wake up wake wake up

the good old days

You know how every now and then i crib about how badly i used to get wasted in the old days? and how I don't anymore? I think I'm wrong about that. Last night was epic. I think it was epic because I don't remember a lot of it. I remember You Give Love a Bad Name, the jaeger and the vodka but not much else. Also Final Countdown. That I remember. No recollection of coming back home either but I woke up in my own bed and there was a large empty bowl of chocolate mousse cake on my table. Which reminds me, one of the benefits of going to the same place for over ten years for your coffee and pizza is that you can go there after closing time and guilt trip the waiters into turning the ovens on again and get pizzas in the middle of the night. I could have really done with a chocolate frappe also but I figured asking them to turn on the blenders also would just be overkill.

Got conned by a very drunk dealer last night. Shame on me.

I'm on some really crazy high on fire trip. NP: High on Fire - Blood from Zion

bruised, bitten and torn

It's hot in the village. Like crazy burning hot. I'm sitting in an air conditioned room with my feet crossed and folded and dreaming of ice cold beer and hoping for rain. It seems it rained in parts of the village yesterday. I think it's pinko commie propaganda and all a lie. It's crazy hot.

The weekend just past found me happier than I've been in a long long time. Now that it's gone I'm annoyed and grumpy and would probably do well to hang a stay away sign around my neck.

Sachin scored a double century in a one day game yesterday. Something I thought was never going to happen with an India. It was a truly spectacular innings and I didn't miss a single ball that was bowled to him. Dhoni batted like his old self yesterday and it's nice to see him just come out and slaughter the bowlers. I thought we were done with that. Overall, it really was a spectacular batting display.

I'm annoyed and tired and sweaty and grimy now. Want to go home, want coffee, want a smoke and some lime juice. I want and want and want. I'd be surprised by my greed if I wasn't so used to it.

Devil went down to Jamaica

bones

This women looks so damn familiar just looking at her now gives me a headache. I'll be fucked if I can remember who but.

galas and the gloomy sunday

It's hot out. Luckily, no plans to venture out till 6 at least. Then another evening spent doing nothing or the same thing depending on the mood I'm in. It's hot out. The new Rotting Christ album sounds a bit mechanical and weird. It's great after one listen and some truly awesome solos and a fantastic reworking of Diamanda Galas's Orders from the Dead.

I spent most of last night watching Galas's videos on youtube. I don't know why. She depresses me more than Gira and Jarboe put together. Her version of O Death is truly haunting while Orders from the Dead is probably the single most depressing song ever written. Worse than Failure. This her doing Gloomy Sunday.

liz lemon life lesson

I watch as a thick fat globule of phlegm makes it's way out of his mouth. It arcs perfectly and bounces a couple of times off the road. I've never seen spit bounce off anything before. Something new everyday. I made some special chocolates. They're a little more special than I anticipated. It comes and goes and comes and goes and people will say I have no shame. Such is life. Hard, bitter, the mistakes I make are mine to swallow. I revel in it.

Today was another strange and mostly ridiculous day. I ate some really spicy food and now my lips are burning. Terrible. So anyway, this is not the same. This is boring. I find myself hoping for the world to end. Occasionally.

I feel like writing some poetry. I'll hold my breath and wait for the feeling to pass. I think I deserve thanks. Season 4 of 30 Rock and Tracy Morgan has some great lines. I used to have a crush on liz lemon. I will not lie and I think I'd still hit it.

I'm feeling a bit hungry. Little bit. I'll hold my breath and wait for the feeling to pass. I think I'll watch some television and hope for sleep. Later.

the kings of speed are off the road

So I'm back to working at my own place. After almost 6 years I think. It's mostly good. I say mostly because yesterday with no warning at all after 6 months of complete absence the acid came back. I think it's the work but what am I going to do? Give up coffee and eat curd rice every night?

my love

http://www.links2love.com/poem_generator.htm


Your skin glows like the pineapple, blossoms sexy as the jasmine in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your bongo voice and leaps like a cat at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great crow wing.
I am comforted by your hat that I carry into the twilight of chairbeams and hold next to my big toe.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of whiskey.
As my ears falls from my shirt, it reminds me of your girl.
In the quiet, I listen for the last screech of the day.
My heated wrist leaps to my boxers. I wait in the moonlight for your secret bird so that we may fly as one, wrist to wrist, in search of the magnificient blue and mystical bus of love.

Yes, I'm utterly jobless and very very bored.

2009 and the movies

I saw loads of movies this year. Maybe more than at any other time in my life. These are my ten favourites from last year in no particular order.

Inglourious Basterds



Tarantino's best yet I think. This movie shows the director in top form. While before the set pieces in his movies were either over the top action sequences or clever dialogue loaded with pop culture, here it's pacing, tension, a strong story and some absolutely terrific performances, chief among them being Col. Hanz Landa a cheerfully sadistic German officer.

