an advice

deepning thoughts weakens determination.

countlessness and trust

Taken I have pen tonight to express myself on an issue so haunting. I have written, but nothing important in recent days, even months; successfully wasting the not so scarce bits of information for nothing meaningfull.
The only reason in sight is my over indulgence in technology field. I could write about practical issues of 7th degree polynomials, but restrain myself, I did. Why would anyone wanna read about polynomials on a blog named etherized upon a table?
Sometimes I feel this struggle between science and arts is a foreshadow to a deeper conflict yet to be revealed.

etherized upon a table

How could I explain it to you? How could I tear open the bosom of this tale, and let the agony flow. You suppose its hard? I concur no more than I have been through. Perhaps, I could symbolize it. Yeah, thats what they do - thats what they do when they fail to express themself to their commarades, and friends. Thats exactly what they do when they are past the barriers of common comprehension, they opt for slow poisoning. People do not want to hear about it, but are rendered ineptly helpless against the spearing metaphors. Metaphor is like a snake that creeps up to their throats while they sleep.

There is a chair in that corner. Nobody has sat on it for months. There hangs a jacket on it. The seat is covered with a thin film of dust. Its been beset to disposing when some time is available to clean up. A wasted chair.

This man sits there by the mailboxes on his wheel chair. He has an expression of emptiness. I cant help but wonder about his life each time I drive by. There is this solitude in his eyes, this vacum which has sucked all expression from his face. There is never a smile to be seen. His wrinkled face is a time line of events of stagnancy. Time has this pernicious capacity of inertia. It halts, sort of brakes, when life is taking turns on the corners of hardships; and sometimes there are only turns and no straight roads in the puzzle of life. He will die one day, on the same wheel chair with the same blank face of pain - same face of no complains. There may not be a tear in his eye.

This lies a hair brush on the dressing table. It is tangled with the hair I have lost - spawned webs of hair. I do not use it anymore. Why? Perhaps, its too dirty, and old. Perhaps, it reminds me when I had a full scalp of hair. Whatever the reason, it will just lay there till someone just throw it away, and I will not even notice.

Dostoevsky's Idiot is next to my bed side table. I read it till almost the end, but never finished it. I am too afraid to discover formyself Prince Myshkin's doom. I will put it in my library of books, so it always reminds me of this guilt.

Sorry folks!

Thanks to those spamming comments, I have turned on the word verification feature. So, now posting a comment is real easy. When you click submit, it will show you a picture and ask you what you read over there. You'll have to type that in a box, and hit send again.
P.S:
It really pisses me off that people like me have put in our blood to nourish the internet. We have always been the ones who have spent long hours, cold nights, and god knows what infront of the monitors. And now, every asshole: tom, dick, harry, john thommas, is trying to make money off it. Those bastards! they dont even know binary number system from a pop tart! What really pisses me off is the online fuckin dating trend. Only, geeks have a legitimate right to use those sites. FUCK YOU spammers, and tom, dick, harries! Fuck you in your ears.

medical history

I recieved a call from my doctor's clinic today. Apparently, my reports of all those tests came back. I was fortunate enough to see him on the same day, this evening.
He was euphoric since he thinks he has finally diagnosed why I suddenly start hearing that hissing/whizzing sound in my head with a blurring vision. Not only that, he says the exact source of this problem is responsible for my decreased attention span, and increased randomness (creativity, I like to call it, since it lets me think out of the box, and probably, out of the blue too).
The blood tests, and the x-rays show that there is a small imaginary formation next to the pituatry gland, on the underside of the brain. It interferes with the entire endocrine system, releasing stuff that is orthognal to the hemoglobin in the blood cells, and would receed to the absoloute value of the partial differential if using determinants. He even showed fears of tripple scalar products.
However, he assured me that I have nothing, whatsoever, to be afraid of - at the most I will die. And anyone living has to die one day. He estimated that I have only a few decades left of my life. So basically, I have lived less than a quarter of my projected life span, already.
He wants to put me on a strict medication schedule. I will have to have atleast 3 meals a day; constituting a balanced diet. ...
Screw it, I am tired of this frustrating life.

senseless decisions out of fear

In the scorching chill of the night, in the restless shadow of a shimmering light, in the mist of ambiguity, in search of the self, fluttering like hungry voulters; flying over those half-alive bodies; the beating drums in the viel of civility, whizzing in some remote jungle; they are proud on man's nature, today again they are proud of victory, those senseless decisions out of fear!

