Nothing [ a play ]

Act I Scene I
A. What is that thing?
B. Where?
A. There (pointing towards it).
B. Its nothing.
A. Nothing? What do you mean nothing?
B. Do you want me to look it up on the dictionary.com for you? Nothing means nothing.
.... Its nothing.
A. You are a freak, I am talking about that tree.
B. Oh, so you are asking me what is that tree?
..... But you already know that its a tree. It has leaves full of tasty cholorophyl, and it even makes its own food and ...

A. you are crazy.
B. What? I am crazy? How am I crazy? Are you accusing me of being irrational?
A. Well no, I dont think if you are irrational, but you simply come across as a crazy person.
B. You should take your comments back. I am not crazy, I just observe more than you do.
This world is more colorful to me than your average rainbow.
A. yeah, it may very well be ...
B. Why you dont believe me?
A. I didnt say that.
B. Ok, let me ask you a question.
Why is "I" (reference to onself) is written in capital letters in english ...?

A. Because it implies a noun.
B. let me finish .. where as "you" is not capitalized?

[pause]

A. I am not sure. I think its just a convention.
B. Oh! so its just a convetion now, and when I told you about the conventional cholorophyll you thought I was crazy.
You are a hypocrite, thats what you are.

A. This was a lame question. What would make a person notice such a silly technicality? Ask me another one.

B. Ok.
[thinks for a sec]

B. Why do people fall in love?
A. wait a minute! No, no no no. Its not a leagal question!

B. What do you mean "its not a legal question"?
A. I mean we are acting in a stupid play about nothing, and we are not supposed to make any sense at all. We are fools but not Shakespeare's Fools. Do not even try to be Shakespeare's Fool because he had ADHD, and you are just ... constipated.

B. What do you mean by "not supposed to make any sense at all".
A. Think about it. It does not matter what you and I say or think. We are expendable.
B. Is the author an economist?
A. No! thats not what I imply by "expendable".
B. Then what do you mean?

A. Well, Let me explain.
What is your name?

[B thinks and hesitently] ... B.
and you are A!

B. So you see, he didnt even care to give us proper names. That asshole!
A. [yells] You bastard!!
... But then what is this play all about. It doesnt even have a plot. We as characters are not evolving, and there is not even a moral to this play.
Its not even a fucking tragedy: there is no girl in this play!!

B. Well, this play is about what I responded to your first question earlier: nothing.
A. Nothing?
B. Yes, its nothing.
A. I get it now. Its an ode to nothing!

[B sings]
O nothing so formidable,
so arrogant, so vile, and so pathetic,
you are where no one is,
you will be when there will be no one.
I am B and you are A,
in this play we be,
and we mean collectively nothing.

A. Suck my balls.
B. Amen!

The End.

nailed em!

Mourning. No, its 6th sense

Success is like the taste of blood, once you experience it, it comes back and haunts you wanting for more. Wait, I cant write about success for there is a lingering thought that just wont go away:
Shattered pieces of my ragged body once more color the pathways to success; Futile struggle of finding love plagues like vicious dreams. Faith, trust, sureity, security are just the words made for fools, and the optimistic is always slained. Life's lessons are conjuror's tricks and the truth is never revealed.
The thought just died there, and my mind has gone blank. (Back to the prepration for Cal III exam)

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

a shiraz tree

Numerous tries, countless struggles, and the infinite scope of fears is what defines this old tree. The tree wanted to grow when it was a tender young plant. Unsure of the destiny, and the inflictions of what may come it branched out. It branched out into many branches each having the spirit of a complete tree. They all grew, and prospered - the tree prospered. Here it stands firm, and tall, reaching for the skies, and yet at the same time spanning horizontally across the horizon. Here it is as a symbol of struggle for life, beautifully and erect with its ugly rough skin. It is what it had feared all its life.

