See You on the Other Side of Time.

What is your biggest fear? Not the trivial ones. What is that you just cannot handle? People whom I have come to know, all have certain fears. Some fear abandonment. Others fear death. Some fear failure. And then there are some who fear ignorance. I even know some who claim that there is nothing that they fear, which is great I think. I really want to be that kind of a person...someone who does not fear anything. But then I think that somewhere they have a fear too. There always is something which we cannot tolerate; something which we cannot afford to handle. Maybe I am wrong. I hope I am wrong. I still like to believe that that stage can be attained. A stage where you outdo yourself for your sake and for no one else's. 

Change will always come and go. People change. You change. Your ideologies change. And if they don't then you're a sad-sad being. And then another reason for change is the fact that people leave. Sometimes, people leave because they've changed. They need or want change. I have my stream of consciousness mode on these days so I do think a lot about what I really want and what I fear the most. And I realized that being alone is not what I am scared of, as I thought so till now. In fact, I want to live alone for a good three-four years. I really want that for myself. However, there are certain people that I really love a lot. And I would give anything to have the time spent with them back. They are the people who have had an impact so strong that it is difficult to attain closure. And then you wait. You wait in the hope that someday you will be able to relive the good memories and not worry of the sour taste that follows. At least I do. 

It is funny how I feel torn when people I am close to leave but at the same time I keep repeating that I need to leave this place. I mean I am sure there are people who would miss me if I did that. At least I like to think so. Though in all honesty, people get used to others not being around. I am used to do that too. And I will get accustomed to two of my beloved people not being here. But that doesn't mean that I will not miss them. I miss them already. 

We all lose certain important people in our life. We lose them and we move on. We meet new people and they become important to us. I am not very sure if they replace the other people. And sometimes the new people lose their charm too. And you lose them eventually. So this constant tension between getting close to people and then losing them, or they going away, gets a little difficult. I am not very good with handling separation and I admit it. Though I am trying to work on that.
I usually like to make myself feel better that I am not the only one going through emotional stress of separation. There are people I know who have it a lot worse. But right now, I don't want to think like that. Sometimes I ask myself as to why do I let them in. They eventually leave. I know I have left some people too. But that was never difficult.. for neither of us. In true reality, I have never left anyone alone. If I walked away, there was someone ready to provide closure to them. 

These "important" people tell me to visit them when they're gone. I just hope that they find a way back. And if they don't then I hope I can move ahead. I have a lot of "whys" in my head but I guess I will leave that out. I wanted to vent out. Wanted to write about this humongous wave of inner conflict and chaos. 

I think it is time to close certain chapters of life and keep the book in the deepest corner of the old-dusty shelf, for no good can be attained in trying to find answers to the numerous "whys". My friend told me that she blindly believes in the fact that ignorance is bliss. I just hope she realizes that there is a very fine line between ignorance and negligence, but it does exist. 

For all that matters to me right now is to spend these ten odd months at home, trying to figure out what I have become, discover new music, discover new habits and most importantly, build a future where I don't have to face separation every time things are going fine. Because for now, even I cannot make sense of it. Karma doesn't add up very well for now. I know I am a good person and I wish these two asses who are leaving the best in life. Because I don't know if I will ever see them again. If I would ever like to see them again. When my brother left, I was really alone. I refuse to let that happen again. And so, Grooveshark is my new best friend and writing the other.
I am actually keeping a journal these days. It has a lot of cool stuff... lines from favourite authors, poets and songs. Bucket lists. Love letters. Poetry. And simple words. I am trying to open up with myself. I even note down new music discoveries in that. The best part is that I don't have feel vulnerable if someone reads it. There is no one who would read it.

***

Now Playing: Poorest King | Ten Shekel Shirt

***

This American band is my latest station. Their songs are simple, relatable and most importantly,nostalgic. 

I really like American alternative rock bands from local neighborhoods. Do click on the link on the band's name and give it a listen. They're quite good. Until next time, read great books and listen to great music, and keep sane. 

-x-

The Chase

She often quoted Shakespeare for me, to me. After we would be done with the usual chores of the night, she would often whisper lines, which sounded so sweet that I couldn't resist kissing her, but I never really understood them. I did not possess the patience to take even a graphic novel, let alone a full fledged novel or a play to read! I was not that kind of a man. I still am not. But she read. She read a lot. And she listened to a lot of music. I worked. And I worked a lot. Sometimes I would find her on the couch, her reading glasses calmly sitting on her nose, a fat book in one hand, and a cup of tea in the other. Only rarely did that cup of tea was replaced by white wine or a vodka-martini. She had a lot of taste. Whatever objects our house had which gave it a little more meaning were from her. But she spent too much time reading. It was as if she was still looking for someone in me; someone who would be as good looking and as compassionate than some of her fictional heroes. But I was not. I am not. She never let it come between us though. Her book shelf and her music shelf were always her world. I respected that because she respected my world. Though I always felt incomplete in her eyes.

