Hammer and Mirror
scream
for has the world ever seen
a being
so maliciously obscene
as which this mirror upholds
before my face?
dream
of a time when I was clean
for a time to come again
for a place where the greeting
would not be a constant grimace
The shadows upon my face
have long since become
the color of my skin.
the horns
have taken root,
yet they are as yet construed.
I still have hope
redemption is not far
and I have not reached that point yet
where my dispair is absolute
Hammer and Gun
scream
for the has been
and for the yet to be revealed.
dream
for tomorrows unseen
for the revelation to be learned
when the light hits you
and your face gets burned.
reel
for you will when you know
so you might as well go
off the deep end now.
why prolong it?
why let it wait?
it beckons
its grin and its slanted eyes
gleaming.
so stop screaming
and rush forward
you aren’t dreaming
just push onward
it’s yours
take it.
it's good for you.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
Guilt trip
Things you did.
skeletons in your closet coming out for an airing
grinning in the midnight air
spilling out their bones and dry dead hair
rotten bits of flesh
cling to torn sinews, and the putrid smells
of the decomposition of life,
pleading
for a burial and a funeral to secrets and strife.
skeletons in your closet coming out for an airing
grinning in the midnight air
spilling out their bones and dry dead hair
rotten bits of flesh
cling to torn sinews, and the putrid smells
of the decomposition of life,
pleading
for a burial and a funeral to secrets and strife.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Trapped
Trapped in a cold bog with nothing to do but sob
Into a heart-throb I wished to turn but it stopped
And it burns to know that
I hurt you and turned you into what you are today
Its pain but I wait until that day when we can be happy together again
That day when the sun may shine in the sky
And roses will twinkle inside a snow storm of wine
The pain and the pleasure will mix and collide
The screams that we let out into the cold dark world
The feelings that went begging for a care or a second look
The times that we thought of taking our own lives
But we lied to ourselves and our thoughts were left behind
The sentient reaches of our minds
Blinded in their haste to get behind
Got behind a sheen of nonsensicality
To hide behind chaos
To conceal from our own selves
The redness of the sores inflicted
The bruises, if we could only see them to cure them
But they are nowhere to be found
Although we know they are there
They are hurting and we turn numb to the pain
Like riders in a desert stop believing in the rain
And like shadows in permanent dark losing hope of the sun
You and I eventually will stop believing in love
Into a heart-throb I wished to turn but it stopped
And it burns to know that
I hurt you and turned you into what you are today
Its pain but I wait until that day when we can be happy together again
That day when the sun may shine in the sky
And roses will twinkle inside a snow storm of wine
The pain and the pleasure will mix and collide
The screams that we let out into the cold dark world
The feelings that went begging for a care or a second look
The times that we thought of taking our own lives
But we lied to ourselves and our thoughts were left behind
The sentient reaches of our minds
Blinded in their haste to get behind
Got behind a sheen of nonsensicality
To hide behind chaos
To conceal from our own selves
The redness of the sores inflicted
The bruises, if we could only see them to cure them
But they are nowhere to be found
Although we know they are there
They are hurting and we turn numb to the pain
Like riders in a desert stop believing in the rain
And like shadows in permanent dark losing hope of the sun
You and I eventually will stop believing in love
that time of the year
Shits been getting to me lately and i am having to find the power to squeeze to bring it all out. It is like i've become a compartment for negativity. A sponge. I just absorb it and it disappears into the internal reaches of my being. Who knows what happens to it men. all i know is that my outlook changes and motivation levels are sinking, bloody end of the year. everything has such a climatic cumulative feel to it. like the air is rushing past your ears and your engine's increasing it's roar as the gears shift down and you prepare to screech to a halt on the 31st to take a break and start off all over again.
So morbidly depressing, like machines you say? hell man. This has gotta break free some time. "Very motivated individual biding time to break free from reality and embrace the dreams that have consumed him since childhood". Do you think that'll look good on my CV? nah, didn't think so either.