your face [skip this] //incomplete

heart,
in the bazar of heart,
wealth is not a consideration.
If fallen in love,
face is not a consideration.
On your face let me spend
my eternal life,
for price is not a consideration
for wanted goods.
Gave my heart,
I gave my heart;
there was a boundary to love.
Gave life; there was a boundary.
I died, with eyes closed,
this was a boundary to my heart.
[chorus] your face
let me imagine you,
I paint you periodically.
[chorus] your face, your face, your face
O, who saw in;
your black eyes,
there's a magic, died!
[chorus] your face, your face, your face
Theie hair and my hand,
like a snake charmer playing with the sanke,
dark shadows on the face,
on the verge of dawn: the diminishing dusk.
[chorus] your face, your face, your face
to you sir,
to you sir, there is one thign i wanna say,
"forget it there is nothing i wanan say".
[chorus] your face, your face, your face
Its so heartfelt scene,
how heartfelt nights
when her thought and the talks with the moon.
Its me, and them, and the talks with the moon.
[chorus] your face, your face, your face
[chorus] in our eyes, your love hurtsm, then what should we do.
beauty, and love, ther eis a differnce,
wghat can i do, i believe in both.
if god is angry i bow,
what must i do if the lover is mad?
some thoughts with no patterbb,
must pislish it.
moooooooooohaaaaaaaaaaaahahhhhaaa
making a nest was my job,
if someone hits with lightining
then what must i do
I am rick james bitch.
[chorus] your face, your face, your face
[chorus] I am a drunkard, drunkard drunakahdr

My best verses are composed, ironically,
when senses lay far away from me.
My verses are prophecies,
of the stones unturned;
of the things unheared;
and yet,
and yet!
I spoketh of the lands untouched.
of the trembles unfelt;
of the warmth never felt;
and the sand
of you and me;
the ashes of you and me
layeth beyond our reach.
Hence,
we must burn,
through this life to eternity.

An interesting chat

Sa-: I think iw ill need immodium
Vincent: do u have glue on ur desk?
Sa-: no
Sa-: y
Vincent: glue can be an alternative to immodium, dont u see the connection?
Sa-: nooo
Sa-: ewwwwwwwwwwwww
Sa-: ok I get it
Sa-: gross!
Vincent: why gross? Does ur glue says "for external use only"?

It has begun: the downward spiral. The days are growing pale while thoughts run and tremble without a focus. The days ahead are familiar from the prophecies. The days passing are an uncomfortable numbness. The mind ponders in the mist and the fog of overwhelming facts. It is like a drive in the rain with the wipers out; every try to see through the blurring shield, every adjustment and movement in the seat, is futile.
The cause of doom is revealed before the final fall. So, I undergo my final epiphanies, and now there is no turning back. The only thing I have not learned is not to hope. I hope therefore I suffer. This self-created cacoon is a false pretense. It was nothing to begin with, and it will be nothing soon.

Pomegranate

I just had a delicious, ice cold, salt sprinkled Pomegranate after a long long while. A Pomegranate can be hard to eat fruit, since it does require some rocket science to peal it off - peal, if that is the right word. It was RED and juicy. While I was eating it, the only thing on my mind was that soon i will eat all this, and then I will have no more left. It was like having a new life again, and knowing that it will end soon. Now I am nostalgic, and my taste buds are still emersed into the sweet-n-sourness of the fruit.
It was an amazing experience, that relived me from all my worries in life. While eating I also realized what I need the most in life. It is another person. I love Pomegranates.

