Point counter point

"Etherized upon a table"

The sleep, they say, is necessary for optimal operation of human machinary; machinary being brain, and various anatomical features that make up a person. Organs however, must work first in oder to get tired and sleep. Tiredness can be achieved by working or by not working at all; not working when accompanied by continuous plans to work. So the fatigue earned is not because of the brain activity and the plans to finish everything before going to bed, but a result of hyper-procrastination: when every minute is deemed unsuitable to initiate an activity, and the moment after appears to be the perfect moment. The moments in discussion consequently shrink as compared to their normal duration. The durations accumalate and reinforce the fatigue -- hence, not being tired of waiting, but because of some form of repentence. Repenting on not wasting time, but the fact that multiple snooze moments on the alarm clock were not added togather to yield a greater and much bigger moment of undisturbed solitude, and dreaming. Dreams of finishing work in time. How useless!

"Etherized upon a table"

"Etherized upon a table"
Now thats life!!

Wake up at 9AM.
Breakfast: 3 Pills of isolouble fiber, along with water.
Lunch: Subway
From 3PM to 5:30PM: Gym time. Workout behind the sign that reads "Watch me Grow".
5:40PM: One 32 OZ Galdiator smoothie with additional protiens, total protien count 78gms.
6:15: One hour sleep.
Prime Time: Random stuff
Dinner: One Glass of high concentration protien shake along with fiber. Total Protien count 63gms.
2AM: Sleep time

crap in D minor.

"Etherized upon a table"

Its been 3 weeks since i have lost my Muse. I cannot write anymore; my inspiration is dead. I picked up the pen earlier, but the light pelican feather was not strong enough to bear the rugged grip of my grief and just crumbled into my hands. The inkpot stayed there watching the pen die. However, later rejuvinated as my fingers invaded its tiny privacy limited only to the pens in the past. The paper and the pen both were played by my own skin. This play of caligraphy didnt last much long. Distracted by time itself perhaps, I looked outside the window to see the rain pouring through the leaves of an old willow tree. The greyness, with a thick accent of chill in its dialouge, was probably too harsh for me to bear. I tried to listen to what the falling drops had to say, but the murmurs of the fire in the fireplace, reaching out for me, were a distraction. I have told them before, but they never seem to listen and the flames are restless.

the true direction

"Etherized upon a table"

• You can go naaa, while I am going naa.


• Screw you guys I am going naaa. Naaa, niaaaan.

All in a days work.

"Etherized upon a table"

Just to give you a view of a typical day, I have decided to publish some hand selected real quotes or events.

At the Blockbuster

I asked for Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and the clerk girl thought that I said Live Stock and Two smoking barrells. I could not contain my laughter, which embarassed her. Later when I was checking out she said,"dont think I dont know whats going on", in a light mood. I told her, "well awareness is a bliss for you". "Actually, I am into "Live Stock" very much!" She gave me the strangest of looks, as she did not get what I said, or might have taken it to beasiality (ofcourse) , so I explained, "Live Stock, Its very nutrious - try it sometime".

At the Bowling place:

I asked for shoe size 15. She turned back with that look that one has on their faces after they feel that they have been had, so I told her that I am just kidding; I like to brag about my size. Its 10 actually.

Jungian Archtypes and Gandhi:

Vincent: Gandhi found his Jungian Archtypes while bathing in Ganga river. He wasnt very much pleased. Later he had to remove them through enema.