My world had what she called "obscenely materialistic" things. Beer. Work. Money. Little bit of sports. Sex. And some old whiskey. I did not have the time to catch up on the latest bands, or follow what my favorite movie actor was wearing to the premier. I didn't care. I don't care. The only reading I did was the newspaper every morning. That was pretty much I could handle. She always chuckled when I said that. Her laugh was beautiful. It gave her a halo. The thing we had in common was the love for cigarettes. That was perhaps the only thing I beat her at. She smoked ten a day. I smoked fifteen. She was always filled with amazing words. One day she told me how she was aware that I think a lot. That I dream a lot. That I should perhaps just let it loose. And let her in. I never knew any words. So I could never really tell her that she was always there. I know that all of us go through disappointments. You wake up one morning and you feel disappointed. But what really scared me was the thought that what if You were the disappointment! She always smiled at me. She always was kind to me. Even when she would be searching for a Mr. Darcy in me, she would always find a Jimmy Porter. She told me this, by the way. I still don't know these two men. I don't want to know. I don't want to be her disappointment. The only thing I could provide for her was perhaps a space- in my house, in my life, and in my thoughts.

"So then what happened?"

Then... one night she spoke softly, Perdition, catch my soul; but I do love thee. And when I love thee not, chaos is come again.
My eyes were not open. But I feared that chaos.

And when I woke up, she was still a part of my mind. She was still...just a part of my mind.

***

Slipped Into Your Skin | Patrick Watson 

Clandestine.

What were we a while ago?

Silly kids with magic wands in one hand,

And the dreams of what now seem the yesteryear,

In the other!

What were You a while ago?

You were a whiff of the smoke

Which touched my lips for the first time-

Promising to remain in the stains,

Never solid enough to contain.

What was I a while ago?

I really don't remember.

***

Now Playing: The Woods | Stars

You know what. I Love You. :-)

P.S: The picture is a quote from Bukowski. 

Infinity.

I wish language never changed, and meanings were not subjective. I wish there were only black or white, and the gray never existed (not even the possibility of it being made from the two colours). And I wish I could be strong enough to let go. 

If only there was a way of not wishing so much. And if only there were enough words to explain the infinite simplicity in all finite complexity. 

***

This picture. Because we all need to live our dream once. And also for the love of floating lanterns

Now Playing: Stay Out Of Trouble | Kings of Convenience

And now I am going to come back to write again only when I am motivated enough, which might not happen for some time. Lets spend some time trying to figure out how Change works. 

Peace. 

The Sicilian!

There was a smile at the end of each sentence he said. He had mischievous eyes, one of those which you cannot escape looking at. They spilled a lot of uninterrupted warmth. The contours on his forehead faded into a sense of isolated magnificence. You know...the one which doesn't tell you everything but tells you enough to be charmed by the other person? Like that. Precisely. When he laughed, his cheeks lifted, exposing his cheek bones. He wasn't very filled in the face you see. Just the right amount of flesh! The complexion was the usual...very rugged, very tanned, almost glistening- like gold! Black hair with a tinge of deep brown. His eyes- deep brown. I remember his hair was light- easy with the winds- always in its direction! When he walked into the room, nobody looked at him. They, of course, had much more important and interesting people by their side. I was alone- with a book in my hand. He walked in and greeted people he knew. He did not know me. He does not know me. He said a pleasant "Hello!" His voice emanated a fine blend of coldness and a pleasant articulation of what his eyes suggested. He knew he charmed another woman. I smiled back. "I am Darius." I continued smiling, and we shook hands. I told him my name.

We did not talk after that. I left the party. He must have left it too. I heard and saw him laugh with a couple of people we both knew. He had the most beautiful laughs I have ever heard on a man! As I was walking down the street, towards home, I could not stop recalling that vibrant and exclusive smile of Darius- the only Sicilian I ever had the chance to meet and make eye contact with.

***

Now Playing: Song For You by Alexi Murdoch
(because I think of him when I listen to this song)

He comes in my dreams sometimes. It is odd. I know nothing but his name and the place he belongs to. I never made effort to know more- for the fear that he might not be as charming as he is in my mind. I love people who smile often. They are more comforting, easy to be with. 
I thought I would write about it since he is one of the most good looking people I have seen. 
Also, listen to Alexi Murdoch, if you have not yet. Him, and Patrick Watson.  

Until next time, listen to great music and love yourself.