Science has hidden some glorious facts from us, because nobody wants you to be lazy. Anybody who tells you not to be lazy is just telling you so because he/she knows you might find “truth”. After all, our race couldn’t propagate for an (estimated) 1.1 million years because people like me found truth (an amino acid had to be formed again, then the proteins, then some other shit, and then one of us finally decided to get their shit together). Think about it (now don’t really do it!), one has to be a crazy ass mothefuckin nigga to write something like “Bible”, and it has to be someone who minds smelling his own shit who said “laziness is our biggest enemy (comes from Gita and some shit like that). This post is starting to lose its essence….

They tell you that “you should do what you love”, but why aren’t they giving away the secret? The only way you can possibly fuckin do what you love is by not doing everything else, sint it? All these days we’re buying perceptions about “what you should/ought to”, and missing the shortest way to success: Laziness (beat yourself up; again, don’t forget to stop halfway through). Meditate, hang up your hang-ups and connect with your inner soul, see where you are heading, once you find laziness, nothing can stop you (of course, some therapy along with some California Kush will keep you on track). Laziness is the only thing that makes you more alive, our brains are programmed to rest, to conserve energy, hence the No.4 in the list of consequences (see below brother from another mother, or woman from another woman).

A lazy wishlist?

• Can I call it blag instead of blog (a just feels right for some reason, “o” fills up more air inside my mouth)
• Can I use Diapers in the night please? (if you said no, then you don’t know me)
• Lots of times, I won’t talk, no matter what you’re saying, just assume that I am practicing the art (and relishing it)
• This one is really important “Can I have someone who browses internet for me and flips of the pages of the book I am reading when I am not lazy?” (don’t worry, training and details can be worked out)
• Can movies be just 5 minutes long, please?
• I have a good sense of humor; can you just understand that I am just being lazy when I don’t laugh?
• Can I just think about doing things please? (Requires believing in the old wisdom that says “thinking is as good as deed done”

Consequences of laziness:

More and more people won’t go to church and temple and concept of heaven and hell will face a rebuttal.

• Richard Dawkins will stop writing books, he already knows the truth, but he is not lazy enough to not try to tell the truth to everyone.
• Unix operating systems will gain popularity as it is only used by the people who are most lazy (even the programmer who wrote Unix is reported to be extremely lazy)
• More people will start understanding that Freewill doesn’t exist.
• Sports will take a serious hit; the rules of all the games will have to be changed.
• A complete Idiots guide to laziness will be the only book taught at schools, when taught seriously, it could take up to 15 years of schooling to nail the basics.

I wanted to write more, but I have already used too many muscles, and this exercise has to be followed by some serious acts of laziness.

The Laziness litmus test

• You have to shit in the frying pan at least two times in your holy life time (Eat shit, and you are guaranteed a front chair at reception in heaven)
• From the previous list, you have to be a good programmer (in Unix please)
• You generally enjoy only one position while sex (spooning, and you will most probably adopt babies)
• You have published at least 3 research papers towards advance studies in ass-cleaning.
• You at least tube for 10 hours/day, 9 is fine, 8 is unacceptable
• That is it, never do more of anything.

PS: There’s some bad news for the ladies (in general) though, I won’t be setting off alarms for the middle of the night random sexual adventures. Don’t be judgmental though, my mind usually has no control over my penis, and I won’t accept cemented shit in your ass!! (My nose isn’t lazy too).

It was Friday, I was kind of happy, I always felt happy on Fridays, because the week was getting over, and because I still remained just enough sad to understand my sadness that wanted Saturday and Sunday to quickly precede another week. No seriously, I need answers, I am not doomed, and I am not given that. I sometimes did not understand if it was better to be rejected all together before dating or it was better to be at loss after losing some pride and self-respect. Did I agree? I say of course, I got succored into Fridays and rejected by Sundays, you now, now you will ask who needs a drink…

I realize the vagaries in my writing are too hard to stay abreast with. In retrospection, even I wonder what caused my mind to throw the words in a manner that it did. Yes, I want the audience and I want them to understand what I am saying, but I cannot let it be just obvious, I cannot just utter my belief with plain conviction because I do not want my readers to be sure about what I am saying. It seems I leave my readers with semi-digestible sentences and pieces of French fries dipped in ketchup sauce here and there—The paragraph above this one was just an example of it, if this is the first post someone has stumbled upon—shmuck-y, albeit from me!! (As if I am a king addressing his kingdom).