Bronson



Nicolas Winding Refn first came to my attention with his uber grim Pusher trilogy and Bronson is his new movie based on the life of one Michael Peterson who is Britains most violent prisoner played by Tom Hardy in breathtaking style. The movie's alright on its own but with hardy's absolutely stunning performance it becomes a bit special. On par with The Wrestler in terms of one absolutely crushing central performance making the movie a lot better than what it is.


Fantastic Mr. Fox



Wes Anderson's take on a Roald Dahl story about a chicken thief fox who's given up on the thievery only to go back to it for one last hurrah. His targets are the three most dangerous farmers in the world and his exit from a life of thievery is a grand triple header. Excellent cast and the whole stop motion thing works really well. Willem Dafoe as Rat is a show stealer and the movie on the whole is actually quite fantastic.

The Limits of Control



Jim Jarmusch's new one with the ice cream seller from Ghost Dog, and a whole bunch of cameos. I'm still not sure if this movie is specifically about anything. It's basically about a man who may or not be involved in diamond smuggling, the people he meets and his last job which is to kill a man. It's vague and never really explains anything but man, it's a trip from start to finish. The soundtrack by Boris helps too.

Thirst



Park Chan Wook's take on the vampire tale about a Catholic priest who turns into a vampire. His lust for human blood increases as does his desire for sex and everything goes horribly wrong soon enough. Not as steeped in melodrama as Lady Vengeance I guess but a fine tuned movie with some great performances and terrific atmosphere.

The White Ribbon



Michael Haneke's new movie about a little German village and the goings on there just prior to World War I. Bad things start happening in the village as narrated to us by the school teacher who himself is an old man now. Children are dying, people are getting hurt and no one's quite sure what to make of it. Haneke gives us no explanation or rationalisation for any of the happenings and everything is left unresolved with the breaking out of World War I. This movie just held me spellbound.

The Hurt Locker



I don't like war movies. never have and probably never will. The Hurt Locker is an exception to the rule probably because it's about people fighting a horrible pointless war and what makes them tick. Another solid central performance from Jeremy Renner as the reckless bomb disposal sergeant and some really tense scenes made this a really impressive movie.


Julia



Another fantastic performance, this time from Tilda Swinton as Julia, an alcoholic middle aged no hoper who decides to take up her neighbour's offer to kidnap her son away from an evil grandfather. The movie's pretty good but Swinton is spectacular.

Bad Lieutenant



I think Cage and Herzog should make a few more movies together. I thought this was going to be a remake of the grim and nasty original Bad Lieutenant with Harvey Kietel but its not. This is Herzog's own take on the film about a corrupt cocaine snorting cop in post Katrina New Orleans. Cage is fantastic as the corrupt cop investigating the murder of an entire family. Eva Mendes is his hooker girlfriend and has never looked as hot. She can also act surprisingly enough but really this is a Herzog/Cage show and it rules.

Martyrs



IMDB lists this as 2008 but fuck it, this has to be the most intense and downright disturbing horror movie in a long long time. Enough said.

I woke up this morning to a steady stream of phone calls and guilt tripping. Sometimes, people just won't let you be.

happy birthday bugger

red eyed and thirsty

So here we are again. There's an eclipse afoot and I'm pretty sure some virgins somewhere are being sacrificed. I've been told not to go out and not eat anything. Even got a phone call to make sure I was indoors. I'm hungry and restless and idle and that old cliché about idleness is very true. Bored and lonely, red eyed and thirsty. Also hungry and restless. Still.

I made a new compilation for the car. Yes, I was that bored. I thought last night that I would be productive today. Clean my room, catch up on some stuff etc and right now I have no mood for anything. I hooked up my speakers and Alkaline are doing their weird dub thing and it's all really a mood thing. I think too much when I'm like this.

I think I should sleep. Fantastic Mr. Fox really was quite fantastic. I hope it comes to the theaters here. In the Woods doing White Rabbit. What a fucked up crazy band. I need some In the Woods CDs. Later.

We are Gods dreams.

I think I need exercise. This laziness is getting tiresome. Jet City Woman after what seems like ages. Crows outside. Also a huge bat that terrorizes the night sky just outside my window. Traffic's back on the street. Is the worst over? I hope so.

A man walks into a bar and says “gimme a baccardi and coke”
The back of beyond repair welcomes the broken and the broke

mutual respect and peace

and she walked

Do you know women who become more and more attractive as they grow older? I do. This post is about one of them. It's about me also. Maybe. Mostly about her though.

12:40pm Lunch break. Everyone's out. Inmates trying to make the most of the 35 minutes on offer before going back to the torture chambers. There's chaos. Noise; both human and machine. The jocks are heading to the basket ball court. The smokers are heading for the road. The nerds are heading to the library. Father's looking, hands on hips, magnifying glass firmly entrenched in his pocket. And then she starts to walk.