You know i am beginning to think there is some psychological sense to having a new year resolution. It doesn't justify it, but i am beginning to see why such a phenomenon came to exist. We are all organized from a very micro level to the macro-est level around the 'calendar year'. Jobs, education, companies, schools, birthdays, marriages, childbirths, governments etc etc. It doesn't mean anything though does it? time is continuous after all. yet we've all categorized it into years. and a year is such a neat little pocket to keep it all in isn't it? so we're all about 'woah this year i'll do this' and 'next year i'll do that' and 'in this year there is this significant event's but what we don't realize is that in reality, a year doesn't mean anything special at all. Its jut a pocket of time people, that's all.
But that doesn't change anything, our world is constructed around definitions of time. so we're pretty much forced to live accordingly unless we're in a Maltese beachfront rainforest surfing the waves day after day on a piece of wood shaved off a tree trunk in blissful ignorance of the world of compartmentalized time. Now maybe that's one way to free yourself of the obsessive influence of The System
Since the majority of us are not that lucky, or not that brave, we're all infected with this end of the year fever, because of the system we are living in. And yes its fun, but it's also effing confusing. and a part of me can't wait for the post hangover punch-in-the-stomach daylight surge of reality that January inevitably brings
So morbidly depressing, like machines you say? hell man. This has gotta break free some time. "Very motivated individual biding time to break free from reality and embrace the dreams that have consumed him since childhood". Do you think that'll look good on my CV? nah, didn't think so either.
You know i am beginning to think there is some psychological sense to having a new year resolution. It doesn't justify it, but i am beginning to see why such a phenomenon came to exist. We are all organized from a very micro level to the macro-est level around the 'calendar year'. Jobs, education, companies, schools, birthdays, marriages, childbirths, governments etc etc. It doesn't mean anything though does it? time is continuous after all. yet we've all categorized it into years. and a year is such a neat little pocket to keep it all in isn't it? so we're all about 'woah this year i'll do this' and 'next year i'll do that' and 'in this year there is this significant event's but what we don't realize is that in reality, a year doesn't mean anything special at all. Its jut a pocket of time people, that's all.
But that doesn't change anything, our world is constructed around definitions of time. so we're pretty much forced to live accordingly unless we're in a Maltese beachfront rainforest surfing the waves day after day on a piece of wood shaved off a tree trunk in blissful ignorance of the world of compartmentalized time. Now maybe that's one way to free yourself of the obsessive influence of The System
Since the majority of us are not that lucky, or not that brave, we're all infected with this end of the year fever, because of the system we are living in. And yes its fun, but it's also effing confusing. and a part of me can't wait for the post hangover punch-in-the-stomach daylight surge of reality that January inevitably brings
when i was five
she held my hand
she moved it down
she let it go
and held me there
as she knelt down
I caressed her hair
as she set to work
and i began to frown
with the efffort of
not breaking down.
then she finished
and i was happy.
now i'm grown up though
and i can tie my own.
she moved it down
she let it go
and held me there
as she knelt down
I caressed her hair
as she set to work
and i began to frown
with the efffort of
not breaking down.
then she finished
and i was happy.
now i'm grown up though
and i can tie my own.
Monday, December 22, 2008
solutions from machines
you're my luncheon
thats what I thought but then
you sprang a trap
and I was almost caught
within it's sharp pointed
metal gaps
you smiled like a baby
then you drew your claws
oh you're crazy
and I'm glad I'm not yours.
You almost trapped me
oh yes you almost got me
but the traps have come before
and I know a thing or two
about women now.
hahahaha!
Free!
thats what I thought but then
you sprang a trap
and I was almost caught
within it's sharp pointed
metal gaps
you smiled like a baby
then you drew your claws
oh you're crazy
and I'm glad I'm not yours.
You almost trapped me
oh yes you almost got me
but the traps have come before
and I know a thing or two
about women now.
hahahaha!
Free!
