underground smoke and sheet

When you are a blunt guy living in a not so blunt world, you usually find it hard to see through the smoke. Or rather, you don't see the smoke at all. Social situations disintegrate under the unsubtle slash of the knife of direct statements that need to be buttered up, baked and served in a plate with blueberry pie instead.

Romantic options dwindle as you usually don't say what is 'expected' and skip the foreplay because you just know where your gonna end up anyway. Chicks are so shallow. Reminds me of russel crowe's little spat at the bar in 'a beautiful mind'. i can relate to the way he feels. does that make me a schizophrenic genius then? i dont know about the genius, but shizophrenia is not an unfamiliar sensation. lets hope the genius turns up soon. theres gotta be some upside to a chronic inability to get laid.

Casual conversations with new acquaintances turn into hurt and uncomfortable silences as you inadvertantly say something that was dancing around in your mind. So he stuttered, and so you just came out with it and made fun of him hey you was only jooking! no need for the uncomfortable silence and for people to walk away. Would've been much better for everyone to have a guffaw and put it behind, would even have made the stutterer more comfortable with the company in question. Like saying 'okay you chaps so i stutter, have a laugh and lets move on kids'. It builds relationships to have a quiet laugh about our differences now and then. hell if you were ever a schoolboy, you'd know this.

We know these things when we are kids, we are born with the knowledge. Adulthood just takes it all away. It instils this artificial smokescreen of properness that distorts everything honest and good and encourages all sorts of intricacies built up of 'white' lies and underground guerilla communication that is a downright pain in the rectum spectrum to behold.

Kids are honest, they are direct they are blunt. there is nothing wrong with that. Oh yeah you'll look at them with a sweet smile while your eyes bore into them and you grit your teeth and think 'geez wasn't this tiny pandithaya (know-it-all) ever properly slapped by his parents?' and imagine ways of teaching the bugger a lesson while all the while knowing that the only reason you got so worked up in the first place was cus the kid was right. Thats right, the five year old just told you how it was.

As we grow up, we learn a lot. Ooh now thats impressive isnt it? but we become dumbasses and complicate the single thing that we should never have forgotten, our first lesson in life, smoke free bluntness and openness. And you know whats worse? whats worse is we come to regard the very practice of it as crass and avoid it like the plague, or the swine flu.

Boy meets girl, boy eats girl

Girlfriends. There. I am coming to this elusive topic that has been causing me to stop, stare and hyperventilate every time i sit in front of my screen to write something. and i cant fucking handle this. when i cant write, my work suffers, and we all know how much one should care about one's girls work.

I haven't had any sex in months, I mean im not a exactly a bed hopping charged battery-bull but you know, i like the occasional roll in the grass or more like the pavement you know. But you can't even get laid in this land without undergoing torturous psychological trauma where the girl will give you no end of hell accusing you of knocking her up and jumping the gun.

I am sorry, i may be offending a lot of ladies here but to my credit, i really don't care. I almost suspected myself of turning into a homosexual for goodness sakes! i have been for so long removed from womankind by choice that there are points of time when i am seriously concerned about the true nature of my sexuality, this is a serious, serious problem.

This all started ages ago, along with my first experiences with women. I have always been careful not to be too sexually involved with a woman that im emotionally involved with and my list of encounters of the close kind have mostly been with causal flings. But then again this is not a very telling point seeing as i've only really been emotionally involved with about 3 women (and only two of them anything close to serious). But the thing is, sexual experiences in my book feel nothing as good as when there is a bit of emotion involved.

Casual flings are great. but there is a reason they are casual and pretty soon you get bored and move along yeah? and the more time you spend in casual flings the more you tend to start wanting something more real and more exciting and then poof! before you know it, you are treading the Menstrual Swamps, with bitch fits, hissy fits (apologies to DQ whom i met over the weekend and whom i thought was very nice), underground arguments waiting to grab you by your feet and drag you under, and the occasional extremely dangerous surprise landmine that will explode the moment you keep your foot in the wrong place.

