymore, to fade away into smoke, not exist. You feel alone in life. You feel as if nobody could ever understand you. But there is only one thing that you cling to in life: You want to belong, but you dont want to change. You want to be around people you want to have a reason to go on. You are sometimes envious of other people's seemingly perfect lives. If you want to have a seemingly perfect life, then you should start hanging around warm sunlike people, or friendly earthlike people, or tell your problems to an quiet listener moon person. And you always have a speck of hope inside of you. Even if you feel all hope is lost, hope is hard to fully kill. so nurture and try to see life through different eyes, and maybe it'll be a brighter world.


*sigh*

Tea.

Just woke up, but I saw no dreams in my sleep, and I don't feel as cynical as I usually do. Just ... blah, though. For no reason, apparently. I need to go out or something.

My mum's handed me my daily cup o' tea, something I look forward to. My mom makes the best tea in the world, it's amazing.

That's it =)

capital f.

fuck this life, and every dream that you had. when shit's meant to happen, shit will just happen no matter what.

fuck motivation, and optimism. fuck capital letters after full stops, fuck using commas, at the ri,ght places. fuck corporate bullshit, with their rich getting richer and poor struggling to survive.

fuck alphabets. fuck slgnlnaseuiqa.

"It's always starving artist.
It's never starving art museum owner."

It's funny like that, but life has a way of ending early, everytime.

If you die in childhood, you don't get to witness puberty and growing up. See 'falling in love.'
If you die young, you don't get to experience the joys of marriage, having children, etc.
If you die a man, you don't get to experience the joys of wisdom, and the respect you're supposed to get when you're old.
If you die old, you die in regret, no matter what - because it's impossible not to feel regret, isn't it?

So either prepare yourselves for the upsets of your life, or stop regretting shit. Because shit would happen, even if earth stops spinning.

No one has figured out life, it's insane. Not until we're all unable to appreciate it anymore, ironic isn't it?

- Reaper says:
*man im tired of everyone talkng about how awesome michael jackson was
Danish A. says:
*yeah
*everyone just realized
- Reaper says:
*when they were the ones who sued him in the first place bhenchod.
Danish A. says:
*I know right
*and everyone
*including m
*me*
*was like
*heh, kiddie fucker.

^^ That's how fucked up we are, really.

Talk not ill of the dead. Where were you when the dead were alive? You had your chance to speak ill of them then, why'd you waste it?

Fuck.

JEEZ. I can't write anymore, forgive me.

Flying.

I just woke up, but I faintly remember the dream I had;

I'm inside a plane, and the plane's flying in between skyscrapers. The city below us is shrouded with clouds, but some skyscrapers are tall enough to be above them.

And it was beautiful.

My mum says it was a 'good dream'. What I would give to be able to fly.

Setting things free.

Fuck everything, seriously.

A car ran into a kitten's head today, pushing it's eyeballs out of it's sockets and leaving it fluttering on the ground, pouncing involuntarily a foot above the ground, shaken and not knowing what to do. It finally settled in the middle of the road, not moving, possibly brain dead, but still breathing.

Breathing, but not alive. For I will not call that living. I refuse to.

The only thing that I thought to do, was relieve the cat of it's misery. To kill it. It's promised a better world after, too, isn't it? Or did the cat not believe in God either?

I can't be sure of that, but while all my friends prompted me and a very close friend of mine to just let it go, I insisted we finish the job. For the cat wasn't living, and taking it out of it's misery should be looked at as a noble deed. Or actually, I didn't care if it is or not.

So we ran it over, probably one of the hardest things to do, taking the life of a breathing organism. Or not. Just setting it free.

So, do I feel guilty? Possibly a little. But I'm angry at myself for feeling guilty. For I shouldn't. You can not kill what you did not create? Well, I can't witness suffering either. I did the right thing. Yet I hate myself for it at the moment. But above all that, I hate myself for hating myself for it.

Fuck the world. Life isn't fair anyway.

Morning.

I wake up with this pain on the left side of my skull. I stretch open my jaw until I hear it crack, and feel my muscles relax a bit. Then I do the same with my neck, by circling my head in a 360 motion.

I don't feel like getting out of bed, I really don't.

My stomach hurts, and I can feel the nothing inside it. Other than stomach acid of course. I can feel that, and it hurts.

I feel weak, but I have to get up, without wanting to.

I take a look at my cell phone, and it's 7.15 AM. Great. I can see how this day is going to go ...

Self inflicted scars.

We were walking together, watching the waves crash into each other. The birds sang, as we walked together, acknowledging each other's presence, wanting to hold hands, but not doing so. In our heads, we knew, how much we'd both love that. Being able to be, what we were once.

A group of children ran by, happy and content with life. The weather was perfect. It was warm, and a breeze would visit every now and then. Her hair flew each time it did, and I couldn't help but stare. She acted oblivious, but I knew she knew. She just wouldn't show it, but in her mind she blushed. And her cheeks showed it.

Everything was perfect. Except for the lump in my throat, that would find it's way there, every now and then. Except for the churning in my stomach, the gloom I felt inside my chest. Which would always find it's way, somehow, every now and then. I tried ignoring it, and it worked to a certain extent. But in our minds we knew we wanted it so bad. To be able to hold hands, and just walk, and indulge in conversations we didn't want to have. Conversations we hated, but smiled involuntarily anyway.

We walked to the benches, and decided to sit down. The wind blew, the clouds parted, the sun shone brighter. The waves continued to collide, the sea breeze, like lemonade on a hot day. Birds of all kinds came to see. We didn't know what to call them, but we named names. It was cute, and everything we'd wanted, but we weren't holding hands. In our minds, we wanted to. We wanted to hold hands, to connect physically, on the level we connected on mentally. Spiritually. But we couldn't. We wouldn't. We shouldn't.

We shouldn't have. But it was all over. As abruptly as it started. We held hands. We kissed, we cried, we laughed together, voluntarily now, and we stared in each others eyes. We looked. We saw the ages we had gone through together. The times we had shared, the feelings we had once experienced. But the lump wouldn't go away. The void couldn't be filled anymore. We struggled to decide, whether it was true or not. Whether we were just playing games with each other. We probably were.

She cried as we walked, not uttering anymore words. Made our way back to where we came from. The waves had stopped, and the sun was clouded. The sunshine had disappeared, and the birds weren't singing anymore. The only sounds that fell in my years were the cries and whimpers of a heart broken. Not by anyone else, for time mends scars caused by other people. These were self inflicted scars, and self inflicted damage that would never go away. We both knew it, in our minds. But we had denied it for so long. We would disagree on agreeing, and we would agree to disagree.
For so long it had worked. But the lump wouldn't go away, there was nothing that could settle in the void.

It was all over. The last drop of tears, her and mine, we promised ourselves would be the last bit of emotions we felt for each other. At least I did. Forever, I decided.

We walked, and she insisted on holding hands. Insisted on making things work. Insisted on the waves to start moving again, for the birds to start singing again, for the sun to shine again. But it wouldn't work. The lump was permanent now, and the void would go on forever.

And it wasn't the first end we had experienced. It was one of many. But the last of it's kind.

Riddle me this.

Bad things aren't limited to bad people.
Bad things happen to good people too. And good things happen to bad people, too.

So what is to stop someone from being bad? Where is the motivation to being good?

I've seen doing things the wrong way has achieved far better results anyway. Tricking people into things is easier and takes lesser time, than explaining things. It's funny.

But everything happens for a reason right? So according to that, all the idiots and stupid people in the world were born, just so smart people could take advantage of them and help themselves.

