The Abstract

You seem so peaceful and calm. I cannot understand you but yet I want you. You are my existence, you are my emotions. You are everything i fear and everything I love.

You make me cry in the dark, and keep me up at night. You are the endless possibilities of anything and everything.

You are my music. You are my unheard voice.

The sound of my guitar has gone unheard for too long. The skins on my drums are bored and dusty. My words are few but important.

So hear me now, but don't try to understand.

Random Rant... Sleepless

sleepless nights
darkened lights
tiresome confusion
and comfortable illusion
reasonless thoughtlessness
ignorance innocence
joyfully naive
this reminiscence i leave

Why Worry - Dire Straits

Baby I see this world has made you sad
Some people can be bad
The things they do, the things they say
But baby I'll wipe away those bitter tears
I'll chase away those restless fears
That turn your blue skies into grey
Why worry, there should be laughter after the pain
There should be sunshine after rain
These things have always been the same
So why worry now
Baby when I get down I turn to you
And you make sense of what I do
I know it isn't hard to say
But baby just when this world seems mean and cold
Our love comes shining red and gold
And all the rest is by the way
Why worry, there should be laughter after pain
There should be sunsh ine after rain
These things have always been the same
So why worry now

People (sorta reader rant...)

I spent today, mostly very angry. Most of this anger was directed at well, mostly everyone around me, not outwardly, but well, inwardly. This anger, its a new side of me, or rather a renewed side of me that well i had worked very hard to get rid of.

I grew up around Indians. I quite like Indians, mostly because I am one. Then there were the westerners on the tele, and obviously at college. At college I met the Internationals. There were the Asians, the Africans, the South-Asians, the Americans, the Jocks, the Jews, the Christians, the Britons, the Scottish, the Hicks. I met the Indian-Canadians, who looked Indian, but thought Canadian. I went back home and I met the infamous "Locals". I met the gays and I met the hippies.
And I managed to meet everyone in between too...

People fling the word 'diversity' around like its a chipmunk on crack sitting on a windmill... and people seem to carry their culture on their skin. You know how in school they tell you that 'everyone is special in their own special way', diplomatically using the word special instead of different...

Well the truth is that everyone is different. Their circumstances are different. And throughout the course of my "anger day", I noticed only one thing. I was angry because all of these people around me were not like me. They spoke differently, they walked differently, they had a different body language, they wore different clothes... and I kept wondering why. Why can't they be more like me.

But then it comes to me in a rush of epiphanyness...

The problem isn't with the people around me....

*aah cliche bullshit to follow... cant think of nice words to put it in... so just fill in the last bit yourself... *

i feel better now... less anger... lighter....

Last night...

The world is so much bigger than me....

The music, the living, the thoughts, the perfection... we strive to believe that which we have achieved... that which we have not discovered, has been discovered. Our eyes have been deceived by the intoxication of the upheld. The qualms of the public have raped me of my identity and of my choice. There is no identity left here.

On the risk of turning into a cynic, i shall criticize the minuteness of myself in this world. I shall criticize the minuteness of my voice and of my person. Why do I think the things i do. They are because of you. I fucking hate you.

But I touch you. I touch you and i feel magic. I feel the electricity run through my fingers and into you. I feel you feel me. I feel your voice penetrate me. I cant find the words... I just can’t find the words....

My world is different from yours... but my heart is intertwined with yours. I feel what you feel. But i must leave my ego at the door to hear your voice... i must let go of myself to let you in... you will be forever lost in the noise of my silence if i don’t hear you... I must hear you... i long to hear you...

I, Me, Myself... when does this story leave me... when am i free from myself... when can I see me in your light, in your eyes, in you...Now, I feel that i am you. I feel that you are me. My voice comes out of you... you cannot say anything that will harm me... you are in sync with me... I cannot help but break down in tears when i am reminded of you. I need to stop here and remember you... pure... sweet... like thick, intoxicating honey....

I am lost because i cant find the words. So i will borrow them. I will try and then i will err. I will search the deepest corners of my soul... Don’t hear my words... hear me feel.. hear me suffer... hear it in my voice, but don’t hear my words.