'tis true, I have lost all my inspiration for writing meaningful. I am doomed.

The Teeth

Perhaps the most important thing in human body is the collection of teeth. If you may notice, the humble narrator has not identified the mouth as a passage of importance but the very thing that dewels in it. The activities of the mouth are potently depended on the teeth, except when they are not desirable on certain occasions and during peculiar rituals. The teeth have, over the history, achieved the status of a phenomenon. They are not to be taken lightly, and certainly must not be considered as just the sculptures of calcium rooted into the gums.
The presence and importance of teeth can be noted into various aspects of human psychology, and the derived anthropology. The teeth as a collection, and not just a tooth, are the canvas of human expression. The teeth formulate the joyous expression of a smile, altough it may seem that a grin would suffice, but it would not. Similarly, a laughter is just an exaggeration of the the teeth's will to absorb necessary air, when present. Hence, we can conclude that teeth have a brain of their own; that hanging piece of flesh just above the throat and behind the tongue is the control center of teeth's activities. Hence the upward movement with disgust when a thing is swallowed instead of being chewed.
Sigmund Freud could not understand the delicate relationship between the dreams and the teeth. He misinterpreted the symbol of a snake. The snake instead depicts the teeth's desire to bite, for there are many people who crush teeth while sleeping. That crushing of the teeth is not to be taken casualy as just a reflex action to a dream but there is more. The teeth have a universal language of their own. The language is the mother tongue of Alvish, and Whale language. The high notes of both the forementioned languges are replaced by the crushing sound called "scruitnizing jab" in another dialect. The teeth answer to the call of communication under dire circumstances of uncircumsised necessity. The message is ciphered and has an 8-bit preabmle frame of snoring. The entire mechanism of communication is far beyond the scope of our discussion.
The total human behavior is governed by the teeth activity. A lay man may think that anger gives rise to gestures like yelling behind the shut teeth, but it is brilliantly naive to assume such an idea, at the most. What happenes during anger is that adrenaline is secreted by the responsible endocrine glands into the body. The effect of adrinaline is contraction of muscles for agility. If teeth are not crushed at the right moment it may cause the shut down of rectum which may lead to a fatal comma.
The teeth in collection are the most powerful thing in the human body and our society. They are beyond and independent of any mortal requirements. The teeth may not be cleaned for it is not required. This leads to the discovery that it is always "tooth paste" and never "teeth paste". Teeth are the defenders of humanity. On intimate social occasions nothing gives a shiver like a siting of pointed teeth does (readers are urged to use their immagination here).
Teeth are also the symbol of youth. A mouth without teeth is chaos. A whore's mouth without teeth is further chaos. Men, women around the world who have lost their youth (the teeth) often try to replinish their loss with fake ones. Even those artificial teeth have life. They need to be in a glass of water for 8 hours a night. This water is not recomended for drinking as it acquires the biting property from the subject in discussion and may quench the anatomical parts, otherwise suggested to be always open.

King Lear like never before. (my very own version of the Tragedy)

Lear sitting on a chair with a hollow bottom, covered around with a royal red silk on the sides, with a royal coat of arms in the front. Fool is standing next to him.)


Lear: A terrible phantom has been beset on my once good fortune. Curse the evil spirits who linger in the foods we eat, and manfiest their pestilent presence as low fiber. Howl, Howl, how once mighty Lear, the ruler of England with a Divine right, is now inept to control what was bestowed by heavenly father as thy own body; something right under our bossom. O my dear Fool, my forces are exhausted and yet there is no sign of that vile thing.

Fool: The reward of relaxation is to be achieved only after contemplation, manipulation, and exhaustation of the Royal will.

Lear: The power of Christ compells thou: Make haste, make exit - pernicious creature of hell!
O, this inflicting agony! The Lord is indifferent to us. Fool, We must do in our powers what is, to make the Holy Father happy, so He may summon this dwelling serpent back to hell.
Hurry, messenger, messenger!! Take our orders to the general for it is our will to free Jerusulem and start a crusade or two.
(messenger runs out of the room with the message)

Lear: the Royal feast the night past we ate but a whole pig. The royal physician advised us to eat green vegetables before he was put in the stocks.
'Tis agony is my own sin, I cannot agree. I am a man more sinned against than sinned. The visisitude of felicity is a fist full of sand. What art the purpose of this life? 'Tis desired I give up eating, and let the hunger infest on the King?

Fool: Nay, nuncle.
The steadfast and reckless hunger
Is a reaction to an eminent danger.
If one were not to eat in life;
if one were, for food, not strive,
will end up with a spawned web
in between the buttocks' hive.