But my readers are Intelligent, it is assumed, I want to take the poetic license—I need it, I have said this way too often that I don’t mind diverting the audience to a warm sandwich instead of continuing with the next few words (lines, have you stopped?). I have been very well praised sometimes and I feed on that (sorry for being too honest), and I have been chastised and scorned (another adjective that needs revision) —by people who are close to me. “I do not like what you write, you have to stop writing about yourself and start writing something that people can connect with”—were the words of a woman I am addicted (revise please) to presently—I still maintain the same, why don’t you rather go and eat the sandwich? And then, there was another woman who told me that some of my expositions (common do you even know the meaning of that)—were like reading comprehension passages from CAT exam (damn I should have teed with that animal) —she made me laugh, but I couldn’t agree with her, still, and so I rant.

The longwinded and Hawaiian-dress kinds of sentences are here to stay, too bad, and I am going to crowd the web with this kind of loitering at least for sometime (I guess till I don’t completely degenerate, or till the woman of my life asks me to stop for the sake of continuation of the relationship). It isn’t about people getting bored, it is about whether audience really thinks that they have the time to spend on a page from which they might practically take nothing, yet stop by because it (the page) reflects something. I really don’t care if you are not used to watching “butterfly effect” kind of film, neither do I care if you are used to reading too much of structured writing. We all should continue doing what we like till there is at least one person in this world who stands by you—I have lots more than one, and I have every reason to sleep with that fact with my underwear off in the night.

I am not here to talk about a 450 pound guy who is still a virgin, but I will talk about him and even write a book about his life and his feelings if I change my mind, and it can still be made interesting (mind the use of “I” in the sentences again and again, I use it intentionally to create a sense of hatred towards me, the obnoxious I, I am, aren’t I?). A blogger or an author has to be father of the church where personal emotions and the characters are getting married, not everybody is as gifted as Gabriel Garcia. We all fake it till we make it, don’t we? Or in Dexter’s words—we all have a dark side. But that is not possible for few, lots of us cannot lose ourselves, the whole affair is not to get an external joy that is based on pretense, but (at least for me) to reach a level of emotional catharsis which matches with that of the audience. Most of the people try to strike a balance, which is what life is about (they will tell you), it is about balancing our external and internal needs. So we end up with motley, colors of which doesn’t even belong to us or matter to us lot of times.

Creativity in writing world is sometimes confused with being complex, the flowery prose (like the one I use most of the times) which runs for years before hitting a period, the convoluted metaphors, the sentences which are strung together in a very tight memory lane—forgetting any of the one will lead to a series of misunderstandings—is not our definition of success as writers. But if you remember, we all start working our way through complexities while we read too, we like it when more is said in less, and when less is more sometimes, don’t we all smile inside our minds when that happens in our favorite books? Isn’t Jazz complicated? Isn’t learning any art complicated? The beauty is always there, sometimes it has to be unearthed, and the effort required to so on part of both the producers and the observers is worth it. We have no right to question readers’ intelligence, and if somebody wants to keep it very simple, then he/she should write science textbooks instead of science fiction.

I hope I made my point this time at least.

–

The second woman I was referring to earlier still reads my essays (at least I think so) and I don’t think she reads them out of some obligation that she has to fulfill. She must think it is ok to have a style that can never be free from disconnected references and over-usage of metaphors, and she must be connecting—case closed.

To give you a better idea: I am an Indian fool (fool is bound to be mistaken for an actual fool by Indian readers here) trying to rub my shoulders with the guys out here in California. If I walk down the road of a place where I have spent most of the time in this life and say:

“Yeah, that is dank”

A quick reply would be: “(*&^#@##@ ”)…I mean it would be difficult to get one. Being aware of the situation, I will not say: “Hey, that’s not how you do it in southern California baby”.

I mean anybody who wants to adopt a culture would feel his/her way through few things that come to you slowly—language unleashes mystery again. I am digging my way through to something better all the time, so I started learning the “ways” of my hommies, the “ways” of people around in general.

I was repeating “yes, yes, I understand” to Joey all the time. I could see the hesitation inside both of us—an agreement which had grounds of almost a certain sense of acceptance to the fact that “we cannot understand”. So it continued…

Me: “you guys do understand most of the things I say, right?”

