The beginning

The fog is slowly lifting it's veil.And the bright light that shines through seems to be the torch of knowledge,mathematics to be precise.I have always been facinated by the"absolutes",and all the societal absolutes like death and God and virtues and morals seemed always to me to be standing on a very shallow ground.I found that all my beliefs when tested came out as croppers.And I,like a manic,wanted to test each of 'em.It disappointed me and broke my heart--all the shattering of core beliefs,but I wanted to know the truth of absolutes.From whence this craving came,I do not know.It certainly wasn't genetics.And it drove me to extremes,and a whole range of medicines followed(only cuz my dad had the means).But I feel that the fog has been lifting now.I haven't found the absolutes yet,but the cravings have mellowed.maybe the fire inside which was an inferno is turning a placid blueish bonfire.It usually marks the end,isn't it?The end of all destruction when everything is broken down and decimated.But also the arrival of something fresh in it's place.I hope,and though hope has been the most evanescent of 'em all,but I still hope that the destruction is over and there won't be any attempt#15.

The Intolerable hissings of an unquiet mind

To no one else from the underearth
this is what I write
and delete and contemplate and delete again
for the lack of structure is beautiful
in music and movies
of a greyish hue,some diffused foucs
of the aperture,I guess
Some slow jazz song flows softly,peacefully
"Mr.Happy thats what I want to be",he sings
I,sitting cross legged,under many colored stars
blink-blink,they smile lovingly at me
poise and grace are the virtues
of greek statues,dead and cold
The tangents of the fishing chord
in one giant sweep will fill
the galaxies with harmonies,in odd symmetries
and new languages will emerge
from the fragrance of plastic flowers
the fields of which will house the cross
of pain,blood and purple orchids
Until some mathematical conjectures
will dismiss the hysteria
or unleash a new religion of perfect numbers
and the Golden ratios will emerge again
in tattoos on the arm of Spainards
and the snail shells of Corsica
Until then my dear mind
fly,as there is no tomorrow and
Beethoven's Ninth Symphony is overrated.

Attempt#14

A million space-ages ago

the sacred fire glowed

ruffled the dry autumn leaves

ancient memories stored

Delicate structures come and go

infinitines seem too slow

maybe the day has come my love

when the daffodils grow

And while the ocean sighs and breathes

and summerbirds sing in tow

I just think of happier days

the blade in hand I throw

Television viewing and it's sideeffects

I had a sudden insight which struck me as I was watching a video of Jimi hendrix perfom.It was a typical Hendrix song( i can't fuckin remember the name of it),by which I mean an open air Woodstock kinda outdoor enviornment,a lot of barely clothed men and women sitting on the grass and enjoying his music.There was no need for singing along or headbanging,oh fuck it they weren't even standing.It was beautiful to listen and watch and then it struck to me that I am a hippie trapped in some wrong time-zone.I really don't give a rat's ass about what people think and I am quite laid back at heart.But the fuckin trials and tribulations of the times which I live in make me edgy.It's not that I hate it completely,cuz if it was that-- i would've ended my life.There are snippets of good things which make me cling on,hoping for something MORE and BETTER.That makes me pretty average,eh?I always am disgusted with mediocrity,and I..in all my intrinsic sense,am not at all average.I am different.Not special.And thats disturbing.I wish I were different and 'special',but fuck it to hell ,I am plain and different.And it's such a shitty place to be.I hate ranting,but here I am doing just that and I don't fuckin care whosoever reads it would want to pity me.I don't want you pity..i want your love.All of ya'll.