The Odyssey

Mountains loom in the distance

Although to them

I may loom just as much

The only barrier in between

Are the gently rolling plains

that divide

David and goliath

Romeo and Juliet

Where there is light

Shadows will never be

too far behind

and when the sun

is at it's noonday peak

shade is where

you must find respite

The lake is not yet dry

You must however

dig a little deeper

to find what it is you desire

did you really think

it would always be that simple?

Graduating from model cars

And action figures

To love and respect

From injection molded images

To crystalline dreams

Floating on conflicting gales of wind

Fragments of destination

Buffets about

With no destination

And there perhaps

My destiny?

To be lulled into false security

With my own lullabies

Being afraid to bid my hellos

Because I fear good byes.

Specs

The glint of steel
and glitter of quartz
specs of limestone
and bits of dust
summoned
from distant lands
from Ceylon to Avalon
they here now
yet they shall travel on
from seas to mountains
and from forests to gems
their life is as are ours
for they are lived
as unique specs
in a sea of pseudo homogeneity
cursed to be imprisoned as one
as each and every spec
is free

Round Here

I simply cannot get ovver this song. Thank you, Pixie. I get goosebumps every time i listen to it.

Round Here- Counting Crows

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog
Where no one notices the contrast of white on white
And in between the moon and you the angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
I walk in the air between the rain through myself and back again
Where? I dont know
Maria says shes dying through the door I hear her crying
Why? I dont know

Round here we always stand up straight
Round here something radiates

Maria came from nashville with a suitcase in her hand
She said she'd like to meet a boy who looks like elvis
She walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land
Just like shes walking on a wire in the circus
She parks her car outside of my house
Takes her clothes off
Says shes close to understanding jesus
She knows shes more than just a little misunderstood
She has trouble acting normal when shes nervous

Round here were carving out our names
Round here we all look the same
Round here we talk just like lions
But we sacrifice like lambs
Round here shes slipping through my hands
Sleeping children better run like the wind
Out of the lightning dream
Mamas little baby better get herself in
Out of the lightning

She says its only in my head
She says shhh I know its only in my head
But the girl on car in the parking lot says
man you should try to take a shot
Cant you see my walls are crumbling? Then she looks up at the building and says shes thinking of jumping
She says she's tired of life she must be tired of something

Round here shes always on my mind
Round here hey man got lots of time
Round here were never sent to bed early
And nobody makes us wait
Round here we stay up very, very, very, very late
I cant see nothing, nothing round here
Catch me if Im falling

Single Stringed

Throw you cloak of blindness over me
A warming comfort, that I cannot see
Where my hands are,
are what you hide
Minds that mate
Breaths divide
Shackles warm
Are made of skin
Exultation I shout
I’m not within
A prison made
Because there are no chains
At the screaming winds I shout
Claw and maim
I’m a drifting thought
Carried away
by the dreams I bought
From kite peddlar led astray
Dreams are
flying free
I am ‘I’
but where is me?
Vivid numbness
overwhelms my mind
Is it the ground or myself
that I’m trying to find?
Flash on your lights
You will see it in the dark
The kite is pure white
Yet it and heaven
are worlds apart
Lightening strikes
Like veins on the arm of the Lord
Down it smites
Needing no melody,
just playing the chords
Notes divine on a celestial lute
This stony soul may yet bear fruit
My arms tire though the kite yet flies
Painting the truth
though the colors are lies
Both are connected
By a single, fragile line
Though the method is sacrilege
The result is divine
Flying high
In a sundered sky
White on black
Black on white
Am I the man or the kite?
The string,
or the wind of the night?

Something written by a friend:

I wish to put my thoughts to words
yet fear them before me in black and white
I jot down what would not aggrieve my ego
or act adverse to my self-proclaimed stern principles
eventually creating a false reality
So i agree to put one notion to paper:
If i were ever to turn my life into a book
it would be the greatest fiction of all time

- MMJ

The Angel of Hope

For Angel

dreams, they run
like water departing
the hands of hte thirsty
and they always shall

and as hearts break
like fine porcelain cups
in the hands of young
misbehaved children
they shall decorate
the floors of our concience
with their strewn shards
jagged edges

so how can my memory remain
to comfort your every step?
If you callous your feet, angel
they will hurt equally less
can i at least serve then
to be tingle that eases the pain?
or to be the ointment that heals the wound?

Life cuts us all angel
and time heals us
so that we may be cut again
and dreams always fade angel
yet we dream again
every night.