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surreal life

What dreams may come, when a mind descends into mayhem and anarchy in the cover of sleep? I have not the answer but something to tell. I was stranded in a barren garden on a table under a tree. Alone, but happy, with a plate full of my favorite dishes that I have not tasted in almost four years. In my happiness I reiterated the hassle I went through to get my hands on it.
I was standing there and ordering it to my taste, and then, I remember, I ordered a taco instead. I gave the chef entire ingredients for a taco. I dont like tacos. I hate tacos. My source of joy, suddenly revolted against me, the reality swept, or crept in on me. I was on the same table but the food infront of me was not my favorite.
A frame changed; I may have turned in bed. I was so thirsty in the sleep that I woke up, and grabbed a glass from my bedside table. I drank till fill, so sweet and cold water. "But wait I am still thirsty", I thought. "Oh, so it was a dream", I realized. Giving into the thirst I woke up and found that there is no glass on the bedside table. "There is no bedside table". It was not even my room. It was not home, but this place that I am living in for a past few years. A feeling of grief crept in, "like a silent spring creeps in a barren garden", I whispered to that taco infront of me on that table in that barren garden.
"Just a dream", I thought. The sun was setting, I could see. "This sunlight makes it so hard to drive on this road". "I have not been on this road; wait I have to turn right". I turn the steering of the car but it slips. I brake, but invain. Its going backwards now, even though its in the first gear. "What the hell is happening??" I yell in panic.
I am glad I made it to school. What, I have a test today? I have this test on my table but I dont know why I am not solving it. Its irritating, but I am not solving it. Its almost dusk, but I am not solving it. I know I will fail it. It is that fucking taco, isnt it? No one has come to pick me up from school. Its been 15 minutes over. I should panic, thats what I always do, but I think I wont today. I feel I've grown up, so instead I start playing cricket with the other kids with a plastic bat. I have not finished the test, and the taco is still on the table. Did I make that right turn? Did my car stopped slipping backwards?
I am not sure I know.

This is a very informative web site I found out regarding Scientology. I insist that you visit it. Furthermore, this is a real video of Tom Cruise electricuting Oprah - who could have thought that it will come to this.

A veil in the night

A veil in the night, like a visage of the horizon, far and yet so certain; a distant vision of uniting scape, hides a white secret. The moon shines silver in the center of horizon. The secret is the moon. It shines a crescent to fill the night with nostalgic romance and then glows a full to deprive rest from the oceans' waters. The high untamed tides pounce on the shores, to silently descend back upon confrontation by the concrete sea walls. The guilt recedes back to thoughts, and in darkness another shadow vanishes. The moon sets in the wake of dawn; the star dust settles in the silence before the storm. The storm will blow away the veil, the reality of certainty will be revealed, and there will be a horizon where nothing will meet.

anger and faith

Today I have decided to write on a very critical issue governing the relationship between linguistics and the awards offered by various religons in the after life.
Abrasive, expressive and aggressive sentences are often uttered in rage. The beauty of raging anger is the sublimity of expression. The true expression of human nature is attained during the climaxing oral-vengence. The spontaneousness of such an expression is in perfect accord with the second law of thermodynamics or the law of entropy. Since the expression fulfills the natrual laws of physics, hence it is redeemed true.

The point hence, an anger stricken expression is often close to reality, and has all qualities of a traditional mythology.

An instance of example can be a person confessing the extra-marital relations with the opponent's mother. His claims are never verifiable even with the most advanced DNA searching techniques, but he still insists on the universalness of the truth. If we juxtapose the adultrous argument with the argument of an idol who is determined to beat the hell out of people, then the similarities between the two cases are often mindboggling. There exists no scientific evidence for each case.

The relationship of anger and faith is a cascading hegamony revealing itself on close examination. Consider the following two true (true, as already proved) sentences yelled in heart pounding anger:

1) I'll beat the hell out of ya.
2) I'll beat the shit out of ya.

The lexical structure of the sentences is similar, except for "hell" and "shit". The perfect equivalence in the sentences, other than the exceptions, lead to the derivation of a strange conclusion based on the mathematical principle of A = B. These sentences of rage are a foreshadow to a discovery that we will be reading in the next few lines.
The "shit" mathematically equals "hell" (from 1 and 2). Now this reference is not metaphoricalat all, and proves that hell is indeed feces. So, if your neighborhood priest tells you about hell, the various details of that pestilent place, do not listen to him. Instead go upto the podium and yell it out that hell will be a semi-solid stinking matter of excretion.

Whose excretion, is left onto you to guess.