It takes a long time to navigate out of the Swamp, and its a tough, tough process. There will be many vines that grab you. Many zombified 'other people' who will involve themselves and perform slave rituals in trance like dreams to make your life even more of a living hell than it already is. The swamp itself will play mind games on you, it will make you believe that you don't really want to leave! it will try and convince you that it is in reality a paradise, and it will actually show you a some wonderful times to prove it. But these wonderful times will soon be few and far between and one must know to get out whilst one still can. One must be strong and determined. And immune to the temptations of the flesh.

Such drama and torture is not worth the sex on tap that is probably the sole benefit of the whole operation. Oh of course there is love and understanding and caring and all that, but that's nothing a guy can't mostly do without, cos it all comes at such a great price see? And like i said, sex in a relationship is different from just plain old sex. No, to me its more intense, more thrilling, much more of an experience than just a wham bam thank you m' am at Big John, Dehiwala. Sex with emotion is truly ecstatic. And the other kind simply pales in comparison.

So what do we do then? this is quite the perplexing conundrum (not the blog). Here i lie frustrated the fuck out, wanting to get laid but pooh-pooh-ing at a casual fling, checking out boys and wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, examining this post and wondering why the fuck i've written the word 'fuck' so many times. Trying my best to stay the hell away from emotional involvement with women and not finding it all that hard either because i'v become jaded and cynical and most of the women i know don't make me feel like i should be in a relationship with them anyway.

Yes, the world is boring and nothing presents me a challenge worth taking.

Change man, change is what i need.

Obama! is this the thanks i get for telling my best friend in Maryland to vote for you? So what if he was not a citizen and couldn't actually vote? and so what if i didn't actually tell him anything in the first place? %%$^#$!

Playah playah (we're all disillusioned about our looks)

What is with a persons looks that drives you up the wall man? We are all so concerned about the way we LOOK. i mean the way we look? wasn’t there anything else remotely important enough that we could have imagined to be so concerned about? like intelligence for example?

I was just going through the pictures in my office camera trying to find some pics i took of an outlet in the morning right. And when i get my hands on a public camera i rarely pass up the chance to look at all the pics everyone else has taken. i mean its a public camera right? you wouldn’t leave anything on there undeleted if it was private so what the hell. (a similar principle dictates that the best porn in net cafes are found in the PCs and not on the actual internet itself)

Anyways this chap at work who used it last, you know how people get when they have a camera and nothing to do but point and shoot at yourself right? so this chap is all gangsta poses and weird hand signals that apparently have 'meanings beyond comprehension of normal man', and every single picture of him, with anyone else or no had some sort of weirdly contorted hand signal and trying-hard-to-look-bad pose in it.

Now I’m not playa hating or trying to put tha man down, im only saying this cos thats what triggered this weird thought train in the first place, not that i haven’t thought about it before, but now i just felt like writing about it see.

It is a commonly known fact that when they look in the mirror, guys see something in addition to what’s really there and women see something less. That’s why no matter how beautiful she may be, if you complement a girl on her looks she'd blush and get all coy and surprised and you'll be wondering like; er.. what’s wrong with this one? doesn't she own a mirror?

If you complement a guy though, no matter how disproportionately challenged in the aesthetic department he may be, he'll just shrug it off and give a gruff thank you cos he knows see? its all just long overdue hero worship, finally SOMEONE has seen what he's been seeing all along! and it doesn’t surprise him either, cos the rest of em are too awed by his presence to actually venture a complement.

A guy will try out all sorts of poses in the bathroom mirror. He'll practice looking skeptical, he'll practice the i-know-what-you're-upto-but-im-gonna-leave-you-in-suspense-about-it look. he'll try out the gansta pose, the i-know-you're-checking-me-out-but-im-too-cool-to-look-your-way one (which is mostly constructed around an illusionary scenario generously created by his ego) he'll try and figure out what pose goes with what collection of clothes oh yeah baby he'll be ALL THAT man all that!

A girl on the other hand will fuss about with her make-up and take her time delicately rubbing cream and suchlike and wearing her clothes in gentle sweeps and will step out looking like a delicate little flower and look the bomb and be totally unaware of it. Yeah right? yeah i know, yeah right! She'll be aware of it, in a subconscious level, at least most of them will, but they won’t be sure about it. At least in most cases they won't. Some of them may feel insecure about it in a subconscious level but the bottom line is that they are more uncertain as a whole on the way they look

Such dangerous talk about women borders upon intellectual suicide for in my experience they are so volatile and unpredictable that they are akin to fresh dynamite on Guy Fawkes night, or Vesak take your pick. But i will carefully venture my hypothesis here.