Dream again, angel
for though the water
may run through your fingers
the pool shall never dry

Dream, angel.
Dream.

Placebo

Where am I? Within myself, I mean. Every day, I go about. The social me, the nu,mb me. Don’t care if I meet anyone, don’t care if I don’t. All that matters is that im not bored

That was just a dream
To cry
Die
Why?
Just a dream.
Just a dream?

Where have I gone to within myself? I’ve become too… lethargic, too preoccupied for introspection. When introspection does come, it comes in fits of forced jumbles that I wrangle into shape, into coherence.

That’s me in the corner,
that’s me in the spot light
losing my religion

My life right now, I realize, is simply a placebo. A God Damned fucking fucked up placebo that does nothing but buy time. At first I thought it was just numbness while I was healing myself- on the inside. After the hurricane.

But I’ve lost myself. Where am I now? I’ve gone from being introspective, philosophical, and occasionally brilliant, to simply bored, ineffectual, and mundane. About a month ago, whule I was at home, I read through an old notebook and incidentally fell upon a written conversation with a friend. I realized that I was so much more insightful back then than I am now.

I am now so jaded, and have become half of what I was afraid of becoming.
But then, things no longer hurt. My life is no longer going the wrong way. Instead, it runs directionless. Mediocre Magnitude coupled with nondirection.
And then I realize, that is exactly what I have become, mediocre.

I am not developing, I am not learning. I am not motivated, I am not thirsty. I am simply numb.

My life right now is a placebo. It is ineffectual. I am not me. All that ranting and fucked up bullshit about that shitty road that does not fucking exist is nothing but bullshit. There is no road, there is no me, there are no rivers or ravines.

There simply is.

My mind is blank, again. Where does all the fire go right when I try to harness it? Why does it slip through my fingers like water evading the cupped hands of a desertfarer. There are no roads in the desert- there never were. But I found my way once, guided by belief and fueled by naiveté. The stars always have been there to guide me, but I’m too blind to see them now.

Where is my muse? Vacationing in Bermuda? Where is my spirit? Surely there is more to life than endless music, porn, and sheeshah?

My insides are hollow, where once they were hallowed. They say that Jibrael washed the inside of the Prophet’s torso with zamzam before he went on mairage. Can I have a little too? But that again would be a placebo, would it not? After all, what use is it, washing an empty vessel?

My insecurities, all the confidence issues are still there. I simply want too much. While I am quite good at nearly everything I do, I am exceptional at nothing. At the end of the day, just being good doesn’t win. So, I dub myself ineffectual. All my victories, all my achievements, while some achieved despite circumstance are usually the result of circumstance. Yes, God, you have been most gracious. But couldn’t you at least made me to have deserved them?

My demons will remain, because I will never be strong enough to face them, and that shall be the story of my life. A story of broken flight upon unbroken wings bearing a semishattered spirit.

I’m hurting right now, so I guess I’m doing something right.

Random Line

Just a random line that I'm writing down before i forget.

Will work on it some more later...

I miss looking at the skies
when they were the blue
of crystalline wonder
scattered with white dreams
before they were torn asunder

and i cant stop looking now
because i never truly started

Life is good? (Randomness.com!)

Life is good.. simply due to the lack of it being bad.

My back's been hurting like anything lately. Need to fix my sitting posture (highly poetic, no?)

Abs's sister is getting married in november, so im practicing singing cheesy indian songs to impress the paindoo chickies :P

Going to start making shitloads of money from tomorrow, inshallah. B-)

Oh, and I've started giving my posts labels too! Hurray for technology!

I;m getting all these individual lines into my head.. but i cant be bothered to write them down!

I lose more good poetry that way.

16 Maybe Less- By Iron and Wine

This song nearly brought tears to my eyes.

Beyond the ridge to the left, you asked me what I want
Between the trees and cicadas singing around the pond
"I spent an hour with you, should I want anything else"

One grinning wink like the neon on a liquor store
We were sixteen, maybe less, maybe a little more
I walked home smiling, I finally had a story to tell

And though an autumn time lullaby
Sang our newborn love to sleep
My brother told me he saw you there
In the woods one Christmas Eve, waiting

I met my wife at a party, when I drank too much
My son is married and tells me we don't talk enough
Call it predictable, yesterday my dream was of you

Beyond the ridge to the west, the sun had left the sky
Between the trees and the pond, you put your hand in mine
Said, "Time has bridled us both, but I remember you too"