Mark (dabbling):  “Oh, for sure”

Sammy (with a little swag): “What do you think?” (I had said “Hell Yeah”)

Jordan (Fresh): “Of course fool”

Joey (fire): “Yes, but what we are saying is very differently understood by each one of us”

A sequence of words is processed so differently by different people at different times. It would happen to anybody, when we understand how world perceives us so differently all the time (very simple for Indian women—try to wear mini skirts all the time, you will know a thing or two).

Look at that letter “f” for e.g., I don’t think it would have made much of a difference to mankind if we had learned only the word “fuck” starting with that letter. We could have just said “pyre” instead of “fire”, really wouldn’t make much of difference, will it?

We both looked each other after a bit of time, and we both were sure at that moment that we had discovered something that is present around us all the time. We did not need words that time, the expression was through, the feeling when we experience the fact that “it just is”, not everything can be explained through words.

I am not here to fight for my race

Just being honest, and in the face

And telling you that it ain’t the case

I am just playing game, filling the space

Ajay is my name, ready to ace.

So, the snake charmer, are you ready?

Snooping in the hole, dancing on that beat already

I am working up a new one nice and steady

Common, are you ready to lose your religion and believe Mary Baker Eddy

That was nothing new, I usually don’t make sense—well I already said so, languages don’t make it easy!

Me competing with myself:

A little while ago I was speaking to my sister (and I am usually fuck honest with her, and I can be weird in front of her without thinking about what am I doing), and she knows where I find my humor in life. I was laughing watching myself laughing in the mirror and I had told her it would be really funny if I die laughing, I slobbered even more after that, my blood pressure had dropped so low that I might have actually died (you find the funny, huh!!). Later as I was watching the news at 9, the reports of my death were grossly exaggerated, but I still had a good laugh at them too.

You go around walking down the road and start laughing, and then you have to can it, but you can’t, so you end up laughing more. You walk past the next lane, and you will see hoardings of “you don’t understand your woman anymore, enter here for speed dating tips”, as a man, you probably ignore that, and start walking further before your woman calls you and tells you that you really don’t understand her. You think twice about turning back, but then you laugh at yourself. Laughing at yourself, abbr. LAY, is probably rightly abbreviated, you just lay down and laugh at yourself, that is the only time people who think life is a female who won’t give you any—can see how we can sleep with ourselves; probably the definition of safest and tested sexual experience anyone can have.

Well if there weren’t any punctuation in the sentences, lots of people would have started writing insane books which would have given us a very distorted idea about what we’ve available (in choices). So I guess it is ok that we have drawn the line somewhere. It is interesting to know that witticism is lot of times confused with humor, and lots of people are moved by the former more than latter. Unless you’re thinking about making a career out of it, you would want to speak less to make people laugh. Speaking more can give away the “mystery” factor–which people would have laughed at anyway just to make you know that they understand you. Oh Yeah, welcome, humor works on basics, you have to spend it like you spend money, you know what happens otherwise. Either that or you have to be inherently flawed, and you were distilled improperly through the potion-of-god, which churns human beings with varied varieties of sense of humors—Stephen fry and Joseph Heller come to mind.

Fact is: humor is a psychological state when described as a subjective state or emotional folly where some affective empirical or logical properties of either the perceiver or the observer are ought or thought to be violated (oh fuck). So it isn’t simple to expect a life which throws a giggle-party every now and then. The comprehension difficulty and cognitive restructuring that has to take place (that really isn’t taking place here, so shut the fuck up). If you’re really fucked up, trying to create or even invent humor in your life, then you have to have a hyperactive brain, if you’re seeking an opposite who can make you laugh, trust me you’re going to run out of that “something ” and you’ll need humor gas supply very early. If you’re trying to be humorous, and you try hard, you’ll end up scribbling something that will amount to some un-asked-for lessons on humor like this one, and you will try to get away by throwing some humility like I did in the previous line (I think I should pursue self-deprecating humor seriously).

Humor stems from constancy; we are more likely to laugh at a painting where only the characters and things change, but the background remains the same. But then there are acquired tastes for humor and human states can stream different humors differently at different times. Do you think it is humorous that we are bored of constancy yet we strive for it? The kind of randomness, we can try to create, should attempt to go past mere family resemblances. It is amazing how we created boundaries around ourselves and then we created humor as source of something that can get us to sneak past those boundaries. Humor can be one of last things remaining where emotions speak more truth than any other times.