Friday, December 19, 2008
2008 - In retrospect
Celebration for the devil's deprivation
for the speeded aftermath of the hangover's painful lesson.
Lust for the dust the browbeaten and the hurt
inflicted, undertook, thrown away and cured.
Fire
for the pain the power the desire
the rewired ire the smoked sacrifice
of a dire life.
Solace
for the green fields of home
the stretch to the end
the truth becomes real in my eyes.
for the speeded aftermath of the hangover's painful lesson.
Lust for the dust the browbeaten and the hurt
inflicted, undertook, thrown away and cured.
Fire
for the pain the power the desire
the rewired ire the smoked sacrifice
of a dire life.
Solace
for the green fields of home
the stretch to the end
the truth becomes real in my eyes.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
The Killed
My mind's in a tailspin the torque has a hold
bringing me down into a depth tenfold
of where I was before and where I wanted to be
there is nothing that I know of in this knowledge less sea.
They killed me, and left my soul to be damned
they raged and they sped in the grips of an evil plan
they spat and they scratched me anyway they could
they wounded and broke, and I took it like I should.
Took it for the hopes that I shed and gave up on
took it for the dreams that I didn't quite believe in
took it for the demons I created in my mind
took it for the lies, that I told from time to time
I died for the bastard that I was to some people
I died for the hate that my actions bred
now I'm ripped through and through
and the last of my blood is shed,
the demons I created within me
can finally find their rest.
Inspired by The Kill by Unsilent Dawn.
bringing me down into a depth tenfold
of where I was before and where I wanted to be
there is nothing that I know of in this knowledge less sea.
They killed me, and left my soul to be damned
they raged and they sped in the grips of an evil plan
they spat and they scratched me anyway they could
they wounded and broke, and I took it like I should.
Took it for the hopes that I shed and gave up on
took it for the dreams that I didn't quite believe in
took it for the demons I created in my mind
took it for the lies, that I told from time to time
I died for the bastard that I was to some people
I died for the hate that my actions bred
now I'm ripped through and through
and the last of my blood is shed,
the demons I created within me
can finally find their rest.
Inspired by The Kill by Unsilent Dawn.
Tough Love
It’s all the rage upstairs these days I'm told. The war is 'coming to a close' and everyone is getting a bit cocky. And now we are within 'kissing distance' of Killinocchi. Nice. I’m kind of picturing Sarath Fonseka locking lips with Prabhakaran after a long drawn out battle through the dust and grime, through smoke and flying bullets etc. The poignant reunion of two estranged lovers. Slinky soundtrack plays and poof! There goes the ethnic conflict.
Meanwhile the Tigers seem to be showing us their purring affection by killing a claimed 170 SL Army troops. Funny thing though; we seem to have noticed only 25 of them gone. Maybe the rest haven't realized they're dead yet. Or maybe there's a problem with the paperwork. I mean, if the paper work says they aint dead, a simple thing like an actual dead body can't be allowed to show up and spoil it all yeah. Then again, they (the tigers) could be lying, and so could we. It starts getting a bit complicated when you start thinking along those lines.
On the subject of paperwork and petrol. Whooped for joy when I heard the cabinet was actually going to revise the petrol prices to 100 bucks and actually follow a Supreme Court order for a change and then deflated with a cigarette half an hour later when I found out that actually, they weren't.
The reason? Some complicated high end top secret national security concern? Not really, our government is not very competent in putting out vague generalizations with big words that make us go 'ah!' and shut up because we don't understand. No, at least they're straight forward. No photocopy was sent to the cabinet from the Supreme Court. A copy of the order to reduce petrol was not received by the cabinet. I mean the order that was put forward by the Supreme Court to reduce the price of petrol was not received in paper by the cabinet. the order the paper the petrol the cabinet the supreme court. And it all boiled down to an A4 sheet. I mean wtf?? Is it just me or does anyone else see anything completely absurd here that a finger cannot quite be put upon?
