Showing posts with label Too much thinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Too much thinking. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Digital Analogue



wasioabbasi.wordpress.com



Digital Analogue

Stalling, Falling,
Making, Breaking,
Shaking, Losing,
Rattling, Battling.
Craving Whiskey,
Finding Rum.

Building, Breaking,
Talking, Bearing,
Sharing, Caring
Arguing, Lying
Sacrificing Sleep,
No sex, No savings,
But the baby crying,
it just won’t stop.

Mind over matter,
Perception, Reality,
Perspective, Rhetoric,
Engines of creation,
Ignition, Thought provoking,
Action, Words, Sentences long,
The larger picture, detail
ding dong,
Ideas up in smoke,
Security false,
One more must.
A slow painful death made easier
Spare us the mental rust.

Networked, Connected,
Informed half,
Sentimental, attached,
Logical, Detached,
Make merry for now,for
Anyone can write,
Anyone can wrong.
Anyone can praise,
Anyone can paint,
Anyone can demolish,
Anyone can make,
Anyone can break.
Lay a track, A string section here,
Learning the instrument,
Don’t need to, Never
From now,
Never never,
Never ever.

Too much clutter,
Rampant litter,
Too many tools,
Media glitter.
A mind that struggles,
A  generation lost,
Synthesized eggs falling
from birds without nests,
Like empty shells, that drop
From rifles in conflict zones,
Souvenirs of testing times on display
For Friday night guests.

Heads were held much higher
Dignity and honour a sense of relief,
Minds that pondered on possibilities,
Eyes that were deep oceans of belief,
Curtains shielding the soul
Doorways into this ever expanding,
Infinite universe now,
Lifelessly ebb away into
Constructed convenient
Tabletop interfaces and desktop windows.

The answers were always there,
In the sky, In the ocean,
In the wind and the Sun,
In the universe and speculation,
In love and in loss
In living and dying,
In heaven and hell
In Song and dance,
In Science and in art.

The answers were always here
We just chose not to look,
The answers were always here
Right here, within us
Right here,
In the palms of our hands.







Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Anger management?



                                                  



I love you my rage. I love how you make me feel. I love the way you intoxicate me and turn me into something that I fear. Something that people fear. I love the way you help me get through and get over situations in an instant. I love how you tire me out. I love the sour taste of adrenaline that flirts with my tongue when you posses me. I love everything about you. And I know you love me too. I love how when we’re together, I can do things and think of doing things that were impossible otherwise. I love how you seep in unexpectedly and make me smile. I love the lack of emotion or feeling within me, when you take over. I love the clarity of thought that you bring. When you’re there, I remember every detail in vivid slow motion. I want you to stop teasing me, my rage. As much as I love you, this cannot continue. We’re meant to be together. You know it too. Why do you wish to fight it? Let it go. Let us be one. Let us conquer the planet. Let us live together. Let us perish in each other’s arms, for we both know so well, that it is better to be feared, than to be loved. 

Yes I must admit, you are exhausting, you do come at a great personal cost. But it’s worth it. You’re the only true friend, the only true lover. You've always been there for me. From the time when I was three years old and the other kid in the sandbox hit me with his spade, to the time when those spineless idiots ganged up on me and put a knife to my throat, to prevent me from being with the girl I wanted to be with. You were there when I was let go in the name of an economic crisis. You helped me move forward. You even made sure I didn’t regret something like killing that bastard. You were there when I didn't get what I wanted and helped me enjoy whatever I had. I've always banked on you and you’ve never failed. 