And though an autumn time lullaby
Sang our newborn love to sleep
I dreamt I traveled and found you there
In the woods one Christmas Eve, waiting

Fool's Gold

Edited it:

Fool's Gold
Fool's Gold
Bow before me
Upon my high ivory throne
be awed of me
resplendent in my majesty
created so that i may be awed
that you are awed
time and time again
with my omni[im]potence
shimmering crimson and gold
weighing more than they are worth
worth more than they seem
for in my realm
all that glitters is gold
because gold is all that glitters
in the realm of fools

Cast down your eyes when i look upon you
You have no right to see the jade of my eyes
the jaded jade that i surmise
while i look about
grinning frowningly
jesting sadistically
in the court fool
in my mirror

in my realm
the realm of hte fool
all that glitters is gold
fool's gold

I'll be back soon.

Bear with me.

Tagged

things I can't do:

1. Draw- I can barely draw a straight line!

2. Grow up- It's just not fun. (unless the situation truly calls for it, in which case i can be VERY mature)

3. Lose all hte weight i want to- Although im pretty close to this, at hte moment.

Three things I can do:

1. Empathise with almost anyone

2. Express my ideas clearly and convincingly

3. Create new ideas and concepts, or innovate on existing ones

Three things that scare me:

1. Myself

2. The Future- Whats in store, the consequences of slipping, of being weak

3. The Past- Forgetting lessons learnt. Reliving nightmares.

Three things I love:

1. Who I am- on the inside

2. Food- 'nuff said

3. The Peices of my heart (Family, and close friends)

Three things that I hate:

1. Who I am- on the inside

2. My flabby stomach

3. Conventionalism

Fairly straightforward, no?

Tagging:

Rahema

Malika

Deep Purple

Opinionated Jaahil

Barook

Tazz

Happyhurt

I was content, about 10 minutes ago. Now, my chest hurts, as it is wont to do when i feel slightly broken hearted...

But about what, i wonder?

Is it because that i felt so strong that i realize that i may be weak? Or that i then felt so weak that i must be strong, since i'm still bearing that feeling. I'm ba at this, i know. But... what the fuck?

I wish i was callous, cold and uncaring. But no one is truly like that, are they? Immerse yourself in the coldest shower, and it will feel like white hot needles boring into your skin.

My chest hurts... but my mind is normal. It does not throb, it does not flit from scene to scene, from thought to thought.

I'm in the eye... yet there is no storm.

I no longer hurt like i once did
Yet teh stars sparkle no more, as they once did
the water i drink is cooler than before
but not nearly as sweet

Sick

I'm sick of being a student.

I want to become an artist. :P

A writer/singer/musician.

Yehaa!

Buying Time

Can I buy myself some time?
A minute for a nickel... two for a dime?
There are so many places
where i wish i had said what i had thought
and i wish i had thought what you had said
But this is a one way road im travelling on
although it jumps up and down more like a rollercoaster

so please.. can i buy myself a little time?
Turn back a few moments, cross that uncrossable line?
So many dreams i wish i could have made reality
and so many realities i wish i could have shaken off as dreams
but they are all there still
echoes of reality, and afterglares of reason

Would you then consent to buy me a little time?
it would be so gernerous of you, if u told me i could call it mine
to cherish the scent of the earth in the first monsoon rain
and the heat of brooding passion anguished in dark corners
each scent a harbinger of a thousand memories,
and each victory a sweet reminder of pain

It's time, perhaps, that i bought a little time
though my destination would seem mundane, the step itself is divine
smiling smiles that remained unsmiled
and shedding tears that remained unshed
buying back time that i spent
biding my time

My Utopia

Awaken now, child of hope
Awaken, and rub the night from your eyes
ans shake the dreams from your hair
a new day await
with new paths to uncover
and old skin to shed
the sun is alight
but is eclipsed by your beauty
and i am content to walk
beneath your shadow
as it gives me shade
and I give you
radiance.

A Post from Rahema's Blog

I think im going to fall in lov with Rahema. And it doesnt even matter if she already has a guy :P

from her blog:

Comes the fall of night little one, sleep in the calm of your bed. Sleep why don’t you?
I have you in my embrace.
A world of dreams await- so sleep.

The noise on the street..what is it?

It’s only a pack of dogs; they are on quest for food. Hungry dogs speak like that.
I can hear them, yes. But let not the noise worry you dear. They will find food and they will be silent.
You must try and sleep.

What do they eat…..these dogs?

