.She cries all night.

Fool's hole.

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 02:47:40 +0530

I made a mistake. Once. Long back. (well not so long back actually)

And it seems that I liked it soooooooooooooooooo damn much, that I counted on doing the same thing again.

And again.

And ~~friggin'~~ again.

Hmm, maybe after this time too. I will do it all over again too. It's just so damn fun. -sic-.

I love myself. :D The celebrated dumb focked as*h*le.

One of the things I have ever done properly is gone and shoved that thing called life up my. And I continue to do so.

The other things I can properly do are writing emails and fold a sheet of paper in 1/8th its size.

Later.

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a.lone.

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 20:19:37 +0530

The last thing I remembered was the crimson gold sky background of the window. As I lay supine on the bed and my eyelids grow heavier. Heavier then my will to stay awake. Heavier than Iron maiden in my ears. Heavier than everything else in this world. And the sky faded faster than the twilight.

I don’t like to dream. Dreams always turn to nightmares. I don’t like nightmares. Why are they always chasing me. I didn’t do it. Just leave me alone. I am just too tired.

My eyelids have lost their weight now. I open my eyes to a night sky. There are no stars. The window grill still the same. Unchanging. Guarding the sky. Or maybe just trying to hold my thoughts within.

The room is dark. I try to see as far as I can. Cannot see far. There isn’t any light anywhere. Just an inky darkness painting the house. I don’t care about blinking anymore. The world remains unchanged. I shut my eyes for good.

There isn’t a sound. Everything is so dead. So still. Where did everyone go. Did they finally leave me alone.

The ceiling fan continues it’s monotonous whirring which makes it so hard to be heard. It’s undeniable existence is least appreciated. Sometimes I wish I was a ceiling fan. I turn over and lie face first on the pillow. Its damp. Mostly with perspiration. Reminds me of my nightmare. Of all my nightmares.

And I feel cold. And I feel lonely. For a moment. For several moments afterwards, I lay there unmoving, wishing I had someone warm to hold. To hold and never let go.

Giving up on my wishes again, I try to leave the bed. My limbs rebel. They seem to have lost faith in me as their master. In pieces has a new meaning for me. And I smile. For once I am happy that I am alone.

Later.

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iHate.

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 00:23:02 +0530

iHate.

When you feel a surge of heat in your spine. A feeling of exhilaration. A malicious intent in your veins. A supreme desire to destroy.

No, not everyone can hate like iHate. You should have a short circuited brain. You should have loved someone like there is no tomorrow. You should have trusted someone more than your own self. And you should have been betrayed.

iHate is not a mundane act of hating or being the world hater. Its special. Its rare. Its unique. Its a drug.

Yes, iHate. And Ihate.

Later.

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When all I want is.

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 02:26:20 +0530

I want to go hungry for a week.
I want to cheat at poker.
I want to sleep.
I want to dream.
I want to scream.
I want to live it up.
I want to slip.
I want to fall.
I want to get a scar.
I want a life. Another life.
I want to remember you.
I want to love.
I want to spit at the moon.
I want to die young.
I want to win. Once.
I want to swim.
I want to look up.
I want to count stars whole night long.
I want to sing hoarse.
I want to ride at 150 kmph
I want to play a guitar.
I want to get tattooed.
I want to breathe.
I want to be rich.
I want to lose my fears.
I want to be underweight.
I want to be drunk.
I want to be a scandalous rockstar.
I want to be a reason.
I want to be powerful.
I want to stay awake every night.
I want to talk.
I want to be stronger.
I want to regret.
I want to run on water.
I want to leap out of the window.
I want to burn some roses.
I want to be happy.
I want to be alone. Sometimes with me. Sometimes with you.
I want to be independent.
I want to get lost in a big city.
I want to get addicted to you.
I want to snipe.
I want to be born on the 1st of January.
I want to go home.
I want to own google.com
I want to say sorry.
I want to travel in the freight of an aircraft.
I want to drive a locomotive.
I want to crash a Skoda.
I want to go to Hokkaido.
I want to be digitized.
I want to be ME.
I want to kick you.
I want to cook food. Good food.
I want to be sick every month.
I want to be taller.
I want to be forgotten.
I want to forget, that I ever wanted something.