It goes without saying, not like that hasn't been happening for as long as we've had planet Earth.

Does Karma exist? Really? If it does, than it's definitely broken and God hasn't gotten around to fixing it yet.

Even if we believe in God or not, how exactly is it changing anything? Atheists are still alive and well, and that too in the life that we're certain of. How is that fair?

We are handed our religions are birth, we rarely get to choose them, and whatever we're taught at an early age, we'd rather stick with that, right? Can't treason against God and religion, not most people do. Then how is it someone's fault if he's born to a religion that isn't the "right" one, and doesn't have the Real God directing it?

If I come clean, I have to say; I probably wouldn't be a muslim if I wasn't born in a muslim household. Does that mean I'd be going to hell, and wouldn't get 72 virgins? How would it be my fault, anyway?

Fin.

Michael Jackson

How does the world's best selling artist's life end like it did?

The reason he was going ahead with the last concert? To pay off debt and bills, and to survive.

Reminds me of Mozart - another genius that met death without riches, even after contributing so much to the world.

MJ, they say he wasn't eating anymore, cancer was taking over his body, he was hooked to various painkillers, and investigation after his death shows how needle marks covered his whole body.

It's a pity. The man who owned empires and lived like a King, had to go this way.

Covered in debt, and struggling to survive.

R.I.P.

Bored.

__________________________________________________
/ /
/ I was so bored, /
/ that I decided to make /
/ this typewriter. /
/ /
/ - Danish. /
/ /
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Cute

The irony.

Cute girls are not single, BECAUSE they are cute. What the hell?

Almost every cute girl has a boyfriend already. BECAUSE she's cute! What the hell?

Not only the 'good looking' cute. I mean the overall cute. Cute in every way, cute.

How hard is it then, to look for a single cute female? Very.

*sigh*
Depressing.

Grassy Knolls.

::

I was just reading back to 2003, all my old posts and what not, and I've realized. It's amusing, the pace life is going at. Living in first person, it may not seem that way. But take a step back, and watch it pass you by .. we're circling the sun, and it's pretty much a big deal. We just don't realize it, we're too busy circling things ourselves.

I'm having this mood-swing thing, I can't describe it. Somehow, I just feel like I'm missing out on something, somewhere. There's this gap, inside my soul - as lame as that sounds, but I can't fill it. Does that make any sense to anyone?

So I stop to wonder. What is it, that I don't have? There's nothing I don't have. I have everything I could want... everything realistic, anyway. Here are some things I still want;

The ability to fly. I would love, just taking off, landing feet away from population. Looking over the world, closer to the stars than everyone below me. That's why I probably keep seeing skies and airplanes in my dreams. And why my photo gallery consists of more sky photos, than, well, other things.

The ability to read minds. See people for what they really are. I fail at that. All ways, all the time, no lie. Not because I can't tell when a person is actually nice on the inside, no. I fail at that, because I take humans to be peaceful, happy and kind people. But it always turns out the other way around. Ironic?

I've realized, the reason we don't have world peace - is not because we're different. It's because we're all so alike, sheep that we are. And we'll kill each other for each last bit and strand of grass.

"We make war, that we may live in peace."


...

I don't know what I was writing about, or why. I can read what I was writing - but it's lost it's meaning. *Sigh*

I used to be such an idiot. I've changed though ... I've realized how desperate for attention I was ... was? ... I've changed though ... right?

See, I kept begging people to email me. In every, God-damn post. Every post. 22 posts in an year, and I've actually asked the following question a number of times;

"Does anyone even read this stuff?"

But I kept going, for who knows what reason. And now I have 5-6 years of blog posts. Maybe I really was writing for myself. That's the only logical explanation I can come up with.

I would've made such good friends with Aristotle. Or Socrates. Or Machiavelli, actually. Would've learned a lot. Things books can't teach. Yes, there exist things like that.

How about a little random, this and that?

~~

Nom, nom, nom.
Scooters, vacation, fall. April. *sigh*


It's quiet, but in my mind, I shout
It's lonely now, where I lie about
I lay alone, on this grassy knoll
though we walked together, when I set out

star gazing, you're never really alone
around you lays the rest of the night
dark sky, the real reason stars shine
we just don't see beyond their light


::


Remember the Sopranos series finale?

Tobacco

Obama signs historic tobacco law

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090622/pl_afp/healthuspoliticstobaccoobama
by Stephen Collinson – 41 mins ago

WASHINGTON (AFP) – US President Barack Obama Monday signed into law a bill giving the government historic powers to curb cigarette makers, declaring the move emblematic of the change he is bringing to Washington.
Obama affixed his signature to the measure with a nod to his own struggles to kick the habit, and lamented the fact that 1,000 people under the age of 18 become regular smokers every day, courting a range of grave health risks.
"I know, I was one of these teenagers, and so I know how difficult it can be to break this habit when it's been with you for a long time," Obama said.
"I also know that kids today don't just start smoking for no reason -- they're aggressively targeted as customers by the tobacco industry.
"They're exposed to a constant and insidious barrage of advertising where they live, where they learn, and where they play."
The law grants the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), a regulatory body, the authority to ban flavorings added to some tobacco products and require tough new warning labels, in a bid to lessen tobacco use among young people.
Obama argued that the bill's passage was just the latest sign that he was living up to his promise to forge fundamental political reform.
"When I ran for president, I did so because I believed that, despite the power of the status quo and the influence of special interests, it was possible for us to bring change to Washington," Obama said.
"And today, despite decades of lobbying and advertising by the tobacco industry, we passed a law to help protect the next generation of Americans from growing up with a deadly habit that so many of our generation have lived with."
Under the new law, the FDA will create a new Center for Tobacco Products to oversee the science-based regulation of tobacco products in the United States.
It bans cigarettes dominantly flavored with candy, fruit and spice by October this year, and forces tobacco firms and importers to submit information to the FDA about ingredients and additives in tobacco products.
The measure places strict limits on tobacco advertising in publications with a significant teenage readership, and bans the use of words like "mild" or "light" in advertisements that make tobacco products seem safer.
The FDA will now be required to enforce a rule banning all outdoor tobacco advertising within 1,000 feet of schools and playgrounds, and the bill ends all tobacco-brand sponsorship of sport and entertainment events.
Under the measure, tobacco companies must disclose to the FDA the ingredients in their products, and allow the agency to require changes to protect public health, though not to reduce nicotine content to zero or ban a class of tobacco products.
Larger and more specific health warnings will now have to cover the top third of the front and rear panels of tobacco product packages and the FDA will have the power to require graphic warning labels that cover half of the front and rear panels.
The bill was backed by health groups like the American Cancer Society, the American Heart Association and the American Lung Association for its curbs on smoking, the number one cause of preventable death in the United States.
Senator Edward Kennedy, who is battling brain cancer, warmly welcomed the bill's passage into law, after years of fighting to protect children from tobacco advertising.
"Decade after decade, Big Tobacco has seduced millions of teenagers into lifetimes of addiction and premature death," Kennedy said.
"Enactment of this legislation will finally put a stop to that.
"It is truly a life-saving act, and a welcome demonstration that this Congress is capable of enacting major health reform."
Obama has fought a public battle to give up smoking, and promised his wife he would quit when he ran for president -- but he has admitted succumbing to the occasional cigarette several times since.
Obama's spokesman Robert Gibbs on Monday said he had not asked the president whether he was still smoking.