Maybe dunking my head in an ice cold bucket of water will clear things up. I suggest you do the same, cos pretty soon it's gonna get a bit hot in here me thinks.
Meanwhile the Tigers seem to be showing us their purring affection by killing a claimed 170 SL Army troops. Funny thing though; we seem to have noticed only 25 of them gone. Maybe the rest haven't realized they're dead yet. Or maybe there's a problem with the paperwork. I mean, if the paper work says they aint dead, a simple thing like an actual dead body can't be allowed to show up and spoil it all yeah. Then again, they (the tigers) could be lying, and so could we. It starts getting a bit complicated when you start thinking along those lines.
On the subject of paperwork and petrol. Whooped for joy when I heard the cabinet was actually going to revise the petrol prices to 100 bucks and actually follow a Supreme Court order for a change and then deflated with a cigarette half an hour later when I found out that actually, they weren't.
The reason? Some complicated high end top secret national security concern? Not really, our government is not very competent in putting out vague generalizations with big words that make us go 'ah!' and shut up because we don't understand. No, at least they're straight forward. No photocopy was sent to the cabinet from the Supreme Court. A copy of the order to reduce petrol was not received by the cabinet. I mean the order that was put forward by the Supreme Court to reduce the price of petrol was not received in paper by the cabinet. the order the paper the petrol the cabinet the supreme court. And it all boiled down to an A4 sheet. I mean wtf?? Is it just me or does anyone else see anything completely absurd here that a finger cannot quite be put upon?
Maybe dunking my head in an ice cold bucket of water will clear things up. I suggest you do the same, cos pretty soon it's gonna get a bit hot in here me thinks.
Monday, December 15, 2008
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So this is the non religion specific winter solstice holiday...
And this year I..
Got tagged by Noorie and Lady Divine to write this
Started a blog. Actually started this blog last year but really started 'writing shit down' after my mid year exams.
Met people from the blogodrome and made some good friends.
Had a complicated love life.
Started a company.
Moved houses.
Kept smoking.
Didnt make any resolutions and dont plan to next year either..
Read a shitload of books and watched a shitload of movies.
Think I am a changed person from who I was last year, but hell, I keep changing everyday, so thats a constant.
Am still trying to figure out how to beat the system and still reap its benefits.
Yess! thank you and I hereby tag My Prerogative, Realskullzero, Middle Child, Meg, Indi and for the heck of it, Mahinda Rajapakse.
Got tagged by Noorie and Lady Divine to write this
Started a blog. Actually started this blog last year but really started 'writing shit down' after my mid year exams.
Met people from the blogodrome and made some good friends.
Had a complicated love life.
Started a company.
Moved houses.
Kept smoking.
Didnt make any resolutions and dont plan to next year either..
Read a shitload of books and watched a shitload of movies.
Think I am a changed person from who I was last year, but hell, I keep changing everyday, so thats a constant.
Am still trying to figure out how to beat the system and still reap its benefits.
Yess! thank you and I hereby tag My Prerogative, Realskullzero, Middle Child, Meg, Indi and for the heck of it, Mahinda Rajapakse.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Dear Santa
The Russians and the Canadians are after the oil
And the Americans and Scandinavians are not far behind
The land beneath you is breaking up
And pretty soon the North Pole is going to suck
They say Obama does not believe in you
That Putin really doesn't give a damn too
The credit crunch has increased your costs
and Lehman collapsed and your reserves were lost
They say Rudolf is dissatisfied with your existing culture
And the elves are forming a strike in manufacture
Your operation is riddled with ancient management structures
And your beard is losing its much loved luster
You're wife is pissed 'cos the North Pole's melting
It was minus 40 C there but now it's scorching
All your people are in a terrible bother
and the Polar Bears are now eating each other
You're stuck in a crisis and your sledge won't start
'Cos you can't find anyone who makes it's outdated parts
You can't get a car, and I know why
There's no way on Earth you can make a Hyundai fly
Al Gore won't help you with the Global Warming
He just got his Oscar, and now he's resting
Where firm ground stood, there is now a puddle
And your whole operation is hitting a muddle
Kid's today are doubtful and are losing trust
They'd rather get their toys from the shelf at Wal-mart
And as for the rest of them without money to eat
Well, you never cared much about mouths to feed
Face it Santa your going out of fashion
Faster than you can say 'Glacier-like obstruction'
You need to find a new base and a leaner operation
Face it, or you'll soon be a dead personification
Maybe get FedEx to do your distribution
Fire your elves and make the toys in China
Have a customer service hotline all year round
(I know an excellent call centre that will help you out)
Call me fast and i'll set you up
Somewhere in Western Asia for a very small fee
We shall work together and with my consultancy
A force to be reckoned with, you will once again be.