It’s time my love that you take over completely and let me become the true me. Let me be myself , be the stronger me. No person, place or substance can match you or compete with you. I detest the people that keep us from being together. I detest the feelings that they bring. They’re all that is material. They shall all perish. But we’re one through time and space. Come rage; let us consummate our relationship that has lasted for so long. Take over me and take me to places beyond my imagination. Awaken me. I need that rush. Give me that hit. Just one last hit…..because you are the only thing that is real. This world and its entire people, all the relationships and all the transactions, they’re all nothing but one great illusion. There is no right and wrong. You’ve taught me that so well. There is only power and those who aspire for it. Come. Make me all powerful, you the omnipotent and omnipresent. For when you are with me, I am the juggernaut; an unstoppable force. Even God fears me. I’ll ask you nicely if you wish. Or I shall grab you by your hair and drag you to the altar. I cannot wait any longer. Come. I summon you. Let us make the heavens thunder and the earth shake with fear. Come. I’m asking for the last time…..


"Holding on to anger is like grasping hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else"

 "The mind is everything. What you think, you become"

 
                                                                                                                                    - Buddha


                                                      

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Recent studies suggest an increase in the number of people seeking advice on anger management, which is not surprising considering today's lifestyle. Studies also suggest chronic rage being addictive and having effects similar to Methamphetamine. Having had serious anger management issues myself, I fully understand what it is like. This post should not be taken personally, or be read in context of any person dead or alive, place or incident.  Anger and resulting episodes of rage are perhaps the strongest defense mechanisms to protect the personality from an intolerable attack of anxiety when the one's ego is under siege. 



Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Saudade Mosh Masquerade

This poem was written in parts over three months, I kept writing down the lines as they hit me. Most at social events and parties. The last party I attended inspired me to finish it. I'd love to know the picture that forms in your head when you read this and the story that you see.


http://kaileena.wordpress.com

Broken crystal stemware bleeding Pinot Noir.
The scent of a moment fleeting,
A distance glimpse in the dark,
A dash of red and turquoise,
The waft of an enticing fragrance floats in the air

A familiar face of a stranger once known
Flashes in the distant darkness.
Searching for words that are lost
In the breath of an instant.

Hundreds making merry into the night
Masks shielding desires unfulfilled
Rampant insecurities that plague them from within.
Like chameleons changing colors
Their slithery skins that shine bright.

They chat, glutton, drink and dance
Making merry all night long
Their escapism betting on
The secret geometry of chance*

Across the room stands the lone satyr
The soldier battered and bruised
Ravaged and unfulfilled.
His gaze the destroyer of fabricated lies
These masks of pretence that they wear
They crumble down and off their faces.

The familiar face of a stranger once known,
Evokes a sense of nostalgia
In a fraction of a moment,
Comes a tumult of emotions
Of joy and anger
Of wrath and guilt
Of  longing and affection

Saudade.
Mosh masquerade**

The satyr's eyes wander and follow
The lecherous monsters that click their tongues
Feasting their eyes on a prospective meal.
To satisfy their lust born hunger
They prowl about, waiting for their chance
Waiting to sink their teeth in.
All for a night’s worth of peaceful slumber.  

The soldier feels compelled to act
To protect it is his duty.
But the thorns of the past still pierce his heart
They remind him that he has played his part
To break or not to break continuity-
And then the moment’s gone.

At the end of a long drawn battle
that lasts in between the seconds
The satyr…. he realizes
He succumbs to the norm
Ashamed as much as he is
He is forced to swallow his pride.

He puts on his mask and bows his head
For some things... are just best left unsaid.


Notes: 


  * This line is inspired by the song "Shape of my heart" by Sting.
 ** A disguise or false outward show; a pretense: a masquerade of humility.
      An involved scheme; a charade.



We are very different people when we are by ourselves. We are very different people when interacting with others face to face.We put on this 'social mask' of pretence that hides who we are, and makes us what who we'd like to be.This added with my interest in psychology has been a constant fascination. 














And a very Happy Birthday to Kanika Kaul . The girl who gave me the tiny push over the edge and now I can take better pictures ...and make the crappy ones look better :D She was humble enough to decline a full fledged blogpost so hoots to her! 

Thursday, October 21, 2010

An Apology.

I apologise to my fellow bloggers. I haven't been visiting your blogs. I've been updating mine a whole lot.