The road not travelled by anymore

The one thing I found that could make me happy, and that was ruined too, not too long ago.
The one thing I thought was worth living for, and spending an eternity fighting for, and throwing myself away for. And you ruined it. Forever, presumably.

And now I have nothing left. It's ironic - I've never been sad and happy about something at the same time before. Thanks a lot, though, my eyes are open now. And I'm not going back.

let go of expectations, Close all the doors,
nothing will pass through here anymore
can't expect anyone to come along
nothing left here for anyone to come looking for

Perfect Circle - 3 Libras.

threw you the obvious
and you flew with it on your back,
a name in your recollection,
thrown down among a million same.

difficult not to feel a little bit, disappointed
and passed over
when i've looked right through
to see you naked and oblivious

and you don't
see
me

but I threw you the obvious
just to see if there's more behind the eyes
of a fallen angel,
the eyes of a tragedy.

here I am expecting just a little bit
too much from
the wounded.

but I see through it all
and see you.

so I threw you the obvious
to see what occurs
behind the eyes of a fallen angel,
eyes of a tragedy.

Oh, well. Apparently nothing.

you don't see me.
you don't see me at all.

Anger Management.

Fuck this. Seriously.

Fuck the world, fuck everything. Fuck our existence, fuck why we're here. Does it even matter? Why we're here? No, it doesn't. We should just fucking give up. Give up, looking for an answer. Seriously.

I mean - fuck the world, fuck everyone in it. No one really gives a shit, we're all leading everyone else down into the drain.

Fuck trust, fuck respect, fuck everything. Fuck the world.

Fuck the law, fuck the government. Fuck the Illuminati.

Fuck Socrates, fuck Chuck Palahniuk and Stephen King, fuck Slipknot.

Fuck everyone and everything, it doesn't fucking matter anymore - everything's a fucking lie, and everyone's a fucking hypocrite.

Fuck this blog, fuck your blog, fuck everyone else's blog.

Fuck technology, fuck spirituality, fuck karma, and fuck this all.

Fuck love, fuck fidelity, fuck information technology, fuck this all.

Fuck myspace, facebook, starbucks, iphones, and Paris Hilton.

Fuck your mocha latte, fuck tall and grande', fuck it all.

Fuck, this, shit.

Oh, and fuck my thoughts, opinions, and Fuck Me. I'm nothing more than a fucking pessimist that would love seeing everything going down in flames.

Nicotine.

It's funny how people lie. Specially people in charge, in control, people with power. Power is corrupting, Abraham Lincoln agreed. It's what got John F. Kennedy killed.

It's amazing, really, how they fed our brains with lies, at such an early stage. Childhood, to be precise. Science class, to be exact. Darwin's theory of evolution, to pin point.

Didn't force these ideas, but so cleverly programmed and fed them to us. And the human brain is only so sufficient, we need not question, right? We never do. No one ever does. It's the blindfolds that are strapped across our sight, before we can even open our mouths to protest. It's sheer genius, really.

My science book told me, Nicotine - most commonly found in cigarettes - is harmful to the body. Years after that, I find an article stating facts that no one is ever told. About how nicotine is actually an organic substance, commonly found in tomatoes, to be precise, and makes up our daily digestion process, and food intake. You don't say.

It's funny really, but I never quite got how anything that just naturally grows, sprouts out from under the dirt, could ever be harmful. Marijuana for instance. But let's put aside illegal drugs for a minute, and talk about the drugs that kill us, but are sold widely across the world. And ironically, Marijuana, that is proven to NOT be harmful at all (except for the THC which is easily filtered out via water pipes) is banned, illegal, and shunned from society. It's funny, really.

But here's the deal, right. Cigarettes equal big money. Economical growth, in fact. They've been making them and selling them for all these years, in a way, making money via the deaths of smokers all across the world. Think Iraq, but on a longer term.

Coming back to my argument, tomatoes actually contain nicotine. In FACT, Digest this:

"nicotine in its natural form is totally non-toxic. In fact, there is nicotine in tomatoes and potatoes and it is hence consumed every day.

There have been a number of research studies to test the effects of the natural nicotine as depression medication and the overall verdict is that it is indeed helpful in reversing depression successfully."

Fact: Nicotine is safe and non toxic
Fact – We consume it everyday

It’s present in many common foods such as potatoes, tomatoes chillies and tea

Fact – Nicotine is good for you.

It improves memory, concentration and mood, by influencing the neuro transmitters in the brain and is the subject of intense medical research, to treat diseases such as
Parkinson’s and Altzeimer’s Disease, depression and Attention disorders.

I'm speechless. Now, one could argue, that facts such as these are not yet universally known. Not a lot of people know about things like this.

But then again; Why the fuck not?

My science book, was ages ago. Research such as this, was probably not done back then. Right? Marijuana was illegalized ages ago. Are you telling me it has changed over the years? Evolved maybe, right? Darwinized, correct?

Wrong.

There are only SEVEN people in the United States right now that can smoke Marijuana freely, wherever they want. Medical Marijuana, to be exact, but seriously - what difference does a name make?

Irv Rosenfeld's been smoking "Medical" Marijuana for 25 years of his life. He is alive, and well, and has been in the top shape for years. Watch his testimony here and Read all about him here.

He has no lung problems, his body works perfectly. In fact, he had a birth defect, concerning his bones (I'm not sure of the details but the links posted above has all the info covered) and Marijuana has been the only 'drug' that's helped him survive all these years. Fact. His body, after smoking Marijuana for 25 years, has been in way better shape, than the bodies of people that have smoked Cigarettes for, say, less than 15 years.

I just said cigarettes are bad, in an article I'm posting, claiming Nicotine to be unharmful. Well, here's some more facts.


Cigarettes contain MORE than 4000 chemicals in them. Which include Pesticides, Tar, Ammonia, Carbon Monoxide and Arsenic (rat poison), to name a few.


Is Nicotine Good For The Heart?

I'm just going to sum this up, by asking you to pray and hope with me - that mankind DOES actually evolve. Evolve, from the idiots that we have been. Hope with me, for a smarter future (which is hard to imagine, really, considering what we've put ourselves, and everyone else through, all these years.) And if that's not possible, let's hope mankind can survive with all this stupidity, caused by ignorance and the inability to even ask questions. Instead, we all follow - I hate to say it over and over - like Sheep.

Fear of finding out, and then bearing the responsibility? Is that even possible?

Crazier things have happened so far.

Urban Definitions, anyone?

As I suffer from nicotine withdrawal syndrome (Anger, headache-ness, frustration at everything, unable to properly function), I feel like deviating my focus from that particular pain in the neck, to something ... well, else.

Bear in mind, my brain is NOT working properly at the moment. As I wait for some food, and ponder the whereabouts of my fucked up topyfying bastard friends, I surf urban definitions, and here I present them to you. Because of the sheer genius with which they were thought up. Am I making any sense, by the way? Because I can't tell.

chai anxiety
Feeling overwhelmed by the ridiculous number of options at the coffee shop.
Venti? Double soy-based foam? A shot of what? Yeesh I have chai anxiety -- I need some caffeine!

Caps Lock Voice
When a normally calm person has to raise their voice and use an authortative tone. It is the equivalent to using the caps lock key in the digital world.
Sara tried to get an attitude with me yesterday and I had to turn on my caps lock voice and put her in check.
Chris was being run over at work, so Jason told him it was time to turn on his caps lock voice.


