There and back again..

You're sitting
You're waiting
You don't want to leave
but you have no choice

You put on your headphones..
The mind is lost in a place soon to be distant
hmmm the music is nice
Reminds you of the previous night
Ahh that was a night
Lights were bright
Wicked and unexpected it was

Music starts picking up
hmmm feels like you're back on the beach
Music is going on
Feels like you're back on the road
The sway of the windswept trees
Rustling with the music
Your lights mark the way..

You're driving
You're unsure of where you are
You're unsure of where you're from
You're unsure of where you're going
but... you're driving

Life suddenly feels better
That empty road tells you where you are
That empty road tells you where you're from
That empty road finally tell you where you're going..

The road that led you there
Leads you back out..
Out of a place special
Out of a place with sand on your feet
Out of a place we call.. Goa

Session with the frog..

You just finished your session in the parking lot.
Feels good. Its time to head in.
The walk is a random blur.
The door reverberates.
It invites.
Well guess there's nothing to do but enter..

Wow its all blue and tingy.
Its all electric..
You feel electric..
That music feels electric.

It starts like a current..
It moves random like a current..
One touch starts you up..
The back is nice, but the front looks better..

You make your way through..
The earlier session helps you weave through the crowd.
It feels as if they move with you and the music, parting to let you slide through.
Finally there's no further to go.
You're right up..

Its just you and the wooden structure called the stage.
Its a bit blurry who's up on it..
But then again your eyes need to open to see.
But they just don't listen.
I feel my mind move..
It starts with a little sway..
And then doesn't stop.
Keeping with my mind, my hands start.
They rise and fall.
Feet not far behind.
They rise and fall.
Soon... I rise and fall.
That beat thumps.
That beat jumps.
I don't stop.
I can't stop.
I feel alone, and that's how I want it.
Everything's blurred out.
Its just me and that sound, rising and falling as one.
I'm tired but I don't stop.
I feel alive finally.
Its still blue and tingy..
I feel, finally.
A smile hits my face..
And it remains there..And always will..
Whenever I am with my blue frog..

Prepared? Whats that?

Sooo, my friend messages me that's she's reading my blog.. This sudden sense of foreboding hits me. For some reason, I just assumed it would be random strangers reading it (very smart, since I put up the link on my facebook profile).. But that feeling felt a bit weird. However prepared you might be for anything in life, it still gets you. To the smallest thing like a blog, to big things like maybe a blog (Hey a blog can be a big thing).. But there's no such thing as being prepared I guess. Whatever happens, happens. Happens for a reason or not, makes no difference. It just happens. Maybe the next time it happens, you could be smart about it, but never prepared.. So well I honestly don't know what will happen if she reads this.. but hey, at least I'll be "prepared"..

Why I love the night..

I came across something I had written down for my Dad a while back. It was in response to him asking me why I was always up late into the night..


Why do I love the night?

Because that's when light actually makes a difference

Because the silence makes me appreciate sound

Because the calm surrounds me and my mind

Because thoughts come closer to me

Because when everyone sleeps, I feel alive

Because friends of far, come close

Because I finally Be, to really See, whats in me..



Needless to say, he told me to stop trying to be poetic, and go to sleep..

Oooo.. Writers block

“I’m suffering from writers block” says a friend.. How the hell did that happen? She’s not even a writer. She writes a bloody blog, and proclaims herself a writer. I’m not a writer. I might be trying to be a blogger, but no way would I suffix the word “writer” to my name. I’m being realistic. I don’t want a Booker Prize (Although that would be fun.. I’d get to rub it in the “writers” face). I just put my thoughts to paper.. or keyboard. It’s simple. What the hoopla all about? I love it when self proclaimed “artists” go with an air of high handedness, trying to justify their lack of brain power. True writers, the ones whose words captivated the hearts of few or many, would probably be turning in their graves, or in their beds. It’s quite shameful. But how do you differentiate a writer from a “writer”. Again, it’s simple. The ones who talk with their written words distinguish themselves from the ones who talk with their mouth. So if you want to be a true writer, shut up and write..

My Girl

I get a call.. Its her. My heartbeat races. She wants to meet. My heartbeat pounds. Today? Sure I'm free. I drive down, and wait. A little nervous, my hands get clammy. When will I see my girl. This wait is killing me.. But then.... I see her. There she is. Standing beautiful. Sunlight gently moving with the wind around her. I make my way over to her. She's even more beautiful up close. I can hardly contain myself. My hands move to her. Slowly caress her.. Then my hands move down..towards the handle.. And I open the door and sit down in my girl. Ferrari Enzo.. And then I wake up. And then my dull existence makes me head to work, to earn a meager salary, to live in the hope that someday, I'll get my girl..

Picasa

I came across an amazing picture on facebook recently. It was a picture of my friend standing in front of a fire. And that friend has used Picasa to edit it. The colours of the fire felt as if about to consume him. And his frame gave the impression that he welcomed the fires from beneath us. That picture stuck in my head. It was just a simple picture of a man inquisitive about a fire that was burning near him.

I was curious. I wanted to try my hand at tweaking an image, so as to give another perception of the same. So I acquired the software. Simple enough. You take an image, and then just start randomly working different buttons. A wide array of options greet you as soon as you start. You feel like a little kid, wondering what this particular button would do, what that one would do. It's fun and quite straight forward. Made for easy use and gives great effects.

I had a photograph with me. It was of the sky with pinkish hues. I felt it would be the correct one to tinker with. And I was happy with the final product. Felt good. Maybe someday I'll be able to create a picture like the one my friend had done. Hopefully..