A guy will walk in front of the mirror and even if he's the skinniest stick you ever saw, he'll puff his chest up and pull his stomach in and square his shoulders and leave the room thinking he is Arnold Schwarzenegger. Oh and he wont look at a reflection again unless he goes through the same routine, its like he changes reality for mental benefit, for he knows that afterall, life is a confidence game.

Ah what a delightfully complex creature we are! As for women, who knows what goes through their heads except possible schemes as to how to break that confidence and impose upon it some Khmer Rouge like autocratic dominance. Killing stray atoms of confidence like Pol Pot killed peasants.

How is this achieved? ah well that is another story altogether. More a story of voluntary slavery than anything else not to say that a decent defense is not put up in some cases. But i think i've already lost the thread of this one to a certain extent. So will stop

To be cool or not to be, Is that a question?

Ragamuffin maan ya! I’m just listening to this Apache Indian track called 'chok there'.It's alright. Now before this randomness takes over like the weeds have taken over half of Killinochchi I’ll try hard to get to the point.

What is Cool?

We are swamped down and bogged up with definitions of cool. Im walking to work today with my tattered gym bag on my shoulders right? and im thinking i need a new bag cos the one i have right now is ripped so much that the only thing holding it together is probably the dirt.

I was thinking of spending for an okayish Field bag, about 1.5k. A bit hardier than the regular stuff at Emperor (MC) so kind of worth the money. Then the back of my mind pipes up with the crazy notion of shelling out for an Adidas or a Nike instead. Subtle, black, 4k and as cool as a guy of my social standing can afford to get without pawning his left testicle. I dismissed the notion. After all, it's no point getting a bag like that and then going to just a regular gym right. People are gonna think you bought it off the World Market anyway.

But I am not averse to such extravagant purchases. There are some things that I feel the tendency to splash on. Shoes, some clothes maybe. Yes i am pretentious and part of the rest of society wanna-be bunch. Let's get that out of the way.

But Hwhy?

Reading through my last paragraph, my eye fell on this definitive statement; "People are gonna think you bought it off the world market anyway"

People are gonna think.

Hmmm.

I mean would I want that bag if every Somey, Siri and Ratnapala at the gym had a svelte Adidas of their own? Or would I wanna go even higher up the market in search of commercial offerings in the sports bag market that probably exist but which i am not aware of like maybe Versace Sport? I am just postulating here. But I think Nike will cut it anywhere, I’ve always had a preference for Adidas though.

But coolness does not only relate to 'stuff'. it relates very heavily also to attitudes, who we hang out with and where we live. But location of residence doesn't matter that much when you're young. It’s your school that matters when you’re young.

You're safe in the cool-o-meter if you went to a 'leading school in Colombo' or an 'International School'. You're coated in a mysterious aura, which is also uber-cool, if you've 'studied abroad' as well. If you're doing you're higher studies, it’s always cool to say that you're 'down for the summer' or 'taking a winter vacation'. Local higher education has it's own cool-o-metrics and whatnot, differing between the different institutes and courses, but I can't properly put my finger on it cos i am myself embroiled in it, and will probably be heavily biased to my own coolness if i tried :D

Its uncool to put a nose in a smiley, a fact which I found out from Jerry’s blog. when Fallen most kindly pointed it out to him.

My last post was apparently cynical yet aloof-ishly cool, according to Makuluwo. Thank you for that by the way, I was trying really hard. You’ll find out why in the para after next.

Cool is a phenomenon of society, it’s tied to what we aspire to and want to be. It often hits hard into secret places of our consciousness, taps into things that we won't even admit to our closest friends that we like, or want. You can probably tell a lot about a man if you knew what he exactly thought was 'cool'.

It’s also cool to be cynical. It’s cool to be aloof. To hold yourself above the massess. to be different. Hell it’s even cool to be a social outcast, but not in an un-cool way of course.