Neighbornet
What you get when you connect to your neighbor's wireless (or wired, for that matter) internet, with or without his or her knowledge.
Didja hear? Johnny connected his wireless ethernet card to his neighbor's wireless network, and now he's got neighbornet!

missing link
A man who is covered head to toe with thick and wiry hair. He's so hairy, he's the missing link that connects humans to apes.

Life Password
The password that you use for every website, email account, facebook, twitter, everything. Having a 'life password' is not a good idea, but everyone does it.

Facebookemon
The term used for the collection of people, on your Facebook friends list, that you don’t actually talk to or know in real life. Related to popular tv program and game pokeamon, where the aim is to collect as many diffrent Pocket Monsters as possible.
Dave - "Hey, my friends collection is getting up to two hundred"

Steve - "How many do you really know? go admit it, most of them are Facebookemon"

John - "Gotta catch em all, gotta catch em all"

Social Notworking
The practice of spending time unproductively on social-networking websites, especially when one should be working.
Joe - Hey, Mark is constantly updating his Facebook status, does he not have any work to do?

John - His company obviously doesnt realise how much Social Notworking he is doing!

Lifeless

I never thought Riyadh would be so ... lifeless.

There is absolutely NOTHING to do in this country. Seriously.

Someone do something interesting =(

Tell me about?

You know what's hilarious?

Writer's block.

This book lays on the table as I write this, called "Tell me about?" And under the title, it says "Who was king of the franks?", "What is a pangolin?", "Can plants feel?"

"Answers to hundreds of questions."

This is probably why books say "Best Selling" and the list is called that too. It's never "Best Author" or "This book was on top of the New York's very well written list!"

Best Selling. Selling. And this book on my table had that potential - which prompted the publishers to warm up the printers.

But my question to you is - who gives a flying fuck about the king of the franks? The only franks I'm concerned with are the ones in between my hot dog bun.

Because I've realized, that information like that bears no fruits, has no use.

Because it's all about the green. Best selling, not best written. Do not forget.

Trying to make myself happy.

butterscotch. name, not the flavor.

cookie dough.

cookies and cream.

colors.

yellow, orange.

the sky.

blue.

more colors.

Colors we don't know of yet .. hmm .. are there? More colors that those, that we know of?

The sky. Clouds. Lots of grass. And infinite sky. 1:1 sky-grass ratio.

Water. Enough to drink, too little to drown in.

Music. Guitars.

Beautiful women.

Love.

Chocolate.

Sugar.

Soda.

Black.

Darkness.

Loneliness.

... definitely deviating ...

losing control of thoughts. definitely bipolar.

Chocolate milk - spilled on brother's laptop. Shit.

Focus. Let's get to "Fuck, Yes!" What's that? You shall find out.

I'm still alive.

"Is something wrong?" she said.
Of course, there is.
"You're still alive," she said.
Oh, and do I deserve to be? Is that the question? And if so, who answers?

"I hope that girl hurts you more than I did," she said.

Compassion.

Saw someone else's blog today, which is rare, really, but Wijdan called it 'kinda funny' so I had to check it out.

There, I found this quiz, and since I love quizzes, I took it. Here's my result:

People Envy Your Compassion

You have a kind heart and an unusual empathy for all living creatures. You tend to absorb others' happiness and pain.
People envy your compassion, and more importantly, the connections it helps you build. And compassionate as you are, you feel for them.

The funny thing is, I have a feeling I'm a little too compassionate. Too compassionate for my own good, in fact. Irony works that way, and karma is a myth.

?

Experiment.

If you came and saw this post by yourself, please leave a comment WITH your name.

Thanks.

Back home!

It's amazing. Being back home after so long - I realize, I couldn't foresee just how much I really missed my family.

Everything tastes a lot better, it's weird. It's like being in love, I can't shake this smile off my face.

The luxury of getting food without doing anything, not having to do the dishes, or even iron your clothes.

Even though I knew I had to realize this, and would after being so far away from home for so long - it's still ...

I'm too blown away for words right now =)

Twenty years after 1989.

This is not how I planned it, no. In my mind I thought I'd be at home right now, after some 'fun fun' with my friends and family.

But as fate would have it, I'm still in Philadelphia, with my bags packed neatly (because I refuse to open them until I reach home) and I just ate a piece of chocolate cake that tasted like crap. Oh, and I got it smothered on my face too, because somehow, even though I couldn't actually do anything about my ''birthday'' and didn't even have anyone around, my room-mate still found it funny to grab a handful and shove it on my face. Go figure.

So anyway, keeping with the tradition of my blog for years now, I'm going to write another post on the day I was born. Well, not exactly the day I was born, 20 years after that, but you know what I'm saying.

Foul mood or not, I'm still alive, right? And will hopefully stay this way for another fiddy or sixty years, right. Wonder if I'll still be writing a blog .. hmm ..
Anyhow.

What was funny about this year was, that everyone wished me on both the 28th and 29th (according to American time) because everyone called when it struck 12 wherever they were. How neat, no?

I reckon I'm way over my head for a 20 year old, I've probably been into and seen more shit than the average 30 year old does, and I'm glad. Live fast, die young. Or, more like, live fast, and try hard not to die young. And it's working so far.

Just because I'm so full of myself, and self-praise makes me feel better, let's take this in that direction. I'm happy, because a lot of people close to me have added to my wisdom. For example, my friends have taught me a lot of ways in which NOT to do things. I'll try to list some things here.

Sarmad has taught me how NOT to drive cars.
LALA has taught me how NOT to go crazy with alcohol.
Adeel has taught me how NOT to hit on girls.
Finky has taught me ... just never to trust him with my life.
Gibran has taught me how NOT to do anything at all.

BUT, my friends have also taught me a lot of things over the years.

LALA has taught me how to say Fuck All, and not give a shit.
Sarmad has taught me to get a bat signal on the roof of every building I ever live in.
Finky has taught me NEVER to sit in cars with him.
Adeel has taught me ... well, what bus takes you where in Philadelphia.

It's been one hell of a ride. In fact, when people say life is short? I have to wonder what they're talking about. Life is by far one of the longest things we ever get to experience. And it's been crazy, till this point, and I don't see it slowing down anytime soon. I love it.

I have to give a shout out to Nobia who I haven't been in contact for the longest while. Shout out to everyone else that I'll probably forget to give a shout out too, not because I'll probably forget, but because ..

I'd like to take this time to wish someone I knew once a Happy Birthday. And even though, a lot has changed since then. And I mean a LOT. This day will still be THE day I was born ... and that person was born ... and the reason we actually met, to begin with.

A year wiser, and still plain stupid. That's how I like to roll. Actually, the way I like to roll is with some Psychedelic shit in the background, and mixed with cigarette tobacco, but you know what I'm saying. Plain stupid, yes. Still not loving Po lees. Still got love, for the chocolate-y treats. Still poop, and sometimes pee.

I can so write rap songs. Can't touch this.

Ok, who else to thank ... ummm, I can probably thank a LOT of people for absolutely no reason like I did last year, but I'm not doing that shit anymore, no. The people that really made this year special, let's see.

Amina. You've fixed me, messed me up, fixed me, messed me up. I know you people, reading this, cursing me under your breath. Don't judge me, I made a stupid mistake, and I'm still going to make more in the future - voluntarily and/or involuntarily - go worry about your own mistakes. So anyway, Thanks for whatever you've given me, or taken away from me - because what didn't kill me only made me stronger. God as my witness.

Moving on ... how about Dagda, huh? I don't know if you're going to read this or not mate, but you kick butt. One day, I hope of being a smartass like you. Honestly. With your hypnosis and shit, dude, you kick butt.