They eat all that is smaller than them and anything that is alive. They travel in groups and dwell in cosseted citadels. They are creatures of unlight sweetheart; they prowl during the night and look for their kill. Go to sleep, surely you don’t want a sight of them.

Am I.. smaller than them?

Sleep you must.
The dogs let sleeping boys be….…
…you are out of harms way child, you are in the shelter of your home, and in the guard of my hold. Cool in your room is it not? Close your eyes and it will turn into the cool of a birch. Close them. Is your bed not made of wings? Of a seraphim’s pale watery wings?

And of rose petals..and of candy…and of clouds…

Outside a scream is followed by a gun shot. There is a clutter of noises and sounds. She puts her hands on her son’s ears and hides his head in her bosom.

Were those the dogs mother?

Yes. They must have made a kill. It must have been a rat- a street rat. You know rats are very small; they are lower down in the food chain. Rats die each day and the ecosystem goes on fine. That’s how the flora and fauna subsist. Its okay, the dogs will linger within the fringe of silence till their insanity awakens again.
…before that go to sleep, are not the cherubs beckoning you for play? Sleep and they will share with you the dreams of celestial nations and show you the golden kingdoms of kings.

The kingdom in which I am a brave knight, and I sleep on wings of an angel with my sword?

Yes..with your sword ornamented with diamonds to protects you. The radiance of these diamonds veils you from all peril. Sleep within this delicate shelter my dear, for when you come awake it might be gone. Rest in the arms of Morpheus, maybe you wake up in his land.

With the fairy tale endings, and so many dreams summoning him to slumber, he slept.

The air was then pierced with a riotous noise. There was a swarm of people outside: chanting, shouting even running. Someone started knocking vigorously on the door. She was scared. She didn’t want to, but she opened the door. There was momentary commotion at the door, but her son didn’t wake up. Not just then.

It was very quiet when he woke up. His mother wasn’t there. The door was open and the house was in a mess.
He had woken up and surely, his protective veil had gone. His diamond adorned sword and him were a world apart, in the world of dreams and angels.
‘The dogs let sleeping boys be’
They had come and left.
The dogs.

In another land, his diamond studded sword awaited his arrival, as he wondered if he too was a rat in the food chain.



The ending could have been better though.

Wish i coud write like that.

Walking On...

I'm walking on, as usual. The road is straight and easy, but I am ill at ease. Tedious perhaps, is the best way to describe the situation. Long, but uneventful is not something i desire. Let the mountains come so that i may conquer their peaks. Let the ravines divide my past, they shall be left behind. Let raging rivers flow before me, their waters are my drink, for their rage seems paltry compared to my own.

The road is me, and i am not easy, i am not tedious. I am a storm that rains on will, with brilliant squalls lighting up the sky, and sheets of rain overcoming the earth. Flooding it. Drowning it. It is not my domain, the earth.

But when i desire it, it shall be.

My spirit walks while my soul flies. My mind treads ever hallowed ground. I am divided, and within that division, I am one. Some earth and some sky. Some fir and some water. And my will is, the strongest of steel.

My path shall not be tedious.

For i AM my path.

Tagged

1. Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it? Right beow left side of lower lip. Ran into a table an pierced through it with my tooth when i was about 3.
2. What does your phone look like? Black Nokia 3250. I actually quite like it.
3. What is on the walls of your bedroom? Just about nothing but an AC.
4. What is your current desktop picture?This picture from woozie's blog.
5. Do you believe in gay marriage? Dont really care as lonjg as they dont bug me. Dont mind bi women though. :-P
6. What do you want more than anything right now? To grow up... yet keep my inner child.
7. What time were you born?3pm
8. Are your parents still together?Yuppy duppy
9. Last person who made you cry? The combonation of my mother, father, most of my friends, and 'her'. All stabbing me at the same time. :-)
10. What is you favourite perfume/cologne?
Chic by carolina Herrera, Issey Miyake, Echo, and 212
11. What kind of hair/eye colour do you like in the opposite sex? Dark is good, grey is amazing.
12. What are you listening to? Better than me- hinder, it's not over- daughtry, umbrella- rihanna, and Mein aaj uroon- the rising
13. Do you get scared of the dark? Never felt a reason to be...
14. Do you like pain killers?LOL... Nope, not at all. I'm not afraid of pain. 15. Are you too shy to ask someone out? Was. Not sure at hte moment. Just might.
16. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be? That big shawarma meat spit thing, with nothing but a knife, fork, and unlimited coke. :-D
17. Who was the last person you made mad? LOL... i have no idea. My friend the stupid pathan, i think
18. Is anyone in love with you?Dunno. Probably not.