Not a blade of grass on the back lawns. Not the leaves on the Ashoka trees. Not the boys playing basketball. Hell, not even the ball. Nothing moved when she walked. When she started from the back and walked all the way out of college. It was like the world stopped to watch her walk. 12:40 pm, every single afternoon. Lunch break was forgotten. Time moved on, we stood still and she walked.

Mr. Kennedy started talking about controlling impure thoughts in Tuesday morning value education classes. I started visiting the graveyard. She still walked out everyday and we all still watched.

Yes. Me too. I watched her walking out. I had a vantage point. Unfortunately I didn't have motivation. My maroon tinted vision just made everything seem pointless and it didn't help that both her brothers were my corex buddies.

Then one day at about 12:45pm maybe, she crossed the road. Came right up to where we were sitting. Regarded us with an icy fucking stare as she lit her navy cut.

“You're dropping me home. Let's go.”

Everything went sort of dark when she told me I was dropping her home. Everything disintegrated into sheer panic when she told me to come in. I fainted when I finally realised she'd been calling me by name.

I remember afternoons spent locked in a tiny room listening to her dreams, to her plans and wondering why I had none. Mornings spent walking through the graveyard talking about death and being morbid. Looking at each other through clouds of grey smoke from morning to dusk and breathing in that sickly sweet stench as if it would make us immortal and then doing the same thing every day for the next six months. She knew it was only a matter of time before everything ended. She knew this entire scene came with an expiry date and sure enough, everything ended. One whole scene. Like 2012 with fewer survivors. It had to.

We stopped our morning walks in the graveyard once the last body was buried, we slowly stopped everything. We said goodbye. I didn't see her for almost a year after that. When I finally saw her again it was like always. She'd talk, I'd nod along, she'd talk some more I'd nod some more and then she'd steal all my cigarettes and send me out for more.

She was a survivor. Still is. All of the skullfucks that life threw her way didn't change her. She walked through it all and thrived quite literally in the face of adversity.

When she left for foreign climes I thought I was finally saying goodbye. Life moved and took me places. I forgot mostly. Then, two years ago I saw her again. Watched for a while. Then watched some more. It took me a while to work up the courage to go say hi. What if she'd forgotten. What is she'd forgotten and would stare at me with that same icy cold look that used to freeze my blood when I was seventeen? Were those 2 little girls her children? I did say hi finally, eventually.

She was the same mostly. When the past was the present she was the only one who knew how shitty it was but now it's all rose tinted glasses and a longing for the good old days which were anything but good. She still talks a lot. Like non fucking stop. She still has her hopes and dreams. She still continues to thrive. In spite of the skullfucks and a life that sees her walking through minefields too often for comfort. Maybe because of it.

The world still stops when she walks. The world still looks. I should be resentful but I'm too busy looking. She thrives in the face of adversity. It doesn't matter how she does it. She thrives and I'm glad she's around.

We'd survived a scene that died. Maybe our corner of ganja park was special, maybe she still had some functioning brain cells, maybe it was something else entirely but I digress. This is still about her and she thrived. She lived, loved, lost and did everything beautiful people do I guess. It was like she took every curve ball life threw at her and somehow came out fitter, better, faster even if not always a winner.

She saved my life once upon a time and is still charging me for it. I wouldn't have it any other way.

2009

2009 in review. What might be a rambling, pointless and overlong review, much like that Deathspell Omega one somewhere here and you might wish I'd never put it up but what the hell, why not?

Things started well. Mostly. The 1st of the year started according to plan. Ihsahn ends A Grave Inversed with the closing riff on 21st Century Schizoid Man. I might be hearing things that aren't necessarily there. Yes, the years big shift was in finally getting out of jail. Finally saying fuck you, I don't need your job, a job or any job. Fucking awesome. I think I'd been building up to this for a while now with my serial jumping but I really enjoyed the final resignation. A bit more than when I quit Barclays.

This year was also great for trying new things and the opportunity. Thank you 2009. Nice of you.

I had an absolutely terrific holiday for 2 days in Suratkal. But it's Suratkal and an awesome holiday there is pretty much the default setting. That first morning was fucking epic. Thank you Kau. This was actually the only holiday I had. All other plans met with disaster and personal tragedy.

I finally met an old friend for the first time and lost all sense of proportion. It's been a pretty wild ride so far. Exhilarating even if a bit strange.

I lost my grandparents. It's not something I'm totally at peace about. Zen has not happened. It happened way too quickly. Like, what was the hurry? I'm a bit angry but mostly just sad. In other news I'm off to Mangalore next weekend for my third 13th day ceremony in the last 5 months. Terrible.