Life itself is incongruous with the occasions when we want to laugh.  Humor is foolish yet optimistic; thank god we evolved in a manner that we own this thing. If not for humor, we wouldn’t have been able to reconstruct situations to drive away our baseless fears. We always rise to reality, we always react—and humor is an emotional undertone that can always remind us that reality is still an illusion, in a way, actually disillusioning us and helping us to grieve past ourselves. So next time if you’re not sure, just turnaround again, don’t see the sign boards, just pick up the bricks and throw them at the hoardings, who knows you might just save a life, or see light perhaps.

People [1] always have got something to say, you have got to do what you got to do. People laughed at me when I was hopping jobs, people have laughed at me when I was struggling to make a career in Music—“what next? They would always ask me”. I can easily say that I have got past all that and I can say that I love what I do. I love [2] coming to office everyday, I don’t have to say (who the hell is God anyways) TGIF. There are days when I even work from home; I know I would be hated for saying what I said. Most of us want a comfortable 9 to 5 job for few years, a bitchy girlfriend (a playboy if you’re the opposite), then a “seedhi saadhi” wife (an obedient dog for the opposite), then we want few kids to raise, and list just goes on. Lots of people, I have found, wish they had done that (don’t know what), wish they had just attended that painting class or that guitar class, as we all know, time never comes back. But I can’t really control peoples wants, I am instead trying to cut through all that come up with something that we all want to do—“do what we love”.

I still remember my PL had bought tickets for the Deep Purple concert in Bangalore, she knew that I had worked for 2 continuous days before that–I am not saying that every PL will do that if you work hard, but it is easy to forget that you will be positive only if you want to and you do see positives [3]. That some people are after you all the time has passed the tests, and there is nothing much you can do about, you just have to ignore that fact like a mole on your nose–if not for that, you would have entered the miss India contest and won it too, you see? No? (I really like doing this—see? No? As if I am an eye surgeon and I am slowly, one by one, operating on everybody in this world and asking them “see? No?”).

But, agreed, life sometimes doesn’t give you much choice, neither does it leave you with much courage where you can decide to say “Do hell with it” and do whatever you want to do. But solutions exist because problems arise, and we have to choose if we want to wrestle with the problem or whether we want to be consumed by the problem.

Doing what you love doesn’t mean you can sit on the Californian beach and wonder about the next wave that is going to sweep the sand, thinking, someday the waves will carve out your name on the sands. Trust me, it is time tested—you will be bored, as human beings, we have got to do something.

A typical response to what I am saying can be: “You don’t understand, I have spent a fortune for getting a degree and this rate of earning would require my children to repay the loan” –negative return on investment—as one of my friends likes to call it. But I say again, nature, in spite of all the reversals, has a way about it; it seems to balance things with time, question remains: are you ready to play the game? It all just happens in a split second, if you do not last, you lose.

I think we have to be hard on ourselves for once. We have to break the shells and say that “yes, I don’t like this, I am not going to do this” or say “I am going to do something that will help me reach where I want to”. That said– it is not very easy to know what you want to do, or to know what you love, unless you are a child prodigy good at some art or something that can be pursued and made a career out of–if you are reading this, chances are that you aren’t one (that’s plain arrogance). So the only choice you are left with is to try to know yourself somehow, know what gives you that extra “kick” in life, and see if you can sustain that kick consistently–if yes, then you’ve got it. I also feel it is better to separate yourself from a place where you feel you don’t belong to; you neither do well for yourself nor to the place by not parting ways. You won’t believe the kind of results that can come out if you actually understand that and then implement that. Organized rebellion demands people to be a part of the system, at least if you don’t want to end up being a junkie or you don’t want to end up in a punk-rock band; to change the system, you first need to be in the system–you have to know the rules to break them (that applies to the system you create inside your brain, and when you want to change, you know where the change comes from, no?)

So first, you have to know that you need a change, a change that has to understand why it is happening and what it is going to change into. It will happen that the change will reject you lot of times, and you will want to recede into the old self—where you were at least allowed to be lazy, you were not trying to do something else, trying to be a change—your not so self. Instead, you can still get out of the bed, and say to you, “What is the big deal with life anyways? I know I am a failure, happy?” and you will be ready for the next adventure, still calculating your means, still not forgetting that you will need enough rice to eat in the night and three cups of tea (bhai sahaab (meaning gentleman), log jyaada chai peete honge (meaning there are people who drink more than 3 cups)) — But, no more. You will go out, see that your friends have dressed up well, speaking to their GF/BF on the phones, kissing each other goodbyes, getting into their cars (don’t worry, you will have yours too), and all that will suddenly sweep your brain out of all the things that you had taught yourself the night before. “I can easily live like that, can’t I?” you say to yourself. You also feel a bit proud saying that, but it is of no use, it all comes back to you—“Fuck, I am not doing the right thing, fuck you, no, seriously, fuck you”, you say again. Or, you just end up pretending or saying that you like what you do, that is what most of the people around us do, not because they actually mean it, but because that is what expected of us—kind of a social statement. (How many people will really still continue doing what they do for living without getting paid? If you really love what you are doing, you will still do it. Say if you are painter, you will still paint, difference being, that you might have to work in restaurants in day time in order to feed yourself).