Tagging:
Tazz
Sidrah
Woozie
Sarem
priZm
Malika
Opinionated Jaahil
Rahema (if she even reads this)

Untitled

warm
my
heart,

oh furnace bright

so that i may tear the world

a s u n d e r

for the love of

l g t i g
i h n n


shall melt the heart of

sto
ne


while the w-a-n-d-e-r-i-ng

e

y

e


lies upon an altar of

[blindness]

fire |and| water

shall

ma<------->te


progeny of

r
e
d

and

e
u
l
b

particles flaying about


fixed in place by

=ti.Me=

flying swords sheathed and

r

u

s

t

i

n

g


within scabbards of

\ c / l \ a / y \

!F!R!E!E!

ti > ME

u

b s a d
a t r

|......................
|.................
|....................
|...........
|...........................
|.................
|........
|...

[.]
nevermind.

Raindrops

Drip Drop Raindrops
falling from the sky

blessed droplets to us they seem
has heaven passed them by?

splish splosh raindrops
hurtling towards the earth

meaning well, they slipped and fell
while trying to find a higher berth

criss cross raindrops
slamming against each other as they fall

speeding towards destiny they run
single minded, out of control

flip flop raindrops
just like you and me

born in the sky, falling to the ground
only in between, are we free

The Road

I want to fly, up in the sky, where i belong.

I want to pad upon untrod earth as it is my domain, and within it, i am unbound and unhindered. I can be my true self, and my true self can be me.

Self for many, is a search. For me, it is a journey. The real me is not the destination, however, it is the road upon which i tread. I'll not tread lightly, for that would be to do wrong to the strength of the road. Instead, i Salli kick it with my steel toes, and dig into it with my heels. Every cut and scrape shall be worn like decorated battle scars. They turn this road into my road. For the scars are made by myself, upon myself. And it is they who have given distinctiveness to this otherwise plain track.

I walk upon the road... yet the road... is me.

So i conquer the sky, while i walk my road- for i am fire. On both, yet belonging to neither.

This is the singular picture that i have ever seen that ifeel like i can relate to.

Narcissism

Too afraid to see within
and if it is what lies within themselves that they fear
who can imagine their fear of my realm?
fire mated with ice
shards and stones
charred bones
and fledgeling trees growing in between

Volcanoes erupt and flowers bloom
perceptions are changed and values doomed
And there i stand, eye of the storm
eyes alight, sighs forlorn

the battles within are fought without
ignorance reigns, in the absence of doubt
forsaking answers, refusing to question
joy abound, neglected depression

refusing to look for what you may see within
so i look instead and admire my prison
darkly withheld, blindingly enlightened
in an egotistic realm, it's courageous to be frightened

And i admire and express the beauty i see inside
apparent to sensation it is, and easy to confide
motlen lava, lush green trees
apparent they are, if u only bother to see

so bespeak i do
the reality that i see
since you are too blind
to behold the beauty within me

Fire

Written by Ahuva Goldstand, expanded by Ali Ghafoor

'Tween both domains it lies
your choice
your will awaits
your wish, your voice
it flickers and prances
it shivers and dances
enticing you, beckons
it tempts with a passion
consuming your tears,
doth destruction rejoice

And yet impartial remains
This beast
On charm, cheer, or havoc
Will feast
Lies dormant it's scheme
Till unleashed will preen
Brilliant aurora
Now a life of its own
Burns slowly, torments
You'll never find peace

And as it flails and waves
turning your rants
into it's raves
You'll stare into it's blinding core
and will finally be able to see

It's not the fire that burn
but your reflection
It's not the world that turns
Just your perceptions
It not the sun that rises
Nor society that surmises
and the oceans have always been
higher than land
true fire awaits
though you have barred it's gates
as you lay busy
rewriting the lines
upon your hands.