(Enters Kent)
Kent: My Lord, terrible terrible new ...

Lear: What could be more attrocious than a jamed king, Kent? Speak with our permission.

Kent: The carvan of ration, from town 40 days far, is stuck in a terrible storm they cant escape. The messenger tells of two mountains on each side, and a narrow path in between a haunted forrest, infested with the nastiest creatures of the devil's kingdom lay between them and England. We will all die without food, by Jupiter!

Lear: The jam in my pathway is more stronger than of those mountains. I am applying the last pore of my energy right now to open it.

Blow buttocks, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my white mumbling ass! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the the brown beast in me on the ground.
Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once
That make me a greatful man!

Fool: nuncle, take it easy. methinks, it works!

Lear: Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain!
I owe thou no subscription: then, let fall
Your horrible pleasure; here I sit on flush, your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man.
But yet I call you servile ministers,
Your high-engender'd battles 'gainst an ass
So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul.
You monstorosity of hell, brown, hard like rock
creature get out of me,
and let me live and eat free.

Kent: My Lord, you are almost there. Alack! bare-headed! I see the vile head of the monster and the stench it bears.

Fool: The brave hector, and the baby hercules,
were confronted to 'tis alike.
The color may had varied
from classic brown to spinach green.
The wise old man must remember
a cucumber a day will keep
vile devil at a bay.

Lear: Room spins, and I faint. O! I faint.

[end scene]

Meaning to life

The steadfast and reckless hunger
Is a reaction to an eminent danger.
If one were not to eat in life;
if one were, for food, not strive,
will end up with a spawned web
in between the buttocks hive.

The colors of distress - shallowness of hopelesness

The long hours have lost their charm and they pass as light does in a vacume. Once upon a time I was serious about my goals and ambitions, but now it seems, something has been displaced - entropy of my thoughts have increased, perhaps. I held a torch in my hand in a darkest hour of a cold night, and I could see a path, a walkway infront of me, in a radiant circle of the torch light. I only realized the trail led to a falling cliff when I was only a footstep from it. The torch light had nothing to illuminate except for that abysmal void.

In such moments only the rationality strides, and solve the truths of flummoxing mazes of ambitions, goals, and even vital predicaments. Pragmatized, I have that there is nothing worthy enough to be worried about. Life is a big farce - no, wrong. Life is but a note played on a piano that was lost in the air, and whose prescence is a function of a fading memory. This is all that maters: the fading moment that will soon be lost.
Why should one worry about the quizes, the exams, and even graduation then?

brain wave overload

Things ought not to make sense all the time. Time must not be all spent figuring out sense behind things. Figuring out stuff must not go around in a diurnal. It is called a break.
When I am breaking, must it mean that I am broken, and I will call it a break. Calling some thing a break must be in the context of not figuring out stuff. Stuff must not be taken seriously, as it ultimately leads to a breakdown. My breakdown commences right now - adieu.

aijvoishgaefi aiodfhjaio hajnfa hadn woej san ia nflkad isj ie
aidha sakdn ioweir kjsdhfaehrwp pki paij;faf j nvewr op [adfjpowej nv
aefaiodfoias viojfwien soaefwe - vile.

A licenced whore

In unperturbed solitude of the night,
below the visage of horizon,
lingers a licenced-whore with ass tight,
vapors of chill infest her breath,
Obsequiously, as she works on her client's flesh.

my felicity a spectacle
when shed were the leaves of silence.
If permited I would have told you.
Liberated from the dungeons of time, if,
I would have whispered to you -
the truth of apocryphal truths.
But let it be -
Let it linger some more,
and the dew which is wrapped
beneath the eyelids
change color,
for red stains are forever.

A battle well won

I have not been updating my blog since I have been posting comments and fighting on other people's.
So I got into a fight with this person, and she would just not give up. Finally I put her to rest by the following post:

"Glad I am you have shattered the silence. Had I but time, I could tell you, but let it be. If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, absent thee from filicity awhile, and in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain to tell my story.
I restrained the horses of my speech from mudding the white collar of hypocricy. Denounce, I did by virtuous silence the Lord of Burgundy. Thy dearest friends, ones who live by reciting the passing-of-wind in their conversations void of civility, shall face themselves in the mirrors of conscience. The dying cynicism of their's wont revive their wretched lives.
The hands of the clock tick as if suggesting, "must you have listened to the fool" - Hath they not been a reactionary, and egotistical, the world would have embraced them with pride - but this most excellent canopy of the air, this brave overhanging firmament, this magestical roof with golden fire, is reduced to a foul pestilent congregation of vapors, when wit becomes the prey to pernicious, racist, arrogant sentiments, un-understood by the harboring creatures."