Cool-ness is a universal concept. And like all universal concepts, you can’t really explain what it means until you immerse yourself in it. And this post probably didn't teach you anything about it anyway either.

Today's post brought to you by, the local (oligopolistic) supermarket industry, Gedara yamang.

What I do to chill out

Ah man, things are getting more hectic by the day, as the presure of impending exams and assignments builds up on top of work and the hassle of being in between shifting homes you increasingly look for more ways of relaxing. More ways of using what little free time you have to relax as much as you can. Here are my top 5 ways of relaxxxing.. aaaahhh

1) Working out - from anything to running, cricket, b-ball to lifting some weights to push ups at home. its really hard to bring yourself to do it but once you force yourself to start you'll feel the lethargy slipping away and some energy entering your bloodstream, and feel pretty much great afterwards!

2) Movies - Something which just takes you away for a couple hours to somewhere where the world as you know it does not exist. Just watched Master & Commander the other day. It was inventive, witty, the plot is intelligently devised. Other favorites include the Lord of the Rings (all three movies which i've lost count of how many times ive watched), Stardust (a bit girly maybe but still great!), The Martrix Trilogy, Snatch, The Godfather, The Illusionist, Anything by M. Night Shyamalan, City of Gods and the list extends.

3) Nature - Looking at the stars or staring at the waves. Those are th most accessible wonders of the universe to me. owing to me living close to the beach. The stars of course, are free to look at for anybody.

4) Reading - I read a lot. Right now i'm going randomly through Adam Smith's 'Wealth Of Nations' but no before you call me insane I do read the occasional novel. Used to read them a lot more back in the day but just find them too distracting now. So i've rationed myself to the occasional treat. Last couple I read were Terry Pratchett's 'Carpe Jugulum' and Isaac Asimov's 'Robots and Empire'. Mostly tend to stick to Sci-fi Fantasy stuff. have any of you guys heard of a chap called Iain M. Banks? he writes excellent sci-fi. The late A.C. Clarke is also a big fav.

5) Other stuff - like listening to music ( from heavy metal to trance to the radio to relaxing stuff like Enya, Enigma and just discovered this awesome Sri Lankan lounge band which Realskullzero plays in), to the occasional cigarette, to chilling out with friends to going for long drives on empty roads with some radio jockey for company. Lots of other things in fact, but only these just popped into my mind right now.

SPECIAL REPORT: Why Mervin Should Not Be Arrested

So the Supreme Court has released an arrest warrant for the notorious gangster Mervin Silva. Now we all know the gangster side of him. The side we’ve come to love and admire; friend of the poor, protector of the masses etc. But little did we know that he is actually the reincarnation of the great magician from Camelot, here to advise our very own version of King Arthur. Yes, his real name is MERLIN people, not Mervin. You read it first on The Whackster’s Lair.

Astrologers have been working on the mystery of Mervin for quite some time now and have no other explanation for his amazing deeds. Never before has such an exceptional level of thuggery been seen in this country, not even from the experts at the art that we usually get in the mob house honorable institution we lovingly refer to as the ‘parliament’. Such is the class of Mervin that he openly engages in public violence and gets away with it scot free. And never, not since medieval times has such blatant disregard for law and order by an official, meant to uphold the very values and ethics he breaks, been welcomed with so much ardor and love from his fellow goons members of the mob house parliament.

However, to get off the sarcastic tone and onto a more serious one, the very same astrologers have made a startling discovery in the process of their studies. They have discovered that the soul of Merlin the magician, originally full of virtue and goodness, had grown contemptuous and bitter after long years stuck wandering the cosmos, from sheer impatience out of waiting for the prophesied time to come. Merlin, only meaning to do good to the world and help the masses, had grown into a seething mass of hate and bitterness, out for the kill you could say.

For mystics speak of a prophesy, a prophesy whispered to Merlin on his deathbed so many years ago, by a mysterious sha-man from the Arctic. And as he lay there dying, he was told that his soul must wait till there was someone born who will be worthy enough to accept him into his body. A noble individual whose nobility was beyond comparison. So Merlin was destined to wait.

