In search of the Inspiratory/Unfindable Muse

Again, i cease to be able to write. All over again, especially when i thought with the last post i will be able to write. All over again. At times i wonder what is wrong with me?(again for the umpteenth^umpteenth time, i ask myself this question on this same blog. All over again I seem to be fixated with this very normal expresson this time) 

Maybe it is not what is wrong with me, instead it is what maybe wrong with what i have in life...or maybe it is what i don't have. 

What i realized i lacked is  - "A MUSE". 

(I swear the clouds just cleared all over again) 

So, the day I realized what I lack in my life, I decided to search for the ultimate in all available muses. 

First i tried finding human muses. Looked into my wife...not happening since we seem to fight once every 3 days (don't ask why). NOTE : MUSES and their MUSERS dont fight a lot. The Muser is always amused with his muse. That is exactly why they don't fight much.

Then i tried looking into more primitive forms of humans (they are called myroommates) and found out that to be able to muse upon a muse, the muse needs a certain level of intellect, ie an IQ which may be above 50 or so. so you see the obvious problem arose...I wasnt vegetable enough.

Then i took my search to a new level. If i can include my hare-brained vegetable IQ roommates, why not look at animals? So, i decided to look upon the magnificient creatures on 4 legs for answers, inspiration and intellect. 

First stop, DOGS - too darned scared of them. 

CATS - too darned scared of me. 

PIGEONS - they shit on my bike. Muses never shat on their owners properties...unless and until you are a big fan of 2 Girls 1 cup ,you wouldnt want your muse shitting on stuff (including yourself).

After exhausting the possible wildlife in the jungle Chennai, i decided the muse of all muses must be an inanimate object. Like Archimedes had a bathtub for inspiration to run naked and invent some stupid theory, i also would find the muse of all muses. 

Hence my quest started. First object of affection was the bike and in a bitter attempt to make my humble steed the mother muse, i took  her and a certain wife for a long ride. We visited 2 beaches and were on our way back when my probable-muse decided that to make things more interesting by shredding her timing chain breathing her last breath and sputtering to lifelessness. I couldn't make her my muse if i had to push her 160kg ass on two wheels every time i needed inspiration...

I left the thought of making an inanimate object as my muse with the first round of auditions itself.

Then the beautiful thought arose. (heavenly arc music fades out) WHY NOT MAKE MYSELF MY MUSE? With that, all i needed to do was to look in the mirror and i could become inspired. I had hit the mother of all muses. Myself. I had a muse which didn' t need any more maintenence than myself. So, i lock the room one night and decide to look at myself for inspiration...

Oh my god, is that another pimple? Why is my nose covered with those spots?Would i look good in Chuck's hairstyle? Or is mine good anyways? when will i have a complete beard? am i a little too puny for my age? Maybe i am hot...

That above set of statements more or less explain my train of thought. I found a narcissist when i searched for a muse. This led to a situation that can only be explained by making up a latin sounding phrase - STALEMATIFIED MAJORCUS.

Then i took a cigarette and started smokin. By the end of the smoke, i had my eureka moment. Why not make up an entire entry on the search for the invisible muse? 

I found my muse : it costs me Rs 4 + lung cancer treatement charges...

JB signin off...

MeE

Rants

Confesssion of the day : I am a News Whore.

This means that i spend a ot of my free time just reading articles and watching News channels (only problem now is the lack of a television). I end up reading the weirdest stuff and sometimes the most unimportant stuff. For example i do know what is happening in the U.S presidential elections on a day to day basis. I have screenshots of Sarah Palin's(who??) Inbox which i downloaded from wiki leaks.

I know that there is a don't use the beach in Dubai warning now. I know now that 2^43,112,609-1 (it has thirteen million digits) is the largest prime number found so far (atleast it is claimed to be so). But i have no idea why i have to know. This problem has become a major issue in my life after the news service Google news has been on. It is like a newspaper of newspapers only reporting what you want to be reported. 

what i don't understand is why i need to know all this. Actually what i don't understand is why we need to know so much of everything. Sometimes i feel that a lot of the important stuff gets buried under this heap of information. 

In the past the main problem used to be that very little information used to be there about anything. Now i feel that the problem is that we have to much information on everything. I haven't found a single subject on earth which doesn't have a wikipedia page. you can even search for Nungambakkam on wikipedia and find an article on it. Im not even starting off about google.

