Tuesday, March 29, 2005

wishing and hoping

I rub my hands over the rough surface of my chest.
I finger the scars on my thigh.
I cling to my imperfections in the hope of salvation.
I hope. I wish. I do nothing else.

Monday, March 28, 2005

little girls and burnt arms

At the traffic lights around MG Road, its quite common to see little girls from the northern parts of the country begging. A rather large party of north indians migrated to the city a while back and when they found nothing else to feed themselves they quickly turned to begging. They may have been farmers in their villages but not anymore. Some still try to get by on the government emplyment scheme selling face masks, newspapers and things like that. Most have taken to the streets and beg for a living. Its a common sight to see most of the men missing an arm or a leg. This happened over a period of time and considering that begging is controlled completely by local goons it seemed like a calculated pattern of dismemberment. Now though, its the little girls. Two of them at two different traffic lights have burns on their arms. Both of them on their forearms and both of them on the left arm. Maybe the men with missing arms or legs weren't bringing in enough dough. Maybe I'm just being morbid and paranoid. Or maybe someone's out there burning the arms of little girls in the hope of making more money.

A third little girl with a burn on her arm will establish a pattern. The girls run away when I ask them the hows of the burns or get a confused look on their little faces and say they fell down.

I don't know what the point to this is, but begging in this city is organised and run by a few people. Again and again, it is the children, the innocents, with no one to stand up for them who pay. Right now, these children are paying with blood. I don't know how anyone can end this or even if there is anything that can help, but ideas would be welcome.

Sunday, March 27, 2005


613 songs on the playlist and I got Mad Season, Acid Bath, Alice In Chains and Lux Occulta in that order. Very nice. I have a feeling i’ll see the sun rise. Nice day. I was too lazy to do anything. Did nothing. Drank too much Iced Tea smoked too many cigarettes and kept hearing pop rock right through the day. They were all there. White Lion to Saigon Kick. I enjoyed it. I was even coming to greet Michael Learns To Rock with a smile on my face. The night promises to be interesting. Or very irritating. Depends on a few things.

I burst the blister that was on the tip of my finger. I bit into it. A small almost perfect circle appeared. The white liquid ran down my finger. It’s quite tasteless. It’s browning over now. Too small.

The clock in my car used to be late by an hour and a half. Now, all on its own, its fast by an hour.

The conversations I seem to be a part of seem like they should be in a movie. I feel like I’m living a movie when I have these bizarre coffee sessions that seem to go on forever.

The night was long, bizarre and anything but beautiful. Thankfully, Saturday was a lot better.


I’m trying to read Trainspotting. When Ewan McGregor jumps into the pot to retrieve his suppositories, its amusing. When Rents is wiping away shit from the retrieved goods, its not funny. It made me want to puke.

Last night I was all set to watch Jennifer Garner in Electra. I don’t know why so many looser superhero films are being made. Where’s that Batman Begins ? Anyway back to Electra, it promised to be terrible and then I realized I didn’t like Jennifer Garner. I knew the movie was going to be bad. Why the fuck did I get it ? Like shit, man! The CD didn’t play in the end. The audio didn’t work. I felt quite disgruntled. I watched Pi instead. Another weird little movie about this stupid mathematician. Still, the movie was good. The hero was an idiot. The soundtrack by Clint Mansell was awesome.

I also finished watching Kairo. Social commentary masquerading as horror. It has its moments. Again, it’s the soon becoming standard theme of loneliness in an urban setting. The Japanese are a lonely people.

np: Mynd Snare – Conditioned Human
Like holy shit man. This song rocks.


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Blood On My Fingers

3 in the morning. Making buttermilk. That was when I first noticed it. The blood on my hands. On my fingers. Yes. On my fingers. I don’t want it to go away. I don’t know how it got on there. Is it mine ? I don’t know. It’s just there. My fingers hurt in a strange sort of way. Maybe its just because I’m keeping them separate as I don’t want a smudging of the blood.

Blood on my fingers. I’m not bleeding.

Saturday, March 12, 2005

yeno ondu

You know India Coffee House on MG Road ? There’s a crisis brewing there. A huge gap in the supply chain. The manager it seems doesn’t care. His exact words ? “I don’t give a fuck. Drink your cup of coffee, smoke your cigarette and go away. Fuck off now.” A sad state of affairs. Here’s the gap. The guy who pours the coffee in the kitchen goes off on a bathroom break. There’s nobody to pour the coffee into the empty waiting cups. The waiters aren’t qualified, the manager doesn’t care. What can you do but wait till the pourer of coffee comes back ? Now, I hate bringing up problems that I myself do not have a solution for. Yes. A rare moment of truth. I say empower the waiters. Let them pour the coffee into the cups. Pour it. Like nobody’s business. But only when the designated pourer is on his bathroom break. Empower the waiters. But who will ? The Manager still doesn’t give a fuck.