How about his younger brother Saad "Diesel" Saquib. Asshole that he is, he once taught me a valuable lesson, and I still remember it to this day. It's been awesome, all this time I've known you and looked up to you. Until I found out your brother is way cooler, of course =p (go scare someone else with your evil.)

Sarmad. Asshole, I know he'll probably ask me why his name was just mentioned once. HERE. Chawal.

Wijdan - I never knew I'd find someone so similar to Sarmad. In fact, I was probably praying to God that I don't. But works in mysterious ways, He does. Found this carbon copy, I did. But it's all good, they kinda cancel each other out. Oh, and Wijdan does totally kick butt to the amount that Sarmad does. And kicking butt has always been at a high regard in my book.

I've learned a lot this year, I really have. Experienced and seen a lot, too. Compared to last year anyway. And even though I hate aging, I really do. Live forever, I wish I could. So much more left to learn, so much more I have to know, it's just crazy. So Thanks to everyone that's been with me since last year - everyone that hung on for the ride a year longer, and everyone that I met in the meanwhile. Because who am I kidding - one way or the other I bet everyone taught me how To or NOT to do something. Or maybe just brought me an inch closer to one of the many goals in my life - to understand people a little better.

I have to thank God up there, for making me so damn fit. Physically, Mentally, Kick-ass-ically. I mean, seriously. Oh, and also because, it's pretty much a miracle I'm sitting in Philadelphia typing this right now. I'm not dead, that's something too. I've gotten the best "schooling education" that I have in ages. Or probably ever since I was born, because the teachers and professors actually know more than what's in the book's they're holding. And no longer do I feel smarter than the person standing in front of the class. I'm glad, I feel like a huge weigh's been lifted off my chest, for some odd reason. I'm on the receiving end for once - I'm LEARNING in school. It's a miracle, not that I made it this far - fuck, I worked my ass off for this. It's a miracle, because I didn't really think Education ever had anything to do with schooling systems. I have been wronged. Weird.

But I maintain my objective, like Mark Twain said; Not to let my schooling get in the way of my education. And to continue selling ice to Eskimos. That's how it works, uh-huh. And I kick ass at it, so why not.

Furthermore, let me give a few shout outs to, let's see .. Fatimami. I didn't think I'd ever find, in a million years, someone worth talking to in a chatroom called "Desi Chat." You've proven me wrong too. I mean, seriously.

Maira, thanks for reading my blog for all this time, and spreading the word all the way to your uni in Karachi. Say hi to your 'class-mates' for me. =p

I just typed in the title for the post, and damn. I do NOT want to age anymore. 18 was where it was, man. I mean, I realize Age is just a number - but I fear the fact that no one else realizes that! Or do they? Because people all around me act dumb as shit, and never their own age, stupidity is at an all time rise, people fail to see beyond the cover of the book - it's crazy. And I'm just trying to see how to make that work for me ...

Salma, Salwa, Kanchan - shout out, because you've spread the word too. Thanks for being here, for wishing me a happy birthday, for being you, and ... yeah, that's about it. Thanks.

Sheeni. You're evil, and we all know that about now. How about turn it down a couple of notches, it's getting old, seriously. =p Still love you though!

Who else .. hmm .. Zule, you're an idiot. Anum, you're a bigger idiot.

My, this post has gotten long. And I still feel like I'm missing so many people.

Aah, how about the rest of the world? Thanks for giving me numerous reasons to HATE all the things that you do. Thanks for being stupid, at the most odd of times. Thanks for making no sense, for doing things so pointless, for being so much like SHEEP. Thanks for giving me things to Rant about, to show my anger and hate. For making me feel so much smarter, for making me realize, how lucky I am not to be eating grass like you are. For loving the iphone, thank you, idiots. For fueling the corporate machine. For NOT sticking it to the man, because you LOVE the man and don't even realize it. For being so STUPID and realizing it AFTER the war in Iraq. For, drinking out of your Grande' cups of Coffee, for chewing on donuts even if they taste like shit - but just for the sake of chewing on donuts. For thinking Kim Kardashian is hot, even though deep down inside we all know - you wouldn't want to be on the camera in a sex tape with her either. Off camera goes though, right?

For BUYING that tape. God dammit, there's not much to see in there that's not all over the internet already! Images.google.com, idiot.

For campers all over Call of Duty 5 online. Get a fucking life. If you're playing ONLY to win, then you're not winning anything other than the title of FUCKING RETARD.

For the people that judge people without wondering why they do, what they do. For judging strippers, whores, prostitutes, and porn stars, but not giving a flying fuck about what REALLY ticks in that teeny tiny head. Seriously. Psychology ftw.

For asking questions, demanding answers. Not just sitting back, and watching shit hit the fan. Please, people. ASK. FIGURE OUT, FOR FUCK'S SAKE. "WHY?" is in the dictionaries for a REASON.

For everyone reading this blog post right now. For everyone that's made my life miserable, for everyone that's made it amazing. For everyone' that's going to make my life miserable, and for everyone that's not planning it anytime soon.

Thank you. I love you, people. You fuel my engines, you give me shit to write about. Please, don't stop killing each other, writers have got to have something to write about, people need something to talk about. We can't have peace, without war =)

I feel like I'm diverting from my mission, deviating from my objective. How about a big round of applause to Life, huh? To Aging. To, Living!

To experiencing, to learning. To finding out, to getting our hearts broken, to falling in love. To, cheat, to lie, to be lied to, to be cheated to. To laugh, to cry, to experience joy and pain.

To be here on planet Earth, to have a mind that works (almost, for some people). To have a heart that's making blood work. For a Soul that most people fail to see or acknowledge.

I've just turned twenty, I have no clue what the fuck I've been writing about for half this blog post, and I'm pissed for no reason what-so-ever. So, let me exit while I'm still on top, eh?

As I was saying - you people Kick Ass. Not as much as me, of course, but you're trying, nonetheless. Keep at it.

Love each and everyone of you for being here! xoxo for all the females, and .. well, high-fives or some shit for the guys. Or maybe just like a wave, from a distance. You know like a .. like a nod or something.

- Danish Arif.

You know what sucks?

I was scheduled to fly on the 27th, reach Riyadh on the 28th. And I could turn 20 with my parents. Perfect, right?

You need a transit visa, even if you're on a plane going to fucking Canada. Even if the layover is just one hour, and you don't get out of the God damn plane, you still need a transit visa. Go figure. Stupid Canadians.

So, I tried cancelling my flight, ended up going back home, to find out that the flight can not be re-scheduled, and I'd have to pay a 900 dollar fee to fly on a further date. Seriously. What the fuck?

Do NOT buy tickets from www.vayama.com. They suck cocks in hell. So does their outsourced customer support team, that I called 7 times yesterday, to talk to 4 different people, that gave me 4 different answers. And then I got an email, which said something else.

Seriously. Wtf?! So you can't afford to run a company, and therefore, you outsource and hire people all the way in India that don't even know how to do what they are doing. And on top of that, you pay that minimum wage. Seriously. Wtf? But then again, I guess paying minimum wage to someone that doesn't even know what they're doing IS generosity, if not plain dumbass-ness.

So I'm still in Philadelphia, 2000 dollars short, and pissed off like never before. Oh, and I turn 20 in a few hours. It doesn't get any worse.

Wake me up when the floor stops spinning.

I had a very crazy last night, and proof is this Wolverine Slurpee glass that I paid 2 dollars for last night and don't even remember buying.