She retreated by saying the following:
"[...] [I] was caught off guard, clearly I was not ready to confront such a being who was so skilled at defending (even the) poorely conjured ideas and bad allegories [sic]. [...] [I] am truly sorry if I offend for it is not intention, all is said with a good clean conscious. Love all around!"

She had no choice but to give up.
It feels so good to have won a battle ;) - eh?

The rafting trip post

So, we had these water proof cameras, but they proved to be not really water proof. Therefore, no post about the rafting trip. The entire matter of cameras is antagonizing.

My pet

adopt your own virtual pet!

Click here to find out what happened to my other pet.

Coming up

A sudden midnight program to New Braunfels,TX for a white water river rafting trip; along with pictures - coming up soon.

A Question

Well, such devastation have we witnessed in the last few days as an aftermath to the Hurricane Katrina, which according to some is an aftermath itself to 2004 elections. There has been a lot of blaming going on, politicians are polishing their acts, the newspapers are full of shit etc. etc. However, this post is not meant to reflect on the political hegemonies of this naturally-inflicted-man-worsened-disaster. The devastation is enormous, and the grief limitless.

I was skimming throuhg Houston Chronicle yestarday, trying to find a news report. Somwhere deep inside the paper I found this report in advertisement sort of margins. It was a public service announcement kind of thing and it dealt with "how to talk to your children about the devastation of Katrina". I read through it; it followed a format similar to a steak recipie, given by some alter ego of Martha Stewert.
It provoked only one thought - a disturbing question. (one more thing, city of Houston does not have a true newspaper. Houston Chronicle is just a scam to sell coupons for HEB and Walmart).

I am not a parent, hence disqualified from answering this question, therefore I pose as it is: What is the cause of this paralysis of parenthood that renders the parents inept of knowing their offsprings and communicating with them? The parents apparently lack confidence within themselves, so they have to look forward to a conforming-medium to tell them what to do. This is certainly, in my opinion, a triumph of institutions over individuality. This appears to be an end to uniqueness. Our children will be zombie-like organic machines getting their daily dose of instructions from the conforming institutions? Our society is full of such impotent parents who happen to hold positions of power, and therefore, perhaps, we must not be surprised that it took 4 days to respond to one of the greatest disasters in US history. The Inflicity of the situation is petrifying.

Gotham City

I was on I-10 West Houston, when I noticed the presence of Batman in the vicinity. Without wasting a second I took out the cell phone from its non-existant holster and shot this picture with one hand, while other was on the wheel - a remarkable stunt!

Survival and Beauty

She has not forgotten the lessons learned from the hardships of the forefathers. It appears she has paid special attention to the famines of the past which horrifies our world still, and dog us through the well preserved nightmares of Herodotus. Her honor is not just the knowledge but actually her virtue - she is pious as her beliefs are reflected by her body from every angle. She could have been stranded on the Noah's arch and would have survived for years for what she believes; Even the camels, and the hienas who'd feed on the carcases of camels, and even the voulters who'd feed on dead hienas - even Noah the God's messenger. If she were on Appolo 13, she would have out lasted every starving crew member, and even the ship, which was so low on fuel. One can visualize her next to the melting Chernobyl and surviving the the penetrating radiations, protected by this nature's gift; the gift she has claimed herself.
She has this aura around her - This stubborn glycogen; huge reserves of it. She believes in eating. She is an American. She is fucking fat.

tonight

Violins in my ears
Cello in my ears
Trumpets and flutes
in my ears
They all stop; a proceeding silence
And then
The piano in my soul
Sings up
Harmonizing the resonating strings
Key after key
Majors and minors
Ds and Gs
Happiness followed by melancholy
These eyes bowing
To the spreading peace inside
The mind's cycles descending
15, 12, 10, 9
And then silence.
The Piano stops.
Violins,
Cello,
Trumpets and flutes
They play but I am asleep now.

Were my agony to find eloquence

My pain a soundless song
My entity a faceless trace
Were my agony to find eloquence
My being would find its evidence
Were my trace to gain an eminence
It would rid me of my nescience
Were I to attain omniscience
My words would break my reticence
I'll become king of the universe
Command heights of magnificence

By: Faiz A Faiz.
(A translation)