Tate’s changed the lyrics on the version of someone else with the full band.
The curd is far too cold and now my teeth are numb.
I could drive my fist through this computer screen but why would I ?
I could set my arm on fire. Well, why the fuck not ?
Why ? I don’t know man. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

My brain is slowly but surely shutting down. I should go and sleep now. I love Promised Land. I think its my favourite Queensryche. What blasphemy. Real World. One awesome song. Like Silent Lucidity with balls.

I saw half of audition. This movie’s going to fuck with my head big time. For sure. Its fucking horrible. Then I saw half of Kairo and its fucking scary. There are these fucking shadows that are just spooky. And this fucker who comes at you walking in shadow. Like fucking scary man. I should get some funny shit. Like a bunch of pink panther movies or something.

Heroin Chic, My Dying Bride’s moment in the sun
Or a disaster that should have been aborted at the start ?
Whore, a crimson angel on wings of desire
Or a killing of the pure ?
Do you care ?

I’m giggling far too much. At nothing. Scary shit. Damn these shadows. A cover should be an interpretation. I agree. Sound of silence like nevermore do it. An interpretation ? I think so. I just ran out of currency on my phone. This is so fucked. I need post paid. Wonderful. There’s a serial on Sony called Jassi Jaisi Koi Nahin. An odd looking young woman proving herself to the world. A constant underdog tag meant millions of women around the country identified with Jassi. So what if she looked like a reject from a Punjabi movie about retards. Anyone can win in India. Yes. I believe that. Say it enough times and you’ll believe anything. Drawing down the moon. The tea party is a fucking great band. Edges of Twilight I like a lot. And that acoustic thing with the Moroccan shit. Wyrmboy knows what I’m talking about. Heheh sorry. I’ll go look for something to eat then read for a bit. Enough of this for now. The time is 2:34am. Sleepy and hungry. Both of them. Sleep. Eat. Sleep. Eat. Eat ? Sleep. Fuck off now and read. Children are dying. That sums up everything wrong about this world. Deadhouse Gates. The Chain Of Dogs. Again. G’night.

Friday, March 04, 2005

Blind Girls, Chess and Cancer

The blind girl plays chess. Her friends look on. She’s the most attractive in that box of six. College romances abound. The potential for a cat fight is ruined by the advent of more friends. The tension dissipates. The girl with the straight brown hair is the cause for the tension. IBM looks like he needs sleep. Tattoo girl’s boy friend walks like Salman Khan. A gentle courting is in place. First time for both. The pieces on the chess board lie scattered on the table. The blind girl re-arranges it. The blonde American sits with the blond Indian. A confusion of identity. Everybody’s smoking. Everybody’s smoking. A man sits and reads the news by himself. Another Tuesday morning. The girl with the light brown eyes is lighting match sticks. She’d rather be in class. The call centre boys are here at the end of their shift. They should be home sleeping. Things don’t always work like that. There’s a boy in a dirty brown shirt. Sitting by himself. Smoking a cigarette. Cancer will the downfall of my generation. The music is strangely inoffensive. A pleasant enough day so far. More white skin. Where did all these foreigners come from ? Why are they here ? I notice the blind girl’s opponents. How come every girl today has great hair ? Not complaining, but how come ? I light another cigarette. Cancer will be our downfall. The chain smoking generation. My head hurts. I haven’t felt like this in a while. A lack of sleep. There’s a mad rush for the loo. A waiting line. The call centre boy is monopolizing the loo. The yellow girl is beginning to look frantic. The blind girl is still playing chess.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

Project Bore

< style="font-family: arial;">Projector sounds like an uneasy mix of Moonspell on Irreligious and Children Of Bodom on Something Wild. Its all right but it has none of the intensity of their other albums. I may however grow to like it. That is the wonder of opinion. It can change. This is actually quite bad. Projector is Dark Tranquility’s One Second. Paradise Lost on One Second made a huge stylistic jump. I got one great song from that album and nothing else. Hopefully Projector will have one great song too. Nothing so far but hope remains. Projector’s kind of boring. Its half assed. Its as lame as the title of this little opinion.