Centuries, no, millennia had to pass before the prophesied little boy was born with the bodily infrastructure suitable enough for the great soul of Merlin. And there, born out of wedlock to a cattle breeder, little Mervin Silva screamed his first note of defiance into the backside of a brooding cow, which promptly peed on him.

Such were his roots. But the corrupted soul of Merlin the magician took over our poor hero, who was meant to save us from oppression, and turned him to something dark. Very dark. I will not stress on what happened next. His meteoric rise to glory among the retarded political class. His open love for violence, his equally corrupt offspring etc.I am confident that you are aware of them. But a growing body of evidence is being discovered through various secret underground experiments carried out by famous astrologers working non-stop on the problem, that Mervin can actually be reformed, that the corrupt soul of Merlin can actually be exorcised from the body of this poor man; and made good once again.

In accordance with this, the astrologers and the powerful sponsors of these studies are ready to secretly provide concrete evidence to the Supreme Court that arresting Mervin Silva will only antagonize the soul of Merlin. It will only heap upon us destruction and oppression of previously untold proportions. The only way, the evidence strongly suggests, is to appease the soul of Merlin, to let him express his hate and release all the frustration pent up through millennia a little more, until he sees the good side of things, or is made to see it. Therefore, it is the belief of many that Mervin’s arrest should be vehemently avoided for his own good and the good of his countrymen.

So Sri Lankans are advised (chiefly by the anti-propagandist left wing media organizations) to be a bit more patient. A little less selfish. Who are we to mess with matters well beyond our intellectual capacity? Do not clamor for the arrest of Mervin, for that will only bring about more suffering upon you. Let our ignoble leadership handle him. They've done a splendid job so far. Put your faith in them just a little bit more.

Guys, the scum of the earth?

Reading the Messiah of Madness’s take on guys, at least her latest rant on the male species that was published on her blog (which she keeps changing the name of) a short while ago. I was a bit speechless, yet felt inclined to leave a comment to credit her masterful analysis. But I was quite literally stuck for words so all I could come up with was a quite subdued ‘erm..’

The Messiah outlines how a very good friend of hers was quite literally taken on a ride by this 22 year old ‘super-player’ who took it upon himself as a challenge to disprove her religious and conservative values and make her fall in love with him. Hmmmm.

She was of course, not trying to start an inter gender war of words or offend anyone. She made it quite clear that her statement was directed at only a certain part of the male species that acted like the afore mentioned guy and she admits as much when she says;

“ Guys are the neeking scum of the earth!!! K… not all… but most!!!”

That’s all very well. But her little post pushed my thoughts down a tunnel that I’ve been down before. So much so that I decided to sit down and write about it. All guys get a particular satisfaction when girls fall for them. It is flattering. It makes us feel good about ourselves. It gives you confidence in your battle at getting that elusive princess you have been chasing for quite a while. It tells you shortly, that you are an attractive and proud specimen of the male half of your species and that you have nothing to worry about in your ultimate quest to find a suitable mate. I suppose it is the same for girls as well.

The guy in question, at first glance, seems nothing surprising. For his kind is not rare. The kind that goes out of the way to get that attention. The kind that will do any unscrupulous thing in the book (and certain things that are not even in the book) to get a woman to sleep with him. I know few of them myself. They tend to waste an enormous amount of resources. Time, money, physical effort and tend to use all available mental capacities to accomplish it. They will go and meet their potential ‘prey’ wherever and whenever it is required. They will talk endless nonsense over the phone for long, long hours etc etc. but as far as I know, it is mostly in search of sex. But not always in a dirty way; mostly they are somewhat lost souls looking for satisfaction and fulfillment coupled with mental comfort and the sensation of being loved by a woman. Ego feeding I guess you could say.

But this guy strikes me as a bit different. The word ‘challenge’ and ‘love’ flash out at me. Apparently he wooed the Messiah’s friend as a ‘challenge’. To see if he could make her fall in love with him. He doesn’t strike me as your typical sex starved emotionally dependant individual. As a matter of fact, a part of me thinks maybe this guy actually likes her friend. Maybe one day he was walking down the road and he saw her, and he fell in love with everything that was her. Her eyes, her face, her hair, her voice, her manner, her walk, her feelings, her emotions, the very breeze that circles around her face, the very ground she steps on. Ok maybe not the ground she steps on. I have always found the whole concept of kissing the ground no matter who walked on top of it quite gross.