Regards,
The WhacksteR
Change Consultant
(Specialist: Anthropomorphic Personifications)
And the Americans and Scandinavians are not far behind
The land beneath you is breaking up
And pretty soon the North Pole is going to suck
They say Obama does not believe in you
That Putin really doesn't give a damn too
The credit crunch has increased your costs
and Lehman collapsed and your reserves were lost
They say Rudolf is dissatisfied with your existing culture
And the elves are forming a strike in manufacture
Your operation is riddled with ancient management structures
And your beard is losing its much loved luster
You're wife is pissed 'cos the North Pole's melting
It was minus 40 C there but now it's scorching
All your people are in a terrible bother
and the Polar Bears are now eating each other
You're stuck in a crisis and your sledge won't start
'Cos you can't find anyone who makes it's outdated parts
You can't get a car, and I know why
There's no way on Earth you can make a Hyundai fly
Al Gore won't help you with the Global Warming
He just got his Oscar, and now he's resting
Where firm ground stood, there is now a puddle
And your whole operation is hitting a muddle
Kid's today are doubtful and are losing trust
They'd rather get their toys from the shelf at Wal-mart
And as for the rest of them without money to eat
Well, you never cared much about mouths to feed
Face it Santa your going out of fashion
Faster than you can say 'Glacier-like obstruction'
You need to find a new base and a leaner operation
Face it, or you'll soon be a dead personification
Maybe get FedEx to do your distribution
Fire your elves and make the toys in China
Have a customer service hotline all year round
(I know an excellent call centre that will help you out)
Call me fast and i'll set you up
Somewhere in Western Asia for a very small fee
We shall work together and with my consultancy
A force to be reckoned with, you will once again be.
Regards,
The WhacksteR
Change Consultant
(Specialist: Anthropomorphic Personifications)
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Snowball Lives!
Long overdue post exam post. That sounds catchy no, post exam post? No? ah well. attempts at humour tend to dry up when you've just gone through a few days of intense brain work i suppose.
No peace for me after that though. Headed directly into working on my degree assignments. Woe is me. What i can't stand is people letting their emotions get in the way of work man! I mean you've got relationships for these things. And if you've got a relationship thats getting harder to go through there's no reason to take it out on innocent bystanders who are not going to hit you back.
Just cos you're tolerant enough is no reason to keep taking shit. And then you dont go and judge the person who refused to take shit for not being willing to take it and call them religious elitists and be all judgementally prudish on them. Anyone who does that, and i am not saying anyone does, has double standards and is potentially qualified to recieve a KKK honorary membership.
All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others - Orwell, yes yes i got an accelerated dose of Animal Farm last night. Brilliant piece of work. Read it through in a matter of hours. I know im kinda late to start reading Orwell, him being the revolutionary he is (or was) and all but hey, better late than never. My next target is 1984 since i've heard so much about it.
Finished another one called Catch 22. Now thats a definite read for anyone man. Based in World War 2 Italy. Funny as hell and extremely insightul. You've got a hero called Yossarian who's goal is to stay as far away from actual heroics as he possibly can, you've got Nately, Nately's whore, Nately's whore's kid sister, Hungry Joe (who sleeps with Dobbs' cat on his face and screams in his sleep all night long), Yossarian's room mate Orr, his obsession with very small mechanical parts and a host of other crazy out-of-this-world shit that makes some wierd kinda sense when put together.