But I can believe I bought it; it has those holographic image things, and I heard slurpee tastes REALLY good ... at times ... like last night ...

The apartment is a mess. And not just your average mess, no. See, two days ago we bought a 12 pack of pepsi. And there are cans all over the floor. If I fish my hand below the bed right now, I can bet I'll grab at least 2 cans right now.

I'm still really dizzy, it's a miracle I even woke up so early. 1.59 PM. New record.

Porcupine Tree sounds so good in the morning, it's amazing.

My room mate is nowhere to be found, probably went out on an errand or something.

I needed a new debit card, lost mine 3 weeks ago, a new one's been issued, but this country's got so many damn holidays, and apparently today's the Memorial Day. I have no idea what that is, ignorant piece of crap that I am, and all I know is - that the bank is not open.

I have a bag of chips besides me - half empty (or half full) and it's been completely crushed, probably because I've been sleeping on it. Clothes lay all around me as I type this, so do empty bottles of seven up and powerade, more packs of chips, empty chocolate wrappers, and aluminum foil everywhere. With four neat holes on it, turned black, it's apparent someone's been burning something on it.

Oops, my Iphone .. Damn it .. Omnia is ringing. Be right back.

...

[2 minutes later]

The sun shines through the window, and hurts my eyes. But it's the kind of hurt I like. It's the hurt that tells me, that the glistering light is touching the Adrenaline gland behind my eyes, trying to pump epinephrine in my body. And it seems to be working too.

More empty bottles .. or Orange juice, Dayquil and Ketchup. A bowl of Frosted flakes. And a lot of paper.

Right under my bed, tissue paper covers the carpet, turned brown - soaking up spilled pepsi. From last night, or the one before that, I don't remember anymore - but someone should've thrown that out. Which reminds me, I was supposed to take out the trash last night. Bummer.

My flight is in a few days, on the [censored] to be exact. I'll land in Riyadh on the [censored] at [censored] and be home at [censored]!!

Can't think of anything else to write about, so I'm going to go ahead and microwave the pizza I ordered last night, before making it disappear.

<3

Prison Break

I can't believe it.

After 4 and a half years that I've watched it, it has ended. Out of nowhere too. I was not expecting this. It almost feels like a breakup. How will my life go on? Pretty soon I'll be angry at Prison Break. It's Prison Break's loss, not mine. But why did it have to end this way?

I mean seriously. What, the fuck? I'm not going to ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen it yet, because a dumbfuck, inbred retard, ruined it for me by posting the ending on his fucking facebook status (get a life, seriously.) I know that's ironic, I'm writing a blog post about the show myself - but at least I'm not spoiling anything for anyone! It's always been a cliffhanger, Prison Break watchers, hasn't it? But seriously. What the fuck.

Prison Break will be missed. For years, me and my friends have discussed every episode in detail. Most of the time I've seen the future, concerning Michael Schofield's fate and everyone else's too. Other times they just caught me with a big surprised look on my face. And this particularly would've been one of those moments if a tool hadn't ruined it for me.

But that doesn't change the fact that it has actually ended. No more Prison Break. And Supernatural is also on hiatus, considering the Season ending. Then it's Season 5, which is probably also going to be the last Supernatural season.

What am I going to make assumptions and prophecies about, then?

I'm honestly depressed now. Yes, about a TV show. You wouldn't know if you haven't been watching something for 4 and a half years. I know, it's sad, and almost pathetic. But what can I say, I get attached to masterful storytelling and it's characters.

My list of story heroes only consisted of Edmond Dantes from The Count of Monte Cristo till now. But I've added Michael Schofield.

On a side note, please acknowledge that this post is not lame at all. Thank you.

Faith.

When I was a curious young lad, of around 4 or 5 years, I remember of a time when my ticking brain grew curious about God.

After hearing God's argument and his side of the story, growing up in a Muslim household, I had more questions than answers.

So I asked the person that apparently knew everything there was to know. My faithful and ever so wise - Mum.

If God truly does exist, why can't we see him? Million dollar question, coming from a child, my mother definitely needed to think a while, for a a valid response that would shun such questions in the future in my head, before they ever reached my tongue.

So after "We can't see everything, and everything that exists can't be seen," she gave up and decided to answer with a different approach, and to the best of her capabilities, she did.

She told me God was light. And what was light to a child? To me, apparently, Electricity was. In my mind, I had found God - he was in all the light bulbs and he was what enabled us to see in the dark, even though the meaning in my head at that time was purely literal.

But we must find out for ourselves, and no question is truly answered if we don't have an answer of our own. And therefore, I decided to 'test God.' To really see for myself, I decided to threaten the entity. Electricity, light - Light bulbs.

I argued, I told her I don't believe her, and to truly believe, I must find out for myself.

So I went ahead and touched a scorching light bulb.

And just how everything must have a beginning, there was my beginning to Faith.

The burning sensation on my hand, surely I had witnessed God's spite. I had found out, I had witnessed, my very first question pointed at faith had been answered.

"Now I must ask more," I must've said in my head.

Is it not proof, that all things begin at the bottom? For now the questions I ask are different and elaborate. They've evolved.

"Is it proof that God doesn't exist, or is it proof that the Devil does?"

Cheers to everyone that, like me, is still willing and trying to find out.

For no question is truly answered if we don't have an answer of our own.

Blindfolds - The ramblings of a mad man.

"You're a respected man," he said. "Keep it that way."

Something someone said to me, that I haven't been able to shake off.

It's funny then. What about self-respect, and what if I don't 'keep it that way' regarding that?

There's a funny way of hating everything else, but loving yourself. I'm at an extreme loss of words, and I feel helpless. I want to, I need to write. Something, to take all this off my mind.

The gift of writing, someone recently said, I have a way with words. I can sell ice to an eskimo, I said.

When guilt and depression kick in, who do you blame? For you had no choice, you were held in a gilded cage. By yourself.

But then you broke free of it, and you're free to spread your wings. But with the wind blowing in the other way, probably because you cursed not being free once.

For it being too good to be true, now you wish you went back inside. But it's broken, and there's no way. And you're outside, but lost, still not having your way. You're traveling, yes, going places; but on a track, not your own.

Is there really a freedom, a choice of free will? Is it really about being clever, and not being held against your will? Is it? Or can two and two work together, can you take risks for yourself? And not be shunned by labels, by ghosts of broken dreams past. Of broken wishes, of jealous winds, and bars of status quo.

Where's the Shangri-La. Isn't fiction man made too? Then if we're meant to travel on the path that we're on, where exactly is our freedom, and where do we stand? Do we have a voice for our objections, or are all objections overruled; by you, slave of the system, by them; slaves of the rule.

Not by choice, not by will; by what was asked at birth. Set free at birth, to be thrown inside a bigger womb. Where spreading our arms is as easy as blinking, but spreading our thoughts is a sin committed against God.

I ask you, the slaves, questions directed at the wrong wall. The wall I'm looking for is mightier, not any man made foolish wisdom.

For you learned from the fool before you, and a fool is teaching to me. The world is, our teacher, is it not? But teaches us idioticy that has been passed, from your master to mine, and me to my student.

Let's not label, let's not objectify. Let's just tighten the blindfolds, and walk closer to the edge. Lose balance, we already have - the only thing left to lose is this being. Self, is already gone, now only the accompanying limbs and bones wish to evolve.

Evolve as if evolution is true. Think as if thinking makes us stronger. Create larger walls, hate even more; but where does that put us? Let's just indulge deeper into the maze that's been created, let's just row boats for the evil we've elected.