AOL Instant Messenger Sucks:

I am not fond of AOL instant messenger's emoticons. I hate this one specially :) (the plain old smiley).
Vincent: I hate AIM.
Xyz: Why?
Vincent: I hate this face. It looks like a two-holed-ass with a smile.

ajdfhj

"Etherized upon a table"

Through my existance;
through my broken heart;
i feel that I am saying the turth.
I feel that I see things;
I see the reality
through the eyes of rationality,
I see througth a peespective
unkown to commen men.
I feel what only a few could feel.
I feel the pain,
I under go the suffering,
I see the saw put on my legs,
I see the blood flow through
the tense veins.
Then I wonder,
with a broken heart,
with a feeling that justice cannot
prevail.
And I am bound to bear this,
and realize it as a truth
till I die;
ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
I though, wish
my eyes were a mirror
reflecting the reality
through those broken images.
I think that I understand the philosophy of life,
and I feel that its pretty much simple,
and one should not kill
to implement it
in their own fucking lives.

Finals No more!

"Etherized upon a table"

if you want it you can get it;
let me know.
Lets go.

sands of time

"Etherized upon a table"


The lingering descripencies of my entire existance,
contrasted with the shallow depths of befallen reality,
overly undone concious decisions
ruined by the meek assertiveness,
miserable persistance, and once prevailing ambitions
stand in the penny arcade of the time's plaza;
resembling the questions
which once stood stout,
infront of the magic mirror of youth,
they stand stout,
but infront of the hands of the clock,
stuffed and mummified,
Their eyes wide open and faces astound.
The hour passes, the hands impel,
the clock strikes some music into the air,
glee like a blossoming camelia spreading fragrance,
the message resounds through those empty stares:
Moments are the beads in the thread of time,
And the necklace shines for those who know
The eternity is in a moment –
Each followed by another,
as they slip through the fingers of perception.

Of Food and a Man

"Etherized upon a table"

He could see the rope unfolding and reaching the ground, like a huge tounge rolls out of a giant's mouth; in this case the giant was the castle. Then out of the mist, behind the red curtains of silk, a face appeared, and the slightly gestured the arms signaling something: as a policeman directs traffic. The signal was a clear sign for him to ascend the rope of his dreams (last night's dreams perhaps). He grabbed the rope in his hands, and pulled it. He was unsure of the knot up there; as if he could not trust the face. He grabed the rope, only to let it go after he realized he could not climb without the help of his feet. So he took of his boots, and stuffed them into his overcoat's pocket. He started climbing the rope.

To his surprise there was no one to recieve him on the balcony, and he had to make his way up the heavy stone's gothic-railing; breathless, he took a while to calm before finally crossing the red curtains. In the room, he was greeted by darkness, while his pupils took time to adjust to the dim candle light. Finally, he started noticing the aroma of desire inside the room.

A royal bed with veils dropped, covered with off-white sheets of silk, which shone in the candle light, harboring fruits on them. Fruits, that were scattered from one corner of the bed to the other. He saw a plaintain peeking from under the pillow, on top of which rested a water-melon - both of which pointed in the same direction of two red round tommatoes. Tommatoes, as if bowing down to the greatness of the Cucumber. The mighty, the colosus cucumber. In the back of his mind he felt that it was an arabic cucumber; unleashed from some ancient desert's fairytale. The apples were the mere spectators. And the melons seemed to had a high esteem of organizers of the show, perhaps -- they were to be thanked after every applaud, and congratulated at the end.

Noticing his pockets heavy, he realized his boots were still in there. Mind boggled with the intensity of the scenerio, and heaviness of his pockets, he gently grabbed the toe of his left boot, and slid it out, very gently and slowly, as if he did not want his coat to mind that. He repeated the same with the other boot, with the same caution, but this time his eyes catching glance of a radish, on the floor, with long green leaves, smothered togather, giving an impression of a long leather strap. His boots were destined to rest with the raddish on the same grounds.

Overwhelmed, and perhaps euphoric for no reason at all, he looked around, when a voice distracted him from the other corner of the room. He turned spontaneously, to be greeted with a smile on the face, and hear the words, "The dinner is served".

Finals

"Etherized upon a table"
I was checking the site statistics today. It appears that because of the finals, the hits per day has dropped tremendously. I myself, havent had time to put anything on here.
Curse you finals! I hope you go to hell, you go to hell and you die, finals!