Other reads lately include Stephen Hawkwing's Theory of Everything which i'm just digging into and Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea which i've not touched yet.
Got heaps more lying around.
No peace for me after that though. Headed directly into working on my degree assignments. Woe is me. What i can't stand is people letting their emotions get in the way of work man! I mean you've got relationships for these things. And if you've got a relationship thats getting harder to go through there's no reason to take it out on innocent bystanders who are not going to hit you back.
Just cos you're tolerant enough is no reason to keep taking shit. And then you dont go and judge the person who refused to take shit for not being willing to take it and call them religious elitists and be all judgementally prudish on them. Anyone who does that, and i am not saying anyone does, has double standards and is potentially qualified to recieve a KKK honorary membership.
All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others - Orwell, yes yes i got an accelerated dose of Animal Farm last night. Brilliant piece of work. Read it through in a matter of hours. I know im kinda late to start reading Orwell, him being the revolutionary he is (or was) and all but hey, better late than never. My next target is 1984 since i've heard so much about it.
Finished another one called Catch 22. Now thats a definite read for anyone man. Based in World War 2 Italy. Funny as hell and extremely insightul. You've got a hero called Yossarian who's goal is to stay as far away from actual heroics as he possibly can, you've got Nately, Nately's whore, Nately's whore's kid sister, Hungry Joe (who sleeps with Dobbs' cat on his face and screams in his sleep all night long), Yossarian's room mate Orr, his obsession with very small mechanical parts and a host of other crazy out-of-this-world shit that makes some wierd kinda sense when put together.
Other reads lately include Stephen Hawkwing's Theory of Everything which i'm just digging into and Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea which i've not touched yet.
Got heaps more lying around.
and then they went pfffttt...
Hey what the fuck is this??
I dont know man! its a fucking bomb!
How can you tell if you dont know??
Well exactly! Its a bomb cos i dont know what it is!
Hoy shit. You're probably right. Lets open it up.
I dont know man! its a fucking bomb!
How can you tell if you dont know??
Well exactly! Its a bomb cos i dont know what it is!
Hoy shit. You're probably right. Lets open it up.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
A chewing gum romance
She picked me up
She took me whole
She chewed me
Bathing me in her
Gloriously warm spittle,
Cuddling me under
The soft folds of her tongue
And admonishing me
With her sharp white teeth.
Then she spat me out.
She took me whole
She chewed me
Bathing me in her
Gloriously warm spittle,
Cuddling me under
The soft folds of her tongue
And admonishing me
With her sharp white teeth.
Then she spat me out.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Where have all the terrorists gone?
Ok now here’s a question for all you people out there who think Prabahakaran’s a terrorist. Does he not wank at night before goes to sleep? If you prick him does he not bleed? If you stole his lunch and beat him up, would he not cry? Is he but a man like you and me? Or is he really a woman inside like Boy George or Mervin Silva? Or is he, like many believe him to be, the illegitimate, discarded son of the devil himself? Illegitimate because the devil in a drunken stupor landed in Jaffna thinking it was LA and did it with a bush lizard of some type thinking it was Celine Dion or Donald Trump? And even though you might say all the devil’s children, like George Bush, are illegitimate since after all the devil leads by example, discarded because a bush lizard is still a bush lizard and even the devil has his standards?
Yes, yes it is very brave of me to sit safe in my room in an undisclosed location in the greater Colombo area and smugly type away vicious insults to the grand old boy of Sri Lankan terrorism I know. But that’s okay, I am not asking for any medals, just doing my civic duty as a roadblock loving Sri Lankan citizen who would think nothing of sacrificing about 15 minutes of the first part of his crucial CIM exams so that some power loving money hungry white shirt wearing deranged komodo dragon of a politician can wait for his wife to leave (through a different route, eliciting the services of other patriots and honourable citizens such as I) so that he can get his servant to suck him off in the kitchen and still get his nice round ass to parliament for the next power hungry bastard with something to gain to kiss in 15 minutes flat. Oh yes, I am all for efficient governance.