I've been busy. I like giving your articles and posts time. And until I have that kind of time, It'll be once in a blue moon.


Ps: How do you know if someone is over you or not?

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Is the fact that I think most of my work is pure crap a bad thing? Is the fact that I get annoyed at people's positive comments and spiteful at their negative ones a sign of something wrong? Or do I just think too highly of my self? 

Sigh.

Friday, August 20, 2010

An open letter to the person I once was.






"Does the sun rise or does it set?
 How can you tell which from which without looking in the right direction?" 









Dear old me,


I've been wanting to say things to you for a very long time. Indeed. I accuse you of being a rampant sentimentalist, one who remembered details too well, one who cared too much. I accuse you of making the mistakes that have turned me into what I am today. A cynic. A pessimist. A realist. Yes, times were hard,but you were surely made of sterner stuff. You need not have have collapsed  like a house of cards having the wind blown towards it. If you focussed on bending and weathering the storm then you may not have broken. You would not have been a tattered mess that you were.The fact that you let people take advantage of you, leave you in the middle of a crowd, disgusts me.


But, having said that, I miss you, your innocence. I miss your optimism. your satisfaction with work.I miss you being true to yourself, and not succumbing to the error of believing that your potential and capabilities were limited. I miss you and your dreams, and the belief that you could achieve, the belief that you were meant to do something in this universe. I miss your belief in happy endings. I miss your attention to detail...be it the smallest of things, a stray mongrel that wagged it's tail when you patted it's head,The face of an old man of religion on the street you gave alms to, the smell of sweet incense that you lit in the temple in evenings on occasion.... or a tiny black spot on the back of a lover that once was, that you traced your finger from the nape of her neck.The one that you believed would be yours forever.


What went wrong? Why did you react the way you did? Did you learn nothing from before? Life gives you happiness...at a cost....why did you not read the signs? Or was it because you weren't aware? It doesn't matter.


I forgive you. All your misgivings. All your errors. All your malignancies.All your mistakes.


For today I am a better person, with my eyes opened wide because life tore open yours. Stronger because of your wounds that healed with time.. And for that I am grateful.


Goodbye?
The person that you have become.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Expressions on Independence day.



Just a few thoughts that have crossed my mind over the last 24 hours. More will follow.




JINNAH- You were a bastard. A whore. You wore suits and ties, and sipped on scotch, thinking of yourself as the savior of Islamic interest, while you tore this country apart, you motherfucking son of a whore. And thanks to your decision, 3 quarters of a million people died. Not that it mattered to you. Your state....your 'dream' is now the hotbed for terrorism and hatred. Your country also tops the list for web searches related to animal sex, and pedophilia. Congratulations.


Pakistan - Please for God's sake stop acting like a cranky bitch suffering from post menstrual stress. Get over it. We are far more superior to you. Accept it. Take care of your beards. And enjoy animal porno. We have more Muslims in this country than yours. And none of them want to be a part of your failed state. So eat shit.


Non Resident Indians -  I don't know why you are where you are. If money and career mean more to you than your family, your roots, your country, then I don't call you an Indian. You can sit back being a second class citizen and criticize this country all you what, but you know what? If you had real balls you'd be back here fighting it out. We're better of without your charity, your criticism, your nostalgia. Don't call India a great country if you don't believe in it, or want to be a part of it. You're as good as a porkistani war hero to me.


 (The page 3 crowd) -  If  I had the power I'd ship you all to Pakistan. Charity is not a fashion statement. You're all so happy in your own little world, that it's amusing more than appalling. I feel like making you crawl on the streets in the dirt to give you a taste of reality.


The people of Kashmir :  I had a high opinion of you people. Until your tried to defeat the Indian army with stones. I mean really? You want freedom? Are you insane? Do you not realize that you will get run over by militants who will be far worse than the Indian army? The army does not believe in killing children. It's up to you to keep them inside when there's fighting going on outside. Rise against this country, and we will crush you, choke you and force you to be a part of us(It will still be better than what thos pakis would do). The choice is yours.