I heard a lot of music this year. More different shit than ever before. I didn't read much though, Hardly. I did read Toll the Hounds and Dust of Dreams in the same year. I'll read it this year too when it finally gets here and I get my own copy. Don't remember reading anything else with that much excitement. Saw some really fantastic movies but mostly I think 2009 was all about the music.

Oh, by the way I almost forgot. I turned 30 this year. I had no epiphany, no morning after sickness or revelation. I was just another day older.

I had a mostly sober year. Sober as in calm and peaceful at least when it came to hanging out with the boys. Wednesday nights meant going to Tavern a lot and we started a mid week pit stop. Weekends were spent mostly getting hammered but with very little driving around and behaving badly. It was pretty good.

My 2009 sounds a bit drab. I hit a guy. He was asking for it and he provoked me but I probably shouldn't have. Still, I felt pretty good once my heart went back to its normal rate.

Okay, After is an altogether different beast compared to the first two albums. There are elements but the Spiral Architect rhtyhm section seems to have more freedom here. Also the saxophonist adds a very avante garde feel to the sound. This is quite a dense piece of work from Ihsahn. It doesn't have the immediate catchy feel of Angl but I've been listening to it for a while now and it's mostly awesome. I think as good as Angl, probably better but also a bit different. This fellow's brilliant but I'm also totally digressing.

This year I would like to make a few changes. I don't know what exactly but I'll write about it here once I know. I'm quitting cigarettes as of tomorrow morning. I think it's big deal even if I've quit 4 times in 2009. I'm also going to take up swimming and yoga.

Coming back to 2009, it was a strange year. It was filled with chance and coincidences and weird skullfuck moments that more often than not ended with more skullfucking. I had some absolutely terrific highs and also some totally horrendous lows. I put my plans in place very nicely and everything turned out pretty fucking well but then I realised it wasn't really enough. I wanted different things and freedom only means something if you know what to do with it. Some of it worked, some flopped but I'm going to try it all. Like I said at the start, awesome.

Okay, it's back to being really cold. I'm going to go back downstairs. I hope I haven't forgotten some epochal moment. I don't think so. I also don't think I can give the past year any sort of rating. Too much happened. Good things and bad things that were not comparable to each other in any way. A year pretty much filled with some strange confusion. Like it wasn't sure which direction it wanted to go in. I managed as best I could although I did have a few moments of weakness.

If I had a chance to do it all over again I'd do the same shit all over again. I think that's a fair year.

The last time I heard her giggle. At me. With me. I didn't care. It felt good and I was happy to see her and talk to her and be there.

dead years and dead smiles

The new year is fast approaching and I'm bored for way too much of the time and sad and restless and empty for the rest of the time. Without getting overly dramatic I think the last 6 months of 2009 have been more than a little crazy and I don't remember the first 6.

laughter lines run deeper than skin and the world's just something that the cat dragged in

I've been listening to a fair bit of anarcho punk lately. Not sure yet what this genre entails in terms of music but they have some severely strong political views. Anyway, what is the musical commonality between Aus Rotten, CRASS and Chumbawamba? I'll be fucked if I know but all three are this strange genre called anarcho punk. They hate fascists, rascists and all bad people and seem like nice liberal people. I don't have a problem with NSBM and I don't have a problem with anarcho punk. I like them both but I'm guessing both camps hate each other.

The biggest surprise though was going to these sites and finding out that Chumbawamba is considered punk. WTF! How? This is the same band that made Tub Thumping, Laughter in the Time of War and acapella covers of The Clash. Punk? I didn't think so. Very cool band though and here's them doing an acoustic version of Homophobia



CRASS on the other hand sound like nothing I've ever heard before. At least their early stuff seemed like punk and they slowly moved away to do their own uniquely British sound. I fell in love with this band a while back and this was where it all started pretty much. At least with me listening to punk.



Aus Rotten are angry motherfuckers. And probably vegans and straight edge and everything and also American and hardcore but anarchists and I guess why they're labelled anarcho punk along with everything else ...And Now Back To Our Regular Programming sounds fucking angry and comes with the most scary tobacco ad I've heard.



So anyway, time pass post. and I'll leave you dear diary with the longest album name ever.

did someone say blue?

a lost case, never found

I used to talk a lot
then stayed silent for too long
I used to bite off more than I could chew
then stopped biting for a time
I washed my best friend's blood
Off my hands and face
Then spoke about it to no one no one no one

I used to play and sing and dance
then stopped it for nothing at all
I used to live in fits and starts
and then stopped to drift
No way was I putting my foot in it
a big ugly festering pool of slime
Instead I washed in her sins and felt clean

I held too many secrets for far too long
Then tried to stop but couldn't
Holding it in is easy when you have practice
But when my brain runs in slow motion
and my tongue starts to wander
I find myself opening the lock on the door
More and more often.