In a curious turn of foreseen events, my laptop, my dearest fucking laptop has; of course, lost it's voice. Again. It must be that time of the month again.
The absence of sound is - when one eventually stops whining and sulking over my-laptop-sucks - actually quite refreshing. You start to hear things which you might not have noticed like the sound a ladybird makes when it brakes in midair and falls into your fucken meal. Or the sound of the wind blowing through the creaks and crevices of your home which, if I may add, is quite the fucking scary thing. I digress. Point is, you start to pay attention to sound and while it's a good thing in the most part, you might just hear some things which you have been consciously trying to bury deep down in the twisted, convoluted, dark abyss which is thine mind.
But of course, it was an accident wasn't it?
Hence, after giving in to the smoking hot ladies called Despair and Agony, I decided to be one who shall create, and bring forth joy to the miserable world. I shall be the saviour of mankind, the one who brought back the love from the pits of the underworld.
However, I sat meself down and I thought. Was this decrepit world even worth saving? Was love better off in the underworld? And so thought I, which, due to an uncontrollable feral awesome mind which I have, it started to wander and it got dark. So yeah. I guess the prophecy did not come true then. You know how it is in the dark yeah, with all em monsters out there, it was way too much work. I did however, bang Love, and the prophecies were so utterly amazing that those ancient fuckers couldn't bear to distribute it to the common measly mass and decided to burn it, once and for all immortalizing me in their thoughts. Hence, no more evidence, which, unfortunately, I cannot proof and you cannot deny. Boo-hoo.
Digression.
I did however feel an urge to have some goddamn masala chai, which right here and right now, I will crown as King TeaWesome. Of course, I am sure that a few, or maybe, quite a handful of yous know not of such awesomeness which presents itself in the form of tea, so... Bugger off yeah? There's Google. And stuff like that, or ask your friendly neighbourhood Indian. We're everywhere and if you tell me there isn't one, I demand citation.
The thing with Masala chai is that it takes me back home, down memory lane on a fucken floating cardamom. I remember the best chai I had was at York Road, at my Dad's Nanny's place, who must be nothing short of immortal. I shit you not, she's literally as old as Ea itself. I also remember that my sister makes a mean cup of that shit too. I mean through the taste, I could trace back so many things, of my family's culture, our awesome difference with all of you and more than that, having that cuppa makes me feel... At home. The smell of cinnamon intermingled with clove and cardamom, the slightly fiery aftershock it gives after swallowing (For fuck's sake, kill the perverted thoughts yeah?). It reminds me of what is the norm back home.
Really, I've been watching the Lord of the Rings extended trilogy again with the lads and it occured to me that the first film came out ten years ago. I was fucken nine and a half, the world was still sane, and I was still trying to sort reality from imagination. I'm now nineteen and a half, the world is fucking insane, and still, after all those years, I find it hard to differentiate between imagination and reality. It's been... Ten years.
Sigh.
Still, when I have kids of my own, as soon as they start to understand the concept of words and alphabets, I'm going to dish out Tolkien to them. If they refuse, no food and shelter for you then.
Oh and mash potatoes are fuck awesome.
 |
| There is no explaining this picture. Why are they on tiptoes?! |
The absence of sound is - when one eventually stops whining and sulking over my-laptop-sucks - actually quite refreshing. You start to hear things which you might not have noticed like the sound a ladybird makes when it brakes in midair and falls into your fucken meal. Or the sound of the wind blowing through the creaks and crevices of your home which, if I may add, is quite the fucking scary thing. I digress. Point is, you start to pay attention to sound and while it's a good thing in the most part, you might just hear some things which you have been consciously trying to bury deep down in the twisted, convoluted, dark abyss which is thine mind.
But of course, it was an accident wasn't it?
Hence, after giving in to the smoking hot ladies called Despair and Agony, I decided to be one who shall create, and bring forth joy to the miserable world. I shall be the saviour of mankind, the one who brought back the love from the pits of the underworld.
 |
| Pictured above: An ancient Greek prophecy showing how I will save Love from the pits of the underworld. Then banging her. There's seventeen different prophecies on that matter, oh yeah, totes. |
However, I sat meself down and I thought. Was this decrepit world even worth saving? Was love better off in the underworld? And so thought I, which, due to an uncontrollable feral awesome mind which I have, it started to wander and it got dark. So yeah. I guess the prophecy did not come true then. You know how it is in the dark yeah, with all em monsters out there, it was way too much work. I did however, bang Love, and the prophecies were so utterly amazing that those ancient fuckers couldn't bear to distribute it to the common measly mass and decided to burn it, once and for all immortalizing me in their thoughts. Hence, no more evidence, which, unfortunately, I cannot proof and you cannot deny. Boo-hoo.
Digression.
I did however feel an urge to have some goddamn masala chai, which right here and right now, I will crown as King TeaWesome. Of course, I am sure that a few, or maybe, quite a handful of yous know not of such awesomeness which presents itself in the form of tea, so... Bugger off yeah? There's Google. And stuff like that, or ask your friendly neighbourhood Indian. We're everywhere and if you tell me there isn't one, I demand citation.
 |
| Remember that bitches, or he'll tornado your ass into your nose and your nose into the Sun. |
The thing with Masala chai is that it takes me back home, down memory lane on a fucken floating cardamom. I remember the best chai I had was at York Road, at my Dad's Nanny's place, who must be nothing short of immortal. I shit you not, she's literally as old as Ea itself. I also remember that my sister makes a mean cup of that shit too. I mean through the taste, I could trace back so many things, of my family's culture, our awesome difference with all of you and more than that, having that cuppa makes me feel... At home. The smell of cinnamon intermingled with clove and cardamom, the slightly fiery aftershock it gives after swallowing (For fuck's sake, kill the perverted thoughts yeah?). It reminds me of what is the norm back home.
Really, I've been watching the Lord of the Rings extended trilogy again with the lads and it occured to me that the first film came out ten years ago. I was fucken nine and a half, the world was still sane, and I was still trying to sort reality from imagination. I'm now nineteen and a half, the world is fucking insane, and still, after all those years, I find it hard to differentiate between imagination and reality. It's been... Ten years.
 |
| Just in case you fucken forgot. |
Still, when I have kids of my own, as soon as they start to understand the concept of words and alphabets, I'm going to dish out Tolkien to them. If they refuse, no food and shelter for you then.
Oh and mash potatoes are fuck awesome.
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