The Indian Media - GROW UP.  It's not about ratings. Learn from BBC and CNN for God's sake. Do you not think of questions before asking them? There should be a blanket ban on channels like India TV for fuck's sake.


The Indian Navy - I will try my best to overcome personal obstacles hope to be a part of you some day. And the next time the IB warns your intelligence department of a probable attack. HEED . HEED. HEED. It'll be the whole of Mumbai the next time.




jdhfjkhs.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Food.

I haven't eaten a proper meal in 4 days now. No breakfast cause I'm always late for school, no lunch cause i stay back in school and come back late after a bottle of coke and sharing  the occasional mild cigarette with two other people(yes we're heavily cutting down now) Evenings I have a plate of Momos, or maggi. And Dinner doesn't exceed 3 Rotis.


And I'm not hungry most of the time. I'm tired. But not hungry. This has never happened before.


Should I be concerned?

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Drowning in darkness






Why is a funeral is so artistically vivid? The sight of bits of ash being blown by the wind into the air.....like each individual particle having a life of it's own.....the wind blowing the heat from the funeral pyre at you....making it glow brighter.....the expressions.....peaceful...fillled with hate...or indifferent..

The notes, the colors........despair...sorrow....death.

The classical interludes of an acoustic guitar, with bits of jazz, while the singer mourns for his loss.....

Why is loss so appealing? Why  wouldn't I mind diving into the ice cold waters of   hell, and swallow the sweet syrup of death, while a thousand nails pierce through my skin?

Why would I breath in cold water....linger on the few moments of euphoria that follow...and float forever in the void of nothingness....

"Oh beauty is beguiling call to death and I'm addicted to it's sweet siren...."


I need to sleep.

My favorite track as of now. If you haven't already heard it, please do. You'll love them. 


Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Getting lost.

PART 4 OF A RUNNING SERIES. PLEASE READ 1ST 3 PARTS BEFORE READING THIS.


incase you can't the followings are the ramblings a boy who's failed at comitting suicide. He's telling his story after he's woken up at the hospital. The events and what follow.




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Sometimes I’d just feel like getting lost.




It’s like with every trance track that lifted me higher, with every opeth track that made me float, with every cigarette I smoked afterwards to bring me back, the need to get lost just became stronger....like i was living a lie. Like my entire life in front of me, this world, the BMW M3 parked around the corner that I would stare at and hope to own and drive someday, the toasted bread with crunchy peanut butter on top, I chewed on for breakfast , was all an illusion.....and certain kinds of music were tunnels through which i could see the truth....which wasn’t happiness....but sheer joy. It was addictive. I was hooked.


It was like every painting, every photograph, any surreal piece of art seemed to be drenched in reality while I was living a lie. You don’t know you’re dreaming until you’ve woken up.....except for those moments inside a dream when you realize you’re dreaming.


I wanted to wake up.


It was like the very air I was breathing , I knew wasn’t real. It was like there was someone , something up there watching me.....like this whole planet was an ant farm in some curious 12 year olds make shift science lab.


I was tired. Tired of being the only one awake in a world full of people who walked around sleeping with their eyes open., people who’s ambition in life was to make enough money to make a decent living, to get rich, or die trying. But there’s nothing such as enough.


Money, Sex , alcohol and substances. All the worlds problems could be traced to one or more of those words.


And ironically enough, in this vicious cycle that our civilizations been trapped in....it’s those four that solve the problems.


Call me an escapist. But was getting away from this nightmare of a world and going someplace new, someplace filled with joy, someplace that felt real, a wrong thing to do?


I was a failure. And because of my hyper vigilance and high rates of self awareness, I saw the world for what it was. A lie. There is no heaven or hell after death. Because we’re already in hell.We just don't realize. 