So maybe he considered himself such a hot shot and player and someone so special, that he couldn’t be going about falling in love with any and every single girl he meets. But he knew he had to have her. So what could he do? He couldn’t let her go. But at the same time he knew that he would not feel complete as a man if he couldn’t make her fall for him. He had to convince the world that here was man worthy of such a prize!

Or maybe the Messiah was right and he really is a creep. If that’s the case. Then he’s probably a real cold hearted sadistic pleasure seeker. A real conniving SOB, hell bent on self satisfaction and giving f*** all about other’s feelings. And we have had enough of those in the history of the human race to fill up hundreds of books.

Anyways, I hope the Messiah doesn’t mind this :). By the way, that girl can write, no matter how disillusioned she might be as to the extent of her abilities. And Lady Divine's raises a very valid point about women in her comment as well. so maybe the scum of the earth are just the scum of the earth. No gender discrimination involved? How politically correct.

Searching….Imagination…can’t…find….Anything!!

Ook.. so this is inspired by Dramaqueen inspired by Dee Cee inspired by Gutterflower.

I have a thing for these kinda mind exercises and like to then sit and think about the quirky things that come out. Haven’t given much thought to the below. Doing so would have spoilt the spontaneity and originality of it. I don’t know if that’s the way it’s supposed to be done, but that’s the way I did it. Enough rambling. Here we go.


I remember everything that happened with her

I don't care a damn though (at least I think so..)

I want to move on with my life. Continuously.

I hate my ‘sucker for love’ attitude

I wonder If aliens exist

I have never seen one though

I know nothing much


And because Dramaqueen wanted to ‘stimulate her creativity even further’ which i think is a good idea, I shall try that as well:


I live for tomorrow

I desire wealth and power

I love money and beautiful women : )

I need some satisfaction!

I revel in pain and rejection.


Now that’s something to think about…

Perpetual Fear

He is stuck inside his cave hugging his knees,

The situation is grave, all around him the darkness of fear,

Outside the sun shines a glimmering blur, as seen through a sheen of water.

The painting swarms in front of his eyes, forever shifting shapes,

He can see her face, her eyes, his future, his dreams going to waste,

That place, his race, his pace, his age

His face, his name, his date, his eyes.

His pain knows no disguise, it is visible to all but only a few decide,

To have a look and see inside,

And what will they find?

A writhing mass, writhing tall?

A seething pit of blood and gore?

He hugs his knees and bows his head

He lives in perpetual fear.

He refuses to believe the sunshine is real, he refuses,

His fear to him is far dearer.

The Prophecies of Ranjan

The nation’s Hero and everybody’s favorite film star Ranjan Ramanayaka is all ready to use his fame and name to finally do some good for the downtrodden and long suffering masses of Sri Lanka. Renowned for chasing away corrupt politicians and making them pee in their pants in his movies, it is hoped by everyone with a sense and craving for justice that Ranjan Aiyya will do the same with the real politicians in this country and bring about a new age of freedom and integrity.

Ranjan aiyya is unafraid, period. He is the type of man who will stare down a charging lion with nothing but scorn in his eyes. He is the type of leader that this country needs.

It is expected by many that the size of his biceps alone will have enough power to pass game changing legislation in the parliament. His political success will know no bounds because he is a Man of the People and what is more, now that Ranjan’s political prowess is unleashed and he can publicly wield his God given influence without modesty, he should rekindle his romance with Sri Lanka’s golden girl Anarkali and save her, yes, save that poor girl from the evil clutches of that uncultured demon, Duminda.

They will then romance each other in the light of public scrutiny and become the most sought after, imitated and paparazzied couple in the country. They will together revolutionize the culture of this island and noble Anarkali will become the guiding shadow on the pathway of Ranjan Aiyya’s journey to becoming the first permanent president of Sri Lanka.