While retracting my rather tasteless comments about the devil and his dirty deeds above, for after all a lady is still a lady even though she may have been unfortunate enough to have a son like Prabhakaran, I am forced to ask, who is the real terrorist here?
One, gets people to die for him without even meeting them in the name of an ancient cause that frankly no one even knows anything about anymore. The other, revels in the war effort and uses it to consolidate his power by scaring the people making them bend over double and give him all their money. Probably half of which he uses to buy weapons netting a handy commission out of the whole deal. Some might call it a lost cause. But no one really knows anymore.
It’s like when Mr Perera snapped at Mrs Soyza’s dog and Mrs Soyza called Mrs Perera a drunken whorebag because Mr. Soyza who drinks every night, can’t resist looking over the wall to get a peek at Mrs. Perera’s extra large green cotton panties hanging on the washing line. And so begins a long drawn out battle between the Pererá’s and Soyza’s and including, among it’s many casualties, a cut down thambili tree for daring to drop its produce on the wrong side of the parapet wall, a surprised bas unnahey who chose the wrong side of the border to keep his foot on during some construction, a harangued local police officer sick and tired of dealing with petty complaints and who ultimately suffered a stroke, and even more harassed looking neighbours unable to sleep due to noisy arguments from both sides all through the night, and who went out and didn’t contribute positively to the workforce and spread the insomnia throughout their acquaintances and throughout over ever widening circles causing car accidents, bus accidents, moral degeneracy and a serious economic down turn preceded by a financial crisis in the US where the Perera’s stressed and vacation deprived son was working at Bear Sterns as an investment banker looking for a new high return, risk insurable investment opportunity.
Ultimately, the Soyza’s dog died from a heart attack and Mrs. Perera stopped wearing extra large green cotton panties due to having lost so much weight by fighting all day and through having developed an allergy to cotton that brought her out in itches and boils that her doctor said was due to stress and from not being able to stand the colour green anymore because it gave her traumatic nightmares about how it all started. And Mr. Soyza stopped drinking after a bout of extreme depression when Mrs Perera stopped wearing extra large green cotton panties and stayed sober in order to better focus on the fight at hand and trounce the opponent even though he hadn’t the faintest what it was all about, having been drinking at the time it all started. And Mrs Soyza wouldn’t stop fighting till Mr Perera stopped and Mr. Perera didn’t see why he should stop until Mrs. Soyza backed off and apologized despite the pleadings of the harangued police officer and his insistence that there was nothing left to fight over anymore.
And so they bred the same hate and ignorance within all their children who in turn proudly presented it to their children as a part of the great heritage of their respective families and the Perera’s and the Soyza’s continue to fight to this day and no one really remembers or cares that it all started over a long dead dog and a pair of extra large green cotton panties.
So who’s the real terrorist here I ask you again. If you were to ask me, I would say neither. There are no terrorists here at all, only angry people with weapons (and a possibly inherited fetish for alcohol and extra large green cotton panties), who have forgotten why they got angry in the first place.
And as for terrorism itself, well we are all unknowingly embroiled in it. It is an aura surrounding us that we can't shake off.
Disclaimer -The selection of these two esteemed Sri Lankan last names was purely random, and may have been triggered by the memory of two families in my former neighborhood that were constantly at loggerheads with each other. No offense meant to any individual bearing the names of Soyza or Perera, nor to anyone fond of green cotton undergarments of any size, and i sincerely hope no offense was taken!