Later.

PS:When you walk on and on..without destination, you tend to run into yourself again. And again.

The wants of man

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Did you ask something?

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 02:21:01 +0530

The bend

Is denying the truth same as lying? Do the honest always tell the truth? Is it wrong to miss people you hate? Is it a mistake to believe you can make mistakes? Does it require a heart to love? Is living the surest path to achieve death? Do you think the loving caring warm sun would not burn you down to ashes if you got too close to it? Does fear give men wings? Is food required to live? Don’t you think the will to live is all you need to stay alive? Is it wrong to be wrong all the time? Is it right to be right in all cases? Is it true that you are cold hearted murderous stupid little nincompoop ?

Questions. Questions. Questions.

Later.

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O angel, pardon me.

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 03:13:55 +0530

My angel

O angel, pardon me. For I will remember you in the comfortable rains when I get wet. I will think of you in the partings before the early morning light comes. I will remember you when you are almost there, when you almost smile. Your secret smile.

O angel, pardon me. For I shall forever dread losing the feeling. The memory of the short escapades. The open secret. And the untold truth. Perhaps the hidden fact too.

O angel, pardon me. For I shall wait for the day when you take my hand and take flight. I shall wait for the day you begin to breathe. Until then just live.

Later.

Ps: Musings of a nut.

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Hypocrite, the

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 17:19:22 +0530

Insanity. Lapse of reason. Psychotic behaviour. In dire need of therapy. Tendency to go overboard with things.

Now, when you see these tendencies in someone the first

Light in the darkness

thing that should come to your mind, is to let the person be alone. Followed by some other things. Brand the person a social threat. Show some pity maybe. Spread rumours. Bitch about. Never mind.

Yes, I know. Some things that happen in this world don’t make sense. Most of the things that are said in this world are lies. And almost all of the feelings in this world are unreasonable.

Yet, things keep on happening. People keep saying stuff. And no one ever stops feeling. I don’t know about how open are you folks about owning up. I however don’t have any restrictions in calling myself a hypocrite.

Hypocrite, the.

Later

PS:
Dreams from a daffodil bed,
Sweet smell of the wet earth,
Scorching beauty of a beastly deity,
Blue blood of royalty,
Care of holy Mother,
Fear of salvation, of its pain.

Gather them and maybe then you can heal me. On second thought, forget it.

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Sometimes dreams arent sweet.

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 19:06:50 +0530

When my eyes opened I was already on the highway. It was cloudy, almost about to rain. I was riding the bike, it seemed. Yes, I was riding my bike. Going somewhere, still unaware of where to. But I kept riding. Soon enough I reached at the destination. Didn’t seem like much of a place. It did look oddly familiar though. Those who have lived in the city might have recognized the place as being similar to the parking space in front of Satyanagar market, only cleaner and modern looking.

Any ways, I parked the bike there and started to take off my helmet and sunglasses. However someone seemed to arrive from behind. I did not have a very good feeling about it. I did not take off my helmet just then. I moved ahead away from the parking. I checked out the person in the rear view mirror of a car. The person seemed very familiar. She removed her helmet as I looked back just for a second to confirm if it was whom I thought it was to be. I gasped and looked ahead again. I quickened my pace and soon enough I entered the building, there I removed my helmet and my two pairs of sunglasses. Well, I realized then that it was a dream.. No one wears two pairs of sunglasses on a cloudy day..

Some time later, I don’t know how much time exactly I came out of the building and walked to my bike. This time feeling much more confident since I had discovered it was a dream. She was still standing near her vehicle. But now she was not alone. A number of friends surrounded her. About 4 or 5. She was busy talking to them, I decided to make a swift exit. But just as I approached from behind a car, she raised a hand and waved. I stopped dead in my tracks. I raised a weak hand and reciprocated with a feeble wave of the hand. I was never good with my His and Byes. Someone always said that to me. Couldn’t really remember who.

