joy

unadulterated


unfiltered


no holds barred sheer joy


the celebrations


the incredible adrenaline rush


the madness of it all



the problem is, to be able to feel that way, you’ve got to be prepared for the depths as well. to be able to feel those unexplainable moments of heaven, you’ve got to go through the worst pits of despair.



when we open ourselves up, to attachments, material, personal or otherwise, it opens the gate to a whole lot more. like a double edged sword.




remember that day? the best day you ever had? think about it. yeah, you do don’t you? the day when everything seemed right in the world. maybe you even felt you could do anything, absolutely anything you wanted to.



now imagine a day as dark as this day was awesome. sucked into the night. world falling apart. all alone. the universe conspiring against you. all of it.


why, why, why would you allow yourself to feel that? to put yourself through that?





just so that you get through it, and feel like this.

the copywriter

i don’t write copy.












































i bring dreams to life.












i like making grand and dramatic statements. some would argue that i need the appropriate actions to go with them.





i think all i need is a good accompanying soundtrack.

tasty

or so i've heard. i don't think i've ever actually eaten licorice before.

licorice. i wonder how they came up with the name. i mean all these weird sounding ones. even the straight sounding ones. when you think about them they're actually quite intriguing. like a dongle. yes i can see your expression when you read that. know what it means? well it has nothing to do with what you think it does. but imagine walking up to a girl and asking her


"hey! wanna see my dongle?"


not very good. Plus she'd probably kick you in the place where you think your dongle's supposed to be.


but coming back to licorice. it doesn't even have anything to do with rice does it? then why call it that? is it a kinda rice you can lick? doubt it. when does rice taste so good? well actually it does sometimes. with chicken. and potatoes. and some curry. mmmmmmmmm...








i like being random and arbitrary.

genius

what do you do when you’ve outdone not just yourself, but almost every single person in your field? set the bar that much higher, pushed the standard a notch further.

what do you do when all everyone else can is sit back and marvel at it all. a masterpiece; one of its kind.

what do you do when there’s only one word that can appropriately describe what you’ve just done?


























yeah. me too.

the gradual acceptance of beauty

or can it be called that?

i may meet someone i think is ugly or, to put it politely, not good looking, but to a someone who has known the ugly person for a while, they could be the most beautiful human in the world.


i guess it’s based on getting to know people. you’ve been with them so long you actually judge their looks on the basis of their personality. their traits actually take on a physical appearance.


and it works the other way as well. How many times have you thought a guy or a girl was good looking until you got talking and got to know them better?






yeah. that’s what i thought.

almost

how can a day that was almost kissing distance from perfection, end with such a bitter taste in the mouth?

like a soap opera. not even as bad as one. but just about there.
not a perfect day. but it came close.
not even a bad day. but it threatened to become one.


but could this day have been better than it was? despite all this anger and frustration at the end of it.


yes. it could’ve. but not by much. not by much at all.



like i said. kissing distance.







almost.

the stink

my adidas shirt stinks. all the time. through no fault of mine, mind you.

wash it, wash it again, wash it some more. and, like the uninvited ex who’s still infatuated with you and insists on gate crashing your wedding despite the numerous threats of court restraining orders, the stupid stink keeps coming back for more.

have i vented enough spleen? probably not, but that should do.
the work beckons.

happiness

wouldn’t it be awesome to be able to just float away? to be one day not just free of all your troubles, but to have absolutely everything going your way?

wouldn’t it?






















































yes. it would.

changing the world, one ass kicking at a time

his name is dave trott.

he’s an award winning copywriter and his blog is interesting too. it’s the way he links incidents around him to advertising. he’ll start off on this random story which usually is kinda interesting, go off into a weird tangent and then bring it back to advertising and suddenly it’s not such a random story anymore. well advertising is supposed to be a reflection of life i guess.

one of the characters that keeps popping up is his sister. he talks about her a lot. and she seems like one of those in your face, correcting all the wrongs in the world through brute strength all by herself kinda people.