Sometimes i am led to believe that the internet is a bad thing. Okay, not entirely true. But too much of the internet is definetely bad for a human being. I know people who spend 10 hours of their day on Facebook. Everyday (more on sundays). I have a roommate who i talk to only in college because he is stuck to his laptop and i am to mine whenever we at home. I have an ever so whiny girlfriend ( if the girlfriend reads this read it as : sweet beautiful pretty sensible girlfriend)  who complains that i spend too much time on the laptop now.

People have become more locked up with the internet. (Now, it's time for a cliche) People seem to know random people from halfway acrooss the globe and not know who lives across the hallway in their buildings. Even if one wanted to know who lives in the other apartment, he would be too busy shagging with Maria from Venezuela via webcam. 

Another evil is the whore of a site called Facebook. You can call it by many names. Orkut and Facebook being the popular names for it. Social networking is the biggest whore on earth. One can see that horny paedophilic teenagers are lusting after you sister on her wall and scrapbook. you can find your loved one flirting under the blanket of anonymity. You can see weird status messages like "I miss you Shona...you are my free bird...". you choose to meet people on these sites rather than in person over a cup of coffee.

And you can even look pretty. 

People post these ultra cool images of themselves on these sites (im not that hot there either). You really think that you havve met the hottest of them all there and then you realize that 'oooops...she is not an Ayesha Takia lookalike...that picture was Ayesha Takia herself '

Not everything about it is bad...the other i found my long lost pet Iguana Thongface and send her a message. She reached the Borneos. She is happy and married to another Iguana called FishSticks from Germany. I saw their pictures. That is the best part of social networking. You can find anybody and be found by anybody there. even if you hate that person or vice versa.

Shit...

I am ranting...as usual nobody pays attention to me or what i say in the real world (i mite just be too intellectual for them or maybe a lil too talkative) and i rant that out here...

Other evils of the great advent of technology may be this blog you are reading (u must have wasted 3 minutes of your life reading this * +5 for retards like me...-1 for geniuses who realize what the are going through by the 120th second and discontinue)....
 
one of these days i am going to come up with a real blogpost....not stupid shit like this...

JB signin off....

MeE

21

Today, i turned 21.

21 means a lot of things to a lot of people.

For me it is another normal year. I just feel a lot older. Gone are the aspirations of becoming a taxi driver or a garbage collector just because it was cool. In is financial woes and balancing a budget. Along with the aspiration of an MBA and all that jazz.

21 in India is the legal age for entering into matrimony for males (i am a male, i can prove that...if you are a girl, give me a call). 21 is the legal clubbing age across the entire world (i hope so). 21 is the legal age to drink as well. So, technically i should be happy that i am 21.

But why am i not? Maybe this is the fucked up part in me. Sometimes i wish i could be a kid all over again. Sometimes i wish otherwise.


Today is one such day where i wish i could be innocent. where i would have no worries. all i want to do is play cars with mini cars and remote controls and make a huge 'traffic jam line of cars' thingy. Maybe that is why i made it a point to be as childish as i could be on 24th September 2008.

Somehow i feel that today was my last day of being a child. And i used it to its full potential.

Enough of that emotional crap.

Things that normal people do on their 21st birthday that i felt was not needed:
1) a bath
2) wear clean clothes
3) Celebrate
4) not work

this list could go on for ages and i could come up with wild things that wouldn't make any sense. so i decided to stop here.

So what did i do on the first day of my 21st year on earth? Nothing that i did was spectacular. at least voluntarily. Otherwise i got kicked on my bum while suspended from air. Egg smacked while being blindfolded. and a chocolate cake that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY YEDA FUCKER.
Don't ask me what Yeda means...



I wonder what one should actually feel on their 21st year of life? I don't feel serious enough to be an adult. not childish enough to be a kid. I don't feel rebellious anymore. Not too horny these days. it feels like a limbo. somewhere between childhood, teenage hood and adulthood. There should be a manual that says "THINGS TO DO AND THINK ABOUT @ 21"

I still feel 20. sometimes even 19. i have definitely become more un stupid. i stopped playing with people's feelings. i am smoking a lot these days. i am not slightly homosexual. i am concerned about people. I am not that angry anymore. I have started loving 'The Brady Bunch'. I have stopped daydreaming. I am in a relationship for almost a year.