Succumb to sin, we all do, yet hush our thoughts before they reach our mouths.
Shouldn't think that way, God forbid we say it out loud. But no one's watching our thoughts, thank God, let's just keep it in our skull. Shhhh.

For he did it, and everyone knows, let's shun him, and feel a bit better. About ourselves, God help us, who else is there, Holy enough, to feel anything for?

You've wronged, and I am perfect, for I follow the light. No asking questions, not checking to see if it's true, this blindfold shall remain on. I'm not making the mistake of taking it off, but you go ahead; tell me what's on the other side.

And when the light turns you blind, for you made the mistake; be sure to let me know. I wouldn't want to be caught catching a peek - I'm too good for that. Too good for anything. I'm too good to be true.

And slavery will never end, not for you, not for me. For there lives a slave inside of you, and we're all aware it's true.
But no one dare try to set it free, or even ask why it's there. We've lived on for a million years with it, why fight the current and risk being washed away?

Let's all just close our eyes, and tighten the blindfold instead.

It's a lot easier that way.

Bummer.

I start writing this, hoping it would make me feel just a little better about myself.

I was standing in my apartment, occupied by my roommate's Uncle and Aunt, and his Mum.

So, I'm standing in the other room, behind a wall, where they can't see me, with a song playing in my head, and me doing Amir Khan's dance, from the movie Ghulam. Yes, the one with my legs extended, my arms in the air like I'm holding an invisible box with both of them, and moving my head left and right, with my belly moving along too.
(See it here - Skip to 2:09)

Imagine that.

Now, I do this, expecting my roommate, that's in the other room too, to come join me so we can share the experience. But instead, his Aunt decides to see what the room is like.

So imagine an astonished look on my face, with my feet still extended, the invisible box still above my head, my belly stationary now, and my gaze paused at her face. Telling myself in the head that she's not real. Oh please God, let my roommate's aunt be a figment of my ever so vivid imagination.

But we don't always get what we want, do we.

She starts laughing, and I don't blame her, I would've laughed too. If I wasn't trying really really hard to not laugh, of course.

"Oye, exercise ho rahi hai?" She said.

And in my head I said, "kaash wohi kar raha hota, Aunty ..."

The Wonderful Act of Song Writing.

I completely hate myself right now, for having a pussycat dolls song stuck in my head. I mean sure, if I had a pussycat doll stuck in my head, that wouldn't be all that bad, because I'm not sure if I mentioned this before but - I love women, no doubt about it. But I just don't like it when they try their brains at thinking.

So I'm a sexist. Sue me.

"I can't, take it any longer,
thought that we were stronger,
all we do is linger."

But heck, that's just up to per with Nickelback lyrics. Chad Kroeger definitely puts his last brain cell to work with those songs. (If I dare call them that, in fear of disrespecting people that actually make good music.)

"Like a gift from the heavens, it was easy to tell,
It was love from above, that could save me from hell,
She had fire in her soul it was easy to see,
how the devil himself could be pulled out of me,
There were drums in the air as she started to dance,
Every soul in the room keeping time with there hands,"

I sure hope that is the result of an attempt at song writing under the influence of a 'drug'.
Oh, but there is more.

"I wanna be great like Elvis without the tassels
Hire eight body guards that love to beat up assholes
Sign a couple autographs
So I can eat my meals for free
I'll have the quesadilla, uh huh"

There's oh, so more.
In "If Everyone Cared", Chad tells us;

"If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
Then we'd see the day, when nobody died."

Ladies and Gentlemen, Chad Kroeger, with his modern adaptation of 'Imagine', but through the vocabulary of a four year old.

There there is 'Rhythm Is A Dancer' by "Snap". That's right, that's their name. Snap.

"I'm as serious as cancer,
When I say Rhythm is a Dancer."

And Razorlight's 'Somewhere Else';

"And I met a girl,
she asked me my name,
I told her what it was."

I think it's highly unlikely that ever happened. Oh, no, there most definitely is a song like that. I just think he's making up meeting a girl who asked his name.

And last but not the least, here's something from Oasis. They call it, 'Champagne Supernova';

"Slowly walking down the hall,
Faster than a cannonball,
Where were you when we were getting high?"

I really don't know where I was, but something tells me it was one hell of a party.

I leave you with a video of Nickleback being boo-ed off stage, at their own concert. Make sure you catch him flipping the crowd off at the end too. Priceless stuff.

Idioticy in Music.

Jesus Christ.

I am tired, of people that don't know how to even hold a musical instrument, or even have the most vague sense of music. Yet, they love commenting on videos that people that make very crappy music, and try to sell them off to the rest of the idiots from the bottom of the gene pool, upload.

Mindless, ignorant, and just plain idiotic. The music, and the audience.

If you think you can play guitar when you put the original song in the background (which is louder than your amplifier) and play out of tune with the actual studio recording of artists, with no idea what a metronome is; You are a dweeb. Please put that guitar down and get some education.

Ignorance is not bliss.

Spring.

Spring, has finally struck Philadelphia.

'Spring break' came and went, yet the leaves have just only started turning pink, white and green. Oh, the sheer beauty.





My professor suggested a few days ago that I try to get into the English Honors program. and I would like to thank him for making things even more confusing.

Confusion is a funny thing. Come to think of it, I find funny in weird places - don't I?

I'm confused about life, our purpose on earth, about what 'the future holds' (as cliche' as that sounds, it's true) and various other events that have taken place not so long ago.

Aah, I need to vent off some steam, release some stress, experience some nirvana, and stop thinking so much. But unfortunately, that's just not possible, now is it?

www.danish989.deviantart.com ~ My DeviantArt Page - pay a visit, leave some comments, would be much appreciated.

All the men in the world: We give up, God, seriously.

The fun thing about life is, so many options.

So many things to love. But let's talk about all the things to hate, right, keep up with the traditions of my blog.

So, the greeks say, Women were created as a punishment for men. And I couldn't agree more, right?

But I would like to blame God. I mean seriously, out of all the bones to be taken from the average male body, he chose a rib. A rib, probably the most crooked bone in the human body. Why couldn't he just take out the Humerus from an arm or something? Would save humanity and mankind so much trouble in the future. Civilization would probably be perfect then. What do you expect to make from bad dough? Bad bread. Crooked bone, crooked species. Makes sense, doesn't it, intellectually advanced men?

And then came the snake, and the God forsaken (no pun intended) apple. I mean, for Christ's sake, Women - Don't you see? Eve made the same mistake. Listen to men, for the love of God. Screw the fucking metaphorical snake, we beg and plead. But it's true what they say, people can't really change. Adams haven't, and Eves won't ever either.

Aah, Adam, when will you learn? Don't listen to Eve, she just wants you both kicked out of Eden.

After they were knocked out of Eden, I bet Eve just blamed everything on Adam.

"So what if I suggested the apple? Would you jump in a lake, if I suggested that too?"

"Oh, but Eve, I love you so, and will do anything for you."

"Oh, please, Adam, let's just get started with creating a civilization, can we? Keep that Shakespeare shit to yourself."

And then the chain started, and here we are, you and I.

Some smartass female came up with "all men are dogs."

She was right though, Dogs are in fact very loyal. Felines, on the other hand ...

I had a friend that owned a cat. The damn thing would bite his fingers in the middle of the night to wake him, just because she was hungry. Seriously, all men in a commited relationship right now - does that sound familiar or what?

Chris Rock addressed the men of the world when he said :

If you haven't contemplated murder, you ain't ever been in love. If you haven't seriously thought about killing a mutha****a or two, you ain't been in love.