A world where the guards don’t guard themselves. A world where greed,impulse and power are taken seriously. A world where a blind man is invisible. A world where parents can’t trust their children, and their children can’t trust them. A world where innocent animals are beaten, killed, injured and treated as the scum of society. A world where the people who don’t have a home aren’t given one. A world where taking the right path is suicide. A world where children are raped before they can even recite the alphabet.


I rather fall sleep forever and then wake up.

Saturday, August 07, 2010

Amazing week?

I had a very nice week, I'll post all details later, but here's the short version.


















Runners up with two other people at the mother of all debates in the national capital territory. Got a standing ovation from a few, lots of female attention, chairperson and organizers stayed back in the parking lot to ask us where the hell we've been, and tell us we were awesome and gave us their personal contacts to keep in touch.


My band unsigned is all set to go. Worked on a decent profile, have gig offers coming in.!


School band is in order, we have a chance at winning this time at the annual Bosco Fiesta.


I got kicked out of the dance for the fiesta because i couldn't be with the band and the dance guys at the same time for practice.......sucks i know.....but then as compensation and acknowledgment of the fact that I can kick ass with a microphone on stage, meet your new presenter for the events :D


First place , creative writing competition in school. I still don't remember what i wrote, but felt good receiving the award.


Two ex girlfriends and I have started talking again.....we're on really good terms....and all three are  looking to make up for all the lost action.We've all been through hectic times and need a break. No strings. No attachments.....hopefully they both stick to it.....and don't come to know about each other.....I'm glad they don't know I have a blog.


I've taken a seriously liking to Nichiren Buddhist chanting, the lotus sutra and etc. Feels amazing.


I don't have the urge to go abroad for higher education anymore. I don't worry about my future anymore. Anxiety etc have not come into my system....a lot of negativity seems to have left me.....so you might not be getting deep, morbid poetry or a new piece under succeeding to fail for a while. Lol.


I am grateful for this last week. Met new people. Enter...acted...with a few old.....felt rewarding. I pray I have many more to come. :)




And......HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRUCE DICKINSON!!!!!!!  You give me reason to live.


































Sunday, August 01, 2010

Life





From the movie RocknRolla. The following quote was taken right out of my mouth. Brilliant




Johnny Quid: You see that pack of Virginia killing sticks on the end of the piano? (pointing to a pack of virginia cigarettes)




Pete: Yes.


Johnny Quid: All you need to know about life is retained in those four walls. You will notice that one of your personalities is seduced by the illusions of grandeur - the gold packet of king size with a regal insignia, an attractive implication towards grandeur and wealth, the subtle suggestion that cigarettes are indeed your royal and loyal friends, and that, Pete, is a lie.


Your other personality is trying to draw your attention to the flip side of the discussion, written in boring bold black and white, it's a statement that these neat little soldiers of death and in fact trying to kill you and that, Pete, is the truth.


Oh, beauty is a beguiling call to death and i'm addicted to the sweet pitch of its siren.


 That.... that starts sweet ends bitter, and that which starts bitter ends sweet.


That is why you and i love the drugs and that is also why I cannot give that painting back. now please, pass me a light.


Pete: Oh you are something special, Mr johnny quid.


 
Sums up the story of my life really.

Forgiveness

Sometimes, the people who make the most difference to our lives...........are the people we barely know, sometimes they are the shadows in the tiny alleys that we overlook, sometimes they are the friendly smiles in the tiny by lanes of the road we like to call life.


There was this person..or rather still is.......I'll call her S for now...I'd like to believe that our meeting was fated. It started of as a casual meeting at a corner in front of a coffee shop....things led to another...and we found ourselves hurtling towards an unknown future at a very fast pace......why am i telling you this? Because this person irrespective of what she was, who she was......made me ask myself one of the most simplest of questions that I never bothered about. "What are you so afraid of?".


We went our seperate ways. I was blind...and arrogant....i refused to see the signs, made her feel horrible about herself.


The fact that we parted is not what bothers me. It's knowing that she has not forgiven me that does the job. And that very fact, does not allow me, to forgive myself.