So i guess i am a mixture of all those years i have passed. Maybe everyone is a little bit of every year. When i speak in different voices and believe that my turtle can reply,I must be 4. When i dream of flying and conversing with superheroes i must be 6. When i am thinking of watching FTV and ahem, i must be 15. When i sit down and laugh at my first time smoking/driving/school i must be 19. When i sit down and laugh at stupid rivalries and gangster-giri i must be 20. When i care about other people and life and how to change the world to make it a better place, i must be 21. Or maybe there is more to 21 than that.

I don't know what this year holds for me. Soon enough i will feel like an uncle. Another 21 years will pass and i will remember all this. maybe i wont. Whatever this year holds, i am sure that i will have many more memories of friends, families and lot of other things. Good, bad or outright
ugly, here i come 22...


Uncle MeE

JB signin off...

PS : I'm a bit rusty, so forgive me for this bullcrap.

Waiting for the moment

Waiting…that’s what life seems to be all about. Just waiting. Waiting for the right moment to make a grand entrance in to this not so grand world…waiting for the right moment to start crawling, walking, talking, schooling, shagging…and other waits such as for a passport, visa, flight, bus, friends, teenage hood, adulthood…

Other sorts of not so pleasant types includes scenarios such as being constipated (I hope the reader can work out the wait by himself/herself ), for either person to say sorry after a fight, wait in line in a booze shop across the road from home with an inquisitive family peeking out every second, wait for the results of a series of 3 hour examinations that are going to decide the choices and outcomes of life (at least the financial aspects of it)…

Some waiting situations (if I can call it that!) are really lame and non understandable…one is waiting for moving from first base to the second and the agonizingly desperate one for the move on to the third base and then the really fucked up wait for the attainment of “the feeling of being CONSUMMATED”…then there is the really non understandable agonizing wait for the menstrual cycles of one’s girlfriend (this can be avoided by the use of protection) or the wait for them to get over (this happens with the use protection)…the more serious but equally non understandable wait for the results of medical tests testing life threatening diseases and conditions…

How does one decide how long to wait for something? At least for situations which maybe in control? Who decided that a human being has to wait for 16-20 years to have a smoke (depending on which country from which one is and always the question or answer of underage smoking is there)…and the same applies for drinking as well… it just cannot be understood that a person should wait for years on endlessly because the government decides so.

The whole conspiracy of the government is to not make people idle. I am sure the UN and every nation on the face of the planet has an agency (more covert than the M16, Mossad and Al-Qaeda put together) which is called UnIdle Citizen Agency (U.C.A) which has an aim of making people not idle enough to realize their government is stupid and all the synonyms related. That is why they have age bars for everything. If it weren’t for the endless lusting for a driver’s license and that of legal smoking, drinking, clubbing and so on today’s youth would be more sensible and would actually do something productive…it’s just a conspiracy folks…

The stupidest wait in the world is that of getting married…I keep wondering if marriages are made in heaven, does it mean that the date (as in legally marriageable age) is decided by the government?

What makes us wait? Why do we have to wait for everything? If somebody would take a statistic on people waiting for something or the other and figure out a percentage of our lives spent on just plain old waiting, it would be amusing and equally disturbing...another equally pointless waste of precious little time on earth is SLEEPING (according to me, the InsOmNiAc)...

Some other day, some other time...this hot chick in a sari is calling me...(read : AIR HOSTESS ABOVE THE 40 YEAR AGE MARK)

All this while waiting in the boarding lounge in Sri Lanka for 3 hours...

JB signin off…

MeE

(added later) an even more agonizing waiting I had the luxury of experiencing was the 1.5 hour wait for my two suitcases in Calicut International Airport…they decided to use 1 baggage belt for 4 flights when they had two more belts lounging around…now, do you believe the UCA exists?

JB signin off...

MeE

WTF?!!!

What the fuck (WTF?) is happening to me???It's been so darned long since i actually wrote something.
I don't even feel like logging onto blogger.com anymore.
I don't know why...i just don't write anymore...

Its more like i cant write anymore...I've got this major writer's block or rather BLOGGER's block. I am trying to cure it - you will notice from the written content below.

I am at 503, Suruthi Block, Choolai Medu, Chennai - that is the bachelor pad/fuck shack/ovenishly hot apartment that i live in nowadays. And as usual I'm alone and a bordering insomniac... nothing seems to have changed...sometimes everything seems to have changed.