What is more, Ranjan Aiyya will abolish the need for bodyguards for Sri Lankan politicians and cut down, massively, on government spending in this regard. Instead he will make them follow a vigorous exercise schedule and make them sculpt bodies of Spartanic proportions (although none of those lazy individuals will be able to match up to Ranjan Aiyya’s physique; which is of Greek Godly proportions). Our politicians will then proceed to be trained in the various arts of fighting and will float around dodging bullets and taking on gunfights bare fisted.

Ranjan Aiyya will then proceed to rid the country of the scourge of terrorism and will singlehandedly defeat Prabhakaran and 200,000 LTTE cadres armed to the teeth in an historic battle that will be the turning point in the history of this country.

He will then preach peace and equality for all and will be the father of a new nation and lead Sri Lanka to world economic dominance fuelled mainly by the power of the local film industry which he will nurture and cultivate to such an extent that we would be the sole suppliers of entertainment to every single person on the planet.

He will then proceed to win over and control all the rest of the world’s leaders with the sheer power of his charisma.

And such will be the rise of Sri Lanka from an insignificant island nation to the world’s first truly noble superpower.

All hail the dawning of the Ranjan Revolution! long live One Shot!

Confessions from the Dark Side.

Forgive me, for I have sinned. I am a sinner because sinning is all I do in this life. I am cruel and I am insensitive. I am a Bad, Bad Boy.

And yet I am an even worse sinner because I simply revel in my badness. I Luurrve being bad. It’s like being bad is a loverrly smooth dripping ice cream sundae and I am parched and exhausted and have seen nothing but the desert for weeks! And I just want to rub it on my face and smack and lick and suck all that luverrly refreshing ice-cream into my system. That’s how much I like being bad.

And what kind of badness do I revel in? Unfortunately, there is no glory or an abstractly admirable angle in my badness. I am not a heroic crook like McAvity the Mystery Cat, nor am I a soldier who blasts to smithereens the nearest enemy head. I am no Robin Hood or a modern day Saradiyel. No, my badness does not conjure up visions of Schwarzenegger in Terminator nor even of Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs.

No, my badness is more of a sneaky kind of badness.

I am a sniveling, snickering creature inside my head who likes nothing better than to pick on people’s weaknesses, I laugh at their accent, I laugh at their clothes, I laugh at their parents, I laugh at their kindness, I laugh at everything possible for me to laugh at.

And yet, a part of me laughs at me at the same time. A part of me laughs at me because I laugh at them. a part of me feels sorry for me for being so petty. A part of me despises the miserable creature and that part is constantly ashamed of this badness.

And still I laugh. Oh how I laugh! I like nothing better than to look at some pitiful inferior creature and laugh my guts out at that poor individual’s fate. I associate with them, talk to them and live with them. Among them there are individuals who love me, who treasure me and would give their lives for my safety, but yet a part of me laughs at them. A part of me despises them. A part HATES them. A part wants to KILL them, MAIM them and TORTURE them. A part of me is Very Very Morbid.

That is the most dangerous idea I have come across. When you brush your teeth every morning, have a closer look in the mirror. That mind that your eyes conceal is capable of more evil than you think. There is more evil going on in there than you know. In fact, you’re probably at least as twice as evil as you think you are right now. And if you think there is no evil in you, then you must be one of those philosophical types who think that good and evil are purely irrelevant words used to describe a purely subjective phenomenon.

But potentially, oh yes potentially, we are capable of anything. Today I might be a docile teeth brusher peacefully going to work but tomorrow I could snap and beat my colleague to death with my telephone.

There is evil in all of us. It is just waiting to snap out. But sometimes it sneaks and seeps through the gaps you have left open in your mind, eating into your subconscious and transforming you into something different.

There is a Jack in all of us.

A Matter of Opinion or Restlessnessnesslessrestlessnesslessness…

My mind is a swarming pit of agoraphobic monsters coping up with the air in the gloom of my darkening fate. The masses of the world look at me with skewed eyes and their hypocrisy and refusal to believe the reality that is in their own heads and hearts never ceases to disgruntle me.