Yes, yes it is very brave of me to sit safe in my room in an undisclosed location in the greater Colombo area and smugly type away vicious insults to the grand old boy of Sri Lankan terrorism I know. But that’s okay, I am not asking for any medals, just doing my civic duty as a roadblock loving Sri Lankan citizen who would think nothing of sacrificing about 15 minutes of the first part of his crucial CIM exams so that some power loving money hungry white shirt wearing deranged komodo dragon of a politician can wait for his wife to leave (through a different route, eliciting the services of other patriots and honourable citizens such as I) so that he can get his servant to suck him off in the kitchen and still get his nice round ass to parliament for the next power hungry bastard with something to gain to kiss in 15 minutes flat. Oh yes, I am all for efficient governance.
While retracting my rather tasteless comments about the devil and his dirty deeds above, for after all a lady is still a lady even though she may have been unfortunate enough to have a son like Prabhakaran, I am forced to ask, who is the real terrorist here?
One, gets people to die for him without even meeting them in the name of an ancient cause that frankly no one even knows anything about anymore. The other, revels in the war effort and uses it to consolidate his power by scaring the people making them bend over double and give him all their money. Probably half of which he uses to buy weapons netting a handy commission out of the whole deal. Some might call it a lost cause. But no one really knows anymore.
It’s like when Mr Perera snapped at Mrs Soyza’s dog and Mrs Soyza called Mrs Perera a drunken whorebag because Mr. Soyza who drinks every night, can’t resist looking over the wall to get a peek at Mrs. Perera’s extra large green cotton panties hanging on the washing line. And so begins a long drawn out battle between the Pererá’s and Soyza’s and including, among it’s many casualties, a cut down thambili tree for daring to drop its produce on the wrong side of the parapet wall, a surprised bas unnahey who chose the wrong side of the border to keep his foot on during some construction, a harangued local police officer sick and tired of dealing with petty complaints and who ultimately suffered a stroke, and even more harassed looking neighbours unable to sleep due to noisy arguments from both sides all through the night, and who went out and didn’t contribute positively to the workforce and spread the insomnia throughout their acquaintances and throughout over ever widening circles causing car accidents, bus accidents, moral degeneracy and a serious economic down turn preceded by a financial crisis in the US where the Perera’s stressed and vacation deprived son was working at Bear Sterns as an investment banker looking for a new high return, risk insurable investment opportunity.
Ultimately, the Soyza’s dog died from a heart attack and Mrs. Perera stopped wearing extra large green cotton panties due to having lost so much weight by fighting all day and through having developed an allergy to cotton that brought her out in itches and boils that her doctor said was due to stress and from not being able to stand the colour green anymore because it gave her traumatic nightmares about how it all started. And Mr. Soyza stopped drinking after a bout of extreme depression when Mrs Perera stopped wearing extra large green cotton panties and stayed sober in order to better focus on the fight at hand and trounce the opponent even though he hadn’t the faintest what it was all about, having been drinking at the time it all started. And Mrs Soyza wouldn’t stop fighting till Mr Perera stopped and Mr. Perera didn’t see why he should stop until Mrs. Soyza backed off and apologized despite the pleadings of the harangued police officer and his insistence that there was nothing left to fight over anymore.
And so they bred the same hate and ignorance within all their children who in turn proudly presented it to their children as a part of the great heritage of their respective families and the Perera’s and the Soyza’s continue to fight to this day and no one really remembers or cares that it all started over a long dead dog and a pair of extra large green cotton panties.
So who’s the real terrorist here I ask you again. If you were to ask me, I would say neither. There are no terrorists here at all, only angry people with weapons (and a possibly inherited fetish for alcohol and extra large green cotton panties), who have forgotten why they got angry in the first place.
And as for terrorism itself, well we are all unknowingly embroiled in it. It is an aura surrounding us that we can't shake off.
Disclaimer -The selection of these two esteemed Sri Lankan last names was purely random, and may have been triggered by the memory of two families in my former neighborhood that were constantly at loggerheads with each other. No offense meant to any individual bearing the names of Soyza or Perera, nor to anyone fond of green cotton undergarments of any size, and i sincerely hope no offense was taken!
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