but what really gets to me is that all these things that she keeps doing, chasing muggers, beating the crap out of impolite smokers… it’s all stuff that i think about doing.


everyday.


i see this bugger cut across us in the car and i feel like overtaking him, forcing him to pull over and smashing his face on his bonnet. i see a guy spit on the road and i want to grab his head and make him lick it all up again. but that’s all it ever remains. a thought.


and that’s what really fascinates me. i doubt i’ll ever be like his sister, but i really want to meet someone just like her. someone who’s sitting with me in the car when that bugger cuts across. and just like my dream we over take the poor soul, force him to stop, and i watch as my driving partner introduces the schmuck’s nose to his car’s carburettor.






ouch.
that would hurt.








oh and he seems more than infatuated with new york.

maybe i should visit it one day.

It was raining.

A funny rain. The kind of rain that's cool to touch, but makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It wasn't clear, but a minty green. He extended his arm outside the window and caught a few drops in his palm.

The shadows momentarily lifted from his face as lightning streaked the sky. The Minister was a troubled man. He was a thinker, not a leader. And yet, here he was at the forefront.

He needed advice. Someone he could turn to. Someone who would lend him a helping hand.

*CRASH*

His hand went to the hilt of his sword as he turned swiftly. His eyes narrowed. Who would...oh

The Jester. Grinning. Him and his stupid shoes again.

'Why did he insist on wearing them?'

The Minister rubbed his temples gingerly. This was not going to be easy.

Mental note: Find a new Jester.

courage

u know whats the toughest thing to do in life?
what?
what?
taking responsibility for urself
by which i mean for ur own peace of mind and happiness
yeah?
not blaming anyone or anything else
why'd you say that all of a sudden?
thats not important
if u gather up the courage to do that... nothing will take ur peace of mind ever
it requires taking a lot of uncomfortable decisions
and walking down random paths
yeah
courage
lots of it man
oohhh yeah
i find that hard to do
trust me its not easy for anyone
but ppl who can manage are the strongest characters around
spend time with them... it will rub off

when we were younger, my little sister and I would often fight. most of them ended up with her in tears and running to my mother exclaiming, “he made me cry”.
my mother would always respond in the same way. “no one can make you cry. you cry because you want to cry.”
no one can make you feel unhappy or sad or good about yourself. you can let people influence your emotions and affect the way you react in some way. but in the end, it’s all up to you. which most people find hard to accept. realising that and taking responsibility for it. now that’s hard. or maybe its just me.

i find that hard to do.

A pie

Of all the things in the world. At this hour of the night. Where would he get it from?!

Where?! Where was the damn pie?!

And even if he did find one there'd always be something wrong with it. And yet he searched.

He trudged on unsteadily, his stupid hat jingling all the way. The pointed shoes (which were mandatory as per law 24, article 3c which was enacted after the Great Yellow buttoned polka dotted pink underwear incident) impeded his walk and regularly reacquainted his nose (quite red already) with the stone floors of the castle.

The King had been missing for more than a week now. Ever since he met those buggers of the Wah Ching, a change had come over him. Muted, more quiet than before. Not that he spoke much anyway. Or had anything of value to say either.

But of course the Jester kept such opinions to himself.

Two weeks after seeing the Winogradsky Columns, the King mysteriously vanished. Of course most blamed the War Chiefs.

Personally the Jester liked his absence. No more idiotic announcements like the last one. And it also meant that the Minister was in charge. Much smarter chap. Better sense of humour too.

Now, where was that pie?

He trudged on.

One, two, three... testing.


And so, he stretched forth his hand and declared that his thoughts be open. That his every whim and desire, both insipid and inspired be free. That his shortcomings and failures, his triumphs and his conquests be no more hidden by the veil. That his ideas and insights, both moronic and brilliant, be not held within.


That this be an extension of who he was, who he is and who he aspired to be.




And having thus spoken, he settled himself upon his throne.