For what are we but vessels of thought? What are we but cabins that house a myriad of events and imaginations that take place one after the other on a day to day basis? We constantly correct ourselves, contradict ourselves and confuse ourselves with the implications and the counter-implications of our thoughts and ideas. Does it matter if no one else appreciates my work? Will that render my work devoid of any literal value? Do we have to write to please others? Or do we have to write something that is correct and is of value to people?

But how do we judge what is correct? How do we judge what is right when in the realm of the mind, depending on what internal forces counteract with each other in what particular manner, anything could be deemed as right. And that is what we call opinion. Opinion is formed depending on an individual’s circumstances and therefore, it follows that the only instance where two individuals who possess identical opinions on a subject can be found is where these two individuals have been through identical circumstances all throughout their lives.

And that is a practical impossibility which goes without saying. So therefore no human being can possess an opinion which is identical to that of another human being on the same subject at any time. All we can do is broadly agree on a few things. But when it really gets down to the nitty-gritty, we will eventually always disagree. So that’s why we compromise.

‘You can’t have everything your way’.

But I am still restless.

An Echo of a Narcissist

On the eve of another weekend and I’m feeling so goddamn down. My finals start on Monday and I’ll be done by Friday. Imagine that eh, one and a half years of dedicated work and now I am finally wrapping up my dip. But Friday will also be the day when I kiss my love goodbye. One and a half years of motivation to come early to class every Sunday morning was definitely a good thing. Yet it is sad that it was never anything more than that. We talked, we laughed, had lunch together. Ah, I have some good memories with that girl.

Generally depression tends to take over me at odd times of the day. But strangely I am always happy in the nights. It is like all the possibilities, hopes and dreams of the next day manifest themselves as something more solid than mere fantasy. Yeah well, nights are definitely my thing I suppose. Or maybe this is just a passing illusion and the nights are just the best time of the day for me right now.

whatever said, my mood swings are so unpredictable that they just suddenly take over me out of the blue. it is like one moment i am all bubbly and the next; boom! lol but one good thing is that I now know that eventually the gloom will lift and i'll be myself again.

I am natutrally a melancholy person. I dont know, but some part of me will always like sitting down with a grave expression on my face and thinking grave thoughts. i suppose it is what i use to differentiate myself from the rest of the human race. sort of an attempt at playacting at being one of those Philosophical Greats i've heard about and admire.

i am an eternally self obsessed narcissist. or is it right to say it like that? i mean, if you're self obsessed then you have to be a narcissist, and if you are a narcissist then it goes without saying that you have to be self obsessed. i guess it was the wannabe philosopher in me again trying to impress. so i guess he will now have to decide whether he'd rather be called a narcissist or just self obsessed. let him ponder that.

while he is being kept busy, let me give vent to another of my personalities. notice i did not say 'split personality' and that is because there is nothing split up about my personalities. they are many and constantly mixing themselves up with each other to form new, and heretheto non-existent forms and always give in their input and jump in during the mental processes of my brain. Even, and especially, when they are not asked to do so.

But i would generaly describe myself and a person who is generally satisfied with his suroundings.

This brings me to the personality I was talking about. the Analyst. even at this moment the Analyst is analyzing what i am writing and together with the PR guy is trying to convince me to not be so open with the outside world. the reading of various crime and conspiratorial novels has left the Analyst eternally suspicious about what to reveal and what not to and he undergoes extreme pains to try and figure out how the individuals in his life will interpret what is being revealed and how every nuance will affect his future in different ways.

This attack is however counterracted on a constant basis by the Idealist and the Experimenter (who might just be one and the same; i do not know yet) who claim that putting yourself out there in nothing but raw and brutally truthful detail is too good a chance to miss. The I & E is almost sadistic in his intent to break all emotional and protective barriers of his psyche and takes an almost maniacal glee in doing exactly the opposite of what the Anylyst recommends.

Yet I&E is not a total psychopath. he will stop where logical reason dictates he must. He will stop whe he understands that his actions will definitely result in some unfavorable outcome. the Idealist & Experimenter (knowingly or unknowingly) often takes it upon himself to prove or disprove the sometimes outlandish, yet mostly reasonably acceptable, theories of the Analyst.

Well teamwork is alway a good thing is'nt it?

Until next time then peeps, the Narcissist (I think he's decided on that for now)has left the building.