Suddenly there was an odd sensation. The next moment a person coming from behind walk right though me towards the merry group waving to her. I was slightly taken aback, never the less was relieved to know I wasn't really there for her. Looking at her in the noisy group now, talking and laughing, I was happy. For some reason I felt inwardly content. As I reached my bike, instead of leaving, I lay down on it flat out and looked at the sky. It was cloudy, the backdrop was that of a grand cathedral, I had seen somewhere else. A few drops of rain fell on my face. But the sky was still clear. The laughter and talking grew in the background.

However, I couldn’t help the feeling. The cathedral was just an image, so was the sky. The sky and the cathedral began to fall in pieces revealing dark nothingness beyond. The rain had become stronger. The laughter died out. The world around me faded from view. In a flash, the realization dawned upon me.

Everything was fake.

Later.

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No strings attached.

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 03:54:29 +0530

In the crowd, there was a small boy. He seemed lost. But he wasn't crying. Maybe he wasn't lost. Not yet. But his eyes were searching for something. Maybe he had lost something instead.

No one seemed to notice the boy. He moved out of the midst. He stumbled on the leg of an empty bench. He stood up again, and with some difficulty managed to climb on top. He sat there for some time, looking at the people passing him by. Maybe searching for a familiar face, or a voice.

Several minutes passed. The boy was still on the bench, looking at people. Maybe he was looking for some kindness. Some sort of recognition, but people, as usual were too busy. Everyone just, moved on. Suddenly the boy jumped off the bench and moved towards a noisy cake shop. Perhaps he was hungry. He ran towards the shop now. Just then he turned his head backwards for a second. The next moment he was gone. Disappeared into an empty manhole.

Maybe someone familiar had called out to him. But we will never find that out I guess.

Later.

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Deathwish

nobody@vox.com(Makyubex) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 03:52:45 +0530

The sun was up. It must be a beautiful day outside. He wondered, maybe too aloud. A couple of onlookers were looking towards him. He quickly buried himself into the days newspaper he was holding. ‘ Tomorrow I will be on the front page’ so said to himself. This evoked a few more sniggers from the onlookers. Blushing a dirty shade of purple he crushed the paper and left the place.

Walking at a steady pace he arrived at the ticket counter of the subway station. There was a queue in progress. He joined behind an old woman carrying her weekly supplies. He saw the queue shortening. ‘Ah, my time is approaching’, so he thought. He bought the ticket to the nearest station. ‘Nothing is free these days, not even death’ he cursed.

He took the escalator to the bottom holding the ticket in his left hand and the newspaper in his right. An air of freedom surrounded him. There was still some time before the train and his freedom arrived. He sat down on one of the waiting chairs. Beside him was another happy looking person. He decided to make some conversation. ‘This might be my last chat’, so he thought and once again chuckled inside.

‘Hello sir’, said he, ‘going far?’

The other person answered, ‘Yes, yes of course. Far. Am off to see my family’

To this he replied, ‘Ah, good. Good journey then.’

The other person replied, ‘Hmm, yeah. Can I borrow your newspaper, if you are done with it.’

‘Of course.’

The train was almost at the station, he stood up. It was time. Time to leave this godforsaken world for a better place. He sighed deeply and moved towards the edge of the platform, stopping just half a feet short off the edge. He looked back at his companion, who was still deeply engrossed in the newspaper. He was faced with a moment of indecision now, through gritted teeth he cursed his fears. Finally as he prepared to take the final plunge, and lifted a foot, the train swished past. He was late. Damn. He turned tail and returned to his chair again. By this time his companion was done with the newspaper.

‘You didn’t leave on this one?’

‘No, well..err. I will take the next one I guess.’

‘So will I’ said his companion, the benign smile never leaving his face.

Four minutes passed. The next train was due. As he heard it entering the station from the east, he stood up again. His companion smiled at him once more. He was getting sick of this carefree smile.

‘Oh well, a few seconds more, and it will all be over.’

He moved to the edge once more. This time his determination firm. Suddenly, he felt someone tap his back, he turned to see his companion.

He handed him the newspaper back, ‘Thanks’ he said smiling, and in a smooth motion jumped over the edge.

And the train swiftly went past him. He was late. Again.

Later.

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