The little blogger clock next to the save button says 'Draft autosaved at 1:52 AM'... i guess that sums up the time that i am entering this blog...

Now whoever reads this (if anyone reads this!) might be wondering...what the fuck (wtf?) happened after The Fast and the Fucked : Manipal Drift? Where is the sequel?

Ans : I did have a sequel for it ready even before the i uploaded Manipal Drift, but i did not get enough time or rather did not have the inclination toward uploading it.

Until today. But i still wont be uploading it because i think i still need to refine the article a little bit. Fuck that...thats just another empty promise i make...i seem to make only empty promises these days.

Today is the birthday of a person who is one of the human being's i am the closest to.

And hence, I am wallowing and drowning myself in guilt right now.

So why the guilt?

I did not call him.

I am evil...undeserving...obnoxious...self centered...

I am myself.

Why didn't I???

Ans : I was out and enjoying at one of the coolest (read lamest) joints in Chennai called Mocha with my girlfriend ( a new one since the last entry...the usual), a new friend (once again a new one since the last entry), a couple of British people and Swedes (seriously speaking, Swedish chicks aren't that hot..). I forgot to recharge the dumb phone of mine which is forever out of credit. I realized by 11:30pm that i need to recharge...but then Chennai sleeps by 10:30 or something...ie, if you live in a late activity zone...(i wonder where whores in Chennai recharge late at night in case of an emergency or something?)

Fuckin shit...screw that..why should i make my new entry so boring...

Meanwhile, i checked out my little visitor counting thing on the page and saw that somebody accidently grazed onto this page last week...the 28th of march...whoever that good soul is, i thank that person for this momentary highness...if you could do that more often, i could kinda try getting off weed...or maybe even booze...maybe even cigarettes...what the fuck, i'll even stop fantasizing about those hot little bikini clad chicks...

the last one, i won't.

SO here i am...awaiting my next trip to Dubai...which is 16 days away. only 16 days away. after spending one and a half years ( a few days short of) doing this...16 days with 5 exams embedded in them feels like a nice fart. a nice fart like the one that comes after having a wholesome biryani at home. a nice fart like the one that you have when in a lift full of people.

I just checked out the preview of this entry...holy fucking crap...if you have read this far...i am amazed at your diligence and patience. I could institute a JB and Nobel Prize for Patience and give it to you for the next 50 years or so...

the writing next to the SAVE NOW button says Draft autosaved at 2:21 AM. I have almost spent 30 minutes and i haven't written anything substantial...I should stop writing. I should stay off the internet.

I wish life had one of those SAVE NOW buttons for life. Every time i did something right, I could hit that little button and then that would say Life saved at 2:23 PM. I think it could say Life saved at 2:24 PM, said NO to endless supply of free weed for life.

Then when you rethink this whole thing and say Yes to the same thing at 2:25 PM and then go on and smoke your brain cells dead in the next 3 years, you could just hit reset and start at the saved part again...just like in the games...then i think that there will be a missing portion in your life...so fuck the SAVE NOW button...

I am bored... i came online...wrote some shit sbout some shit on my blog, some shit that i was thinking about..some shit i was not thinking about, some delusional fantasies of this schizo bordering crippled fantasy oriented mind of mine... and now i feel like stopping. i feel like deleting this whole thing i have written.

But i wont...

because :

Draft autosaved at 2:34 AM

I have SPENT more than half an hour doing this... i cant hit delete...thats why.

Maybe because i want to feel alive once again...this is my way of feeling alive - by letting people know that i am alive.

By writing and seeing my writing, i know that some part of me is living.

Fighting.

Struggling.

Winning.

I am Back. I don't know for how long. maybe this is the last you will see from me for the next 355 days-thats how long it's been since the last one.

And yeah, about the title... i did not know what to call this one...since i started off with 'what the fuck (WTF)', i thought that was a cool title....its always inauspicious to start off with a title-less entry in a new year...ask the Chinese.

I will give you excuses for not blogging for 355 days soon... give me some ideas. Atleast some comments...

i can help you with the comments part...try 'GOOD', 'AMAZING BLOG JB', or my favorite one - 'I MISSED YOU, I AM A VIRGIN,I LIKE YOU'RE WRITING...I LIVE ALONE, CALL ME ON *******. BTW, I HAVE EPIC TITS!!!'

I could write a blog on fantasy comments....

WOW!

MeE

JB signin off...