In a State of Shock

Now completed, with Ahuva Goldstand:

Pixies and pygmies
metaphors and similes
black-orange sunrise
marred grey leaves

perhaps it was time to say goodbye
shedding mercury tears
but it wasnt me
that was supposed to cry

zeolots pledge
infedility, yet trust
within my marrow
wisps of rust

I'm not high
why am i walking on air?
come on out now, self
i know you're there

hairy baldness
on my head
writing it all down
what was that thing i said?

about morning glories
enjoying carnal nights
shivering with lust
their cleansing rites

cracked blankets of autumn
covering smoothed out land
kneeling grey ditches
trying to stand

forests aflame
in the cool nights air
burnt out heart
cower in your lair

trying to make sense
of what you see around
moisture in the dust
sky in the ground

amongst metaphors
and similes
orange black sunsets
and marred grey leaves

In a cold dark room
On a dreary winters night
Pensive in my gloom
'twas a wretched sight


as my pen I gripped
left with none but me
oér my thoughts I tripped
blindly trying to see


flowing ink like blood
crimson, hot like fire
smoke, ashes, wine and mud
tangled lies, fear, desire


saltly words falling free
raced across the page
raving mad I begged
pulling hair, I raged


and the moon, undisturbed
hung tranquil in the sky,
offered nothing, unperturbed
impassive to my silent cry


fury of my pen
lonely echo to my call
like a beast, guard my den
tomb of fear standing tall


poisoned words, verbs and noun
cloak the raw, mask my plight
shaking hand, eyes cast down
last escape, my pain, I write.

Crux of the Issue

You know what my basic problem is?

It's simply that I care too much about too many people.

Yes world... target sign is attached to my ass.

'Insert here'

Privilege

Made of dust, born in spires
self-perceived demigods they roam
un-unique in substance, similar in proportion
differing only by the heights of the towers in which they dwell
looking down unto others
similar in substance, identical in proportion
but like specs of dust to his mind's eye
as they reside so far below
the tower upon which they dwell
power, bestow these towers
the higher up the stronger their breaths
although they themselves are
similar in substance and alike in proportion
but the strength of their breaths
via the strengths of their spires
move those below
like specs of dust
begotten of dust
but born in spires
made by spires
as they themselves are naught
but similar in substance
and alike in proportion

Mundane

Me and my friends are collectively individualists.
It's amazing how how individualistic we collectively are
our individualistic collectivity amazes the world
We're all so artistic, with the long hair, weed, and guitar

Fuck you, mustachioed regime
you drag our individu-fucking-alism down
screw you checkered shirts and naval bound jeans
in your redundancy, i feel like i may drown

Cant you see how God damned cool we are?
spiked, goatee'd, rocked, and rolled
in your face assertive, we are
with no depth to unfold

screw your side partings, and taboo dodging
we say exaclty what we god damned fucking see
be it homos, lesbos, womens rights or homeless lodgings
muffle your opinions with sooper and drown them in yellow label tea

We'll sip our designer coffees in our designer cloths
in designer cafes with our designer crowd
collectivitism is something we collectively loath
individually lacking, we are collectively loud

shouting out about what we believe
our rights and your wrongs
ideas more complex, we cannot conceive
all we find important, are weed, sex, and commercial rock songs

Rebellion

Although my heart may never mend
And this spirit may burn and break
Never shall i bow before you
held in the palms of my hands
O lines of fate...

Confusion

It's difficult, sometimes getting over the past. Although I've gotten over most of the things that happened (of which only one aspect has appeared in this blog) for some reason, the past still keeps coming back to haunt me- or rather to hurt me. To remind me of my insecurities.

What is strength? Is it to be able to do what others can't? Or is it the ability to do what you thought you couldn't?

What is courage? Is it willignness to jump into the river, without knowing whther it's deep enough to break your fall?

Would David have been courageous if he had known that his pebble would kill Goliath?

Nothing is black and white- shades of grey dominate the landscape. And I find myself searching for landmarks within variations of a single theme.

And he returns...

Strangely enough, blogger seems to be working again. Or maybe it was just me not being able to access it, i dont know. But, in any case, looks like I'm back.

So, it's been quite a while, hasnt it? Alot has changed. I have changed. Isnt that hte way it's supposed to be?

The question is never whether or not you change- its how you change, and sometimes, how much. That, perhaps, is the question this blog was meant to address, but never to answer. Answers, friends, are like orgasms. They're alot of fun, but the buildup is way better.

So, have i changed? Stupid question. Loads.

How have i changed? I feel much more calloused now, more like a veteren in war. It's like now i have battle scars to match the callouses on my hands from hours of practice with the blades of reason. Only sometimes reason isnt enough.

How much have i changed? No answer to that. They say that the more things change, the more they stay the same. There is only one thing can hope for when one asks himself this question. Whether you're an optimist or pessimist, when confronted with the question of how much you've changed, there is only one correct answer.

That you've changed enough.

And then, you hope it's enough.