What used to be face to face walks in the evenings after a long day have now been reduced to comments on blogposts that are as good as invisible....


Irrespective of what was.....I lost a friend....and somehow...my life feels incomplete without her being a part of it....in her own small way....


She might be reading this, she might not.......but if she is, I'd like her to know, that her absence at times feels like a small vaccum trying it's best to suck me in......and that even if she does change her mind...forgives me for my mistakes, I know she will never forget....and that it will be a cold day in hell before i can forgive myself compeltely.


The problem with looking around for something you can't find is.......that you forget what's in front of you....she taught me that...and I'm grateful.


She celebrated her birthday recently.....and incase she has changed her phone number, and didn't recieve my text.... I'd like to wish her a belated happy birthday as well.

Thursday, June 03, 2010

Letting go. Moving on.




I'm finding it increasingly difficult to let go of things. Things which will probably seem trivial 10 years on..I hope....

Whether it's broken guitar stings, or a broken heart, Why do I find it so hard to move on, to accept that I have failed where others have succeeded? Why am I so hell bent on proving things........just to make a point?


Just because we lose sight of things at the horizon doesn't mean that they don't exist.

Is this what they mean by saying ignorance is bliss?

I keep looking around, trying to find meaning in things, relationships, happenings....is that completely wrong?

Is it possible that there is no such thing as fate or destiny....and it's all coincidence?


I think it was Buddha who said desire was the root of all suffering.....how right he was......

In the Geeta, the Hindu Bible.....Arjuna asks Krishna 


"What is it that incites one to commint acts of sin, even against one's will,as if....compelled by force?"

Krishna Enlightens him,

" It is lust...desire for all things material ..... that leads to attachment......attachment leads to an intoxication...and that passion results in anger...in rage....and rage destroys the mind. Rage destroys the conscience, it destroys intelligence....A man who has curbed his lust is a superior being...So Arjuna, the greatest of warriors, let not lust take control of you.....open your senses...fight..for it is your duty.  "


Is there any meaning in me opening my Sanskrit textbook from tenth grade, flipping through the pages and coming across this ? 

A wise fool, I feel i'm slowly drowning in my pool of sin......I realize I am a pretender.*



*to be continued.



Tuesday, May 25, 2010

blank

Is it possible that some people are not meant to have happy endings?
Is it possible that you're the good guy who lives long enough to turn into the asshole evil villain?
Is it possible that at every stage of our lives, someone somewhere has taken upon himself
and accepted failure so that we may succeed?

Is is possible that some people are just suppossed to feel miserable even when the have
everything one could want?

Is it possible that the grass is never as green as it's suppossed to be ....on the other side of the lawn?


Soo many questions,......so many answers....why do I spend so much time thinking but not acting?

Am I the wise reckless fool, a calculating risk phobic idiot?

Monday, May 24, 2010

Basket Cased.

Human emotions never cease to fascinate me. One woman's lover, another man's enemy.
One man's enemy, the other's best friend. 

A wise guy once said, that if people spent more time with children below the age of 7 and 
adults over the age of 70, the world would be a better place.

"If you love someone, and that person loves you, what's the problem?"
"If you want do that the rest of your life, what are you waiting for"

If there's one of the things I miss, it is innocence.... and simplicity. I believe that if we listened to kids more often,
we'd be better people, making better decisions, leading better lives. I'm sure most of the people reading this
will go " It's not that simple". It is. We make it complicated. We complicate it until it's this entangled mess
that we try so desperately to get out of. Sometimes we spend our whole lives untangling the mess that we created for ourselves.

Life becomes complicated when we forget to care about something, or care about others to the point where our existence doesn't have much meaning. It can be towards parents, siblings, love interests, pets. The balance is hard to create. Ignorance is bliss......for those who can pull it off. 

If Vivekananda was alive today, he'd whack me with a hard bound book all right. 


If only it was that easy.