If you haven't ever had a can of poison in your hand, and looked at it for 45mins straight, you ain't been in love. If you haven't bought a shovel and a bag and a rug to roll their fat ass up in, you ain't been in love. If you haven't practiced your alibi infront of the mirror, you ain't been in love.

And the only thing stopping you from killing this mutha****a - is an episode of CSI.

Fellas, when you wake up in the morning, you should look yourself in the mirror and say, "Fuck you. Fuck your hopes, fuck your dreams, fuck your plans … fuck everything you thought this life was going to bring to you. Now let's go out there and try to make this bitch happy."

Oh the abortion issue, it's a woman's issue. When a woman get pregnant, she don't want to hear shit from the man. Fuck you, motherfuck you, I don't need you. Unless she decides to have the baby and she's like, "Where my check?"

Am I united when I say, in part of all the men in the world: We give up, God, seriously. You wanted to torture us, we've been tortured.

Newton fucking figured out gravity, but how many females did he understand, have you ever wondered?

Einstein knew e=mc2 is equation of light in a vacuum. But what goes on in the head of a female? Is there a Darth Vader in there, or what? Sure seems like it.

Einstein figured out that energy and mass are interchangeable. That, energy equals the amount of mass multiplied by the speed of light squared. E=mc2, motherfucker. But seriously, what goes on in the head of a female? It's probably like a vacuum in there too.

Either that, or Darth Vader has successfully created another army and we just don't know it yet.

Oh please, Dear God, let the force be with us.

And before I get flamed by females saying men aren't trustworthy and this and that shit, What do you frigging expect, ladies? We're bound to get wiser after Eve screwed us over, right? Go fool another Homosapian, this one has learned.

Depression.

So we meet again, depression, my dear friend.

"I walked a mile with happiness
She chattered all the way
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say
I walked again with sorrow
And not a word spoke she
But oh, what I had learned
When sorrow walked with me"

I've learned more from ten days of agony that I ever would've from ten years of content.

~l|~

I've deactivated my facebook account. Somehow that made me feel a tad bit better.
I've decided not to sign on at msn as much as I used to. Everyday, that is. Is that possible? Let's find out.

I can't not check my email. Or I would've done that too.

I really didn't think it would come to this again. Really. I thought depression was left far behind when I decided to be happy no matter what. But I guess that's just not possible.

This post probably belongs someplace no one can read it, rather than on my blog where there's been so much commotion lately. Surprisingly (?)

Aah, if only I didn't have to wake up in the morning. What I would give to be able to just lay in bed and not crawl out until I absolutely need to.

What I would give to climb inside a cave and stay away from 'society' for as long as I can.

What I would give for a bottle of Dom Perignon and a 'custom-made cigarette.'

What I would give to be able to forget.

If ten days of agony will make me stronger, I want to be weak.

~l|~

"Since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved."
Nicollo Machiavelli

"Perhaps one day this too will be pleasant to remember."
- Virgil

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life. It goes on."
- Robert Frost

It goes on. Can I argue about whether that is good or bad?

Yes.

But I'm not going to ...

Shit-Crazy.

Somehow talking to my friend Wijdan always makes me feel like writing. Maybe it's because we always have these intellectual conversations - very similar to the kind I have with Sarmad - and they always end up making me want to write about something.

Or just pasting my chats, with both those guys mentioned up there, right here for the world to read and witness sheer brilliance.

Wijdan and Sarmad - They're so similar, it's crazy. Both Tauruses.

If you put Sarmad, Wijdan and me in a room, you'll get 5 people in a room.

Tauruses - 1.5 person.
Geminis - 2 people.

Close, yes, but oh so different still.

In other news, Remember that girl Rida I told everyone about? Who I met very long ago on the internet, but then we stopped talking, and out of nowhere she suddenly finds my blog and leaves a comment. Then we talk, and find out we've actually met before on msn through a mutual friend in Bahrain, ages ago.

Well, guess what? I went to Rida's blog a while ago, and turns out she also knows Wijdan. And funny story - Both Rida and Wijdan claim I inspired them to take up blogging. Sarmad too, actually.

Big whoop, and no sarcasm intended!

So anyway, while talking to Wijdan I came up with this idea ~ that we should both pick a single topic to write about, and then post it at the same time, linking to each other posts. So see that happening in the near future.

And that idea I mentioned above is so similar to my idea, that me and Sarmad start reading the same book together, and then discuss it later on, and probably even write a separate review, it's scary.

Life is crazy, is it not? At least mine is. Very, crazy. I love it.

It's almost sad, but breaking off a relationship is meant to make us sad. Someone wise said, emotions aren't meant to be understood. Dangerous is the man who has justified his feelings. I consider myself dangerous in that light.

I've still been leading a roller coaster of a life. I'm depressed one minute, very fucking happy for no fucking reason the next. Seriously considering seeing a counselor. Note: I said considering, but I don't really feel like it or want to go through with it. In fact, I don't think I am going to, really. I probably should, but I won't.

It's 3.45 AM. I have class at 12.20 PM. That's 9 hours, yes, but I need to wake up at 9.30. That's around 6. That is depressing me to no end right now, but I still refuse to go to sleep for some reason. No, not until I'm completely exhausted to lift a finger to type. That's just me; shit crazy. Ooh, I have a name for the post.

I am happy with the amount I've managed to squeeze out of my life, for a random blog post. Will come up with something else, really soon, and hopefully will not procrastinate in writing it too.

Take care, world. Thanks for all the love and involuntary respect. <3

Guilt.

What exactly is guilt and why does it exist?

Was it supposed to act as classical conditioning? To feed us with the schema, that what we just went through before experiencing the immense (or not) guilt, is bad, and should not be done in the future?

Because if that's the whole idea of guilt, than I hate to say it, but that system has most definitely failed, like most systems. But the sad thing is, that system wasn't man made.

And if that's not the idea of guilt, which I would really really like to believe with immense faith, than I'll just consider myself unknowing to the ways in which all these feelings have been programmed into us. That's the million dollar question, isn't it? Even if everyone's gradually but surely ceasing to ask it. Just like, why do we exist? Only more elaborate. Why do we feel guilty?

Because let's face it. Guilt isn't stopping us from doing anything, except feeling guilty in the future itself. A serial killer might feel guilt for the first couple of victims, but then it just becomes the norm, doesn't it? Where's the guilt then? Guilt acts as an entity that just clears itself out. Like a virus that just feeds on itself until it ceases to exist.

At least that's my understanding of it, till this point. What has guilt ever stopped us from doing, other than feeling guilty in the future? Anyone?

I had told myself
this was never to be done again
but as fate had decided
here I find myself today

I had thought this wouldn't happen
and it wouldn't come to this again
but our thoughts although our own
their ends we just can't say

Why does it always lead to this, I might ask
but only to find the same answer again
I didn't think it would matter that much
since everyone's so busy in their own guilty way.

- Danish Arif.

The fire that won't burn

Burnt the last piece of paper-memory up in smoke
but even the ashes smelt like her ..

crushed up all those pieces in my hand
letting the ink drip down the drain
but even the fire wouldn't help me burn ..

tore up the pieces in my hand
made sure they caught fire
killed every last letter with flames
with the coldest fire ever ..

but why won't the memories burn,
why won't the ink, now darker than ever, remove themselves from my hand,
why won't the words, engraved in the back of my head, disappear with the smoke?

Yet another point in life, where I ask myself why
but the fault must be my own,
all of my own ...