Warning:

With some calculations, it is easily said of people like me—that we either do very well in life, or our actions seem to be very bipolar in nature, and lots of us end up doing nothing in life. But, again, I am not really saying that you should go against the nature and do that, nature itself has programmed itself to not let something like that happen to itself, but I say it is just those small “tweaks”, which can decide you making a choice for yourself or you being chosen by some choices.
—-
Lots of people do come to a conclusion about what they would like/love to do, but there are again, problems that come in the way that stop them from doing what they would like to do. One common approach of getting around that is thinking that you will do something (like programming) for a while (say till you are 40), and then do what you love after that. But it is sad that most of those plans remain as it is, they never really actualize, by the time you are in a position to do something, you are already staring at a less crispy packet of chips, and a bottle of cola that has lost all its fizz—Yes, that is definitely a very, very weak plan, especially the kind of will power we are endowed with, did we have the will?

So the next option is do both the things (the one that you have to do to make a living + something that you would like to become source of living) at the same time. Although it sounds good, this option is not for the faint hearted. As many people have put it—Job and work are two different things, you separate both the things because you see a difference between them, how can you still do justice to both when you already know that one is more fun?

But in either of the cases, you need persistence, yes, sad I know. Problem with lots of us (especially the quarter-lifers) is that we don’t know what will give us happiness, we think we know it, but we don’t—we would have been happy otherwise. Think about it, you usually are able to take decisions, then you are also able to solve the problems with some effort, but again, only to realize that you solved the wrong problem, isn’t it? So you have to get that right. How? Again, see if the “kicks” are lasting enough time. You have to be able to say “Good yaar”, you have done something really good today, I really think I have done some work, you actually have to be able to admire yourself for what you have done, apart from the admiration people who care about you will shower upon you. You have to be obsessed with yourself, no matter what people say, only listen to those whom you really respect, yes your friends. Ask yourself if you are able to respect your friends, I know that sounds very ruthless, you have to make a choice, Rajma and rice or Vada pav (it’s a really bad comparison, No? hehe, laugh people laugh).

There are so many things connected to this issue that we will need a sitting (you know what I am talking about, don’t you?) to talk about it at length.

Anyways, are you disappointed with what you have got so far? If yes, then it is good. Knowing that you are disappointed is the first step towards being ‘not disappointed’ (it’s a pain typing this word again and again). Ignorance is not always bliss; we have to get that clear first. But if you are failing, but still trying in the direction of what you at least hazily know that you want to become, it is fine. History tells us that many great people have experienced severe disappointments in life at the beginning, may be you are just one of them? Don’t ever say you can’t, you always can, really, I don’t want to sound like Stephen Covey or some shit, I am a failure, yes, I accept, would you at least believe it now? Don’t decide to soon, or don’t come to conclusions based on few sample points, time, yes, but that will be another discussion. Remember, constraints are fantastic; they get less credit than they should, and they are actually making our lives simpler by giving us less to think about. Don’t be fooled into thinking that a million bucks will give you what you want in life: the happiness, the ability to choose what you want to do, etc.

First things first: you first have to know that you can do what you love, you see? No?

The world wants you to do what you love—yes!!

Notes

1. Why should you believe me?  And what credentials do I have to distribute gyaan? It happens to me that I am always looking for various kinds of things which can teach me something, and I always stumble on luminaries, some whom I admire, some not so. But all the great ones have one thing in common—they all have been there and they are doing it. So there were lot of times, I used to think “well this guy is head of science department in MIT, he obviously knows shit, and he’s got things to say, I can’t possibly benefit from them”. I think for a change, if you hear it from somebody who himself is coming to terms with life– then it might strike you more than it otherwise would or could.

2. Like HandyManny. I love watching this animation.

3. I raise this issue first, because most of the audience who read this belong to “office” cultures, where, there is always a boss sitting in front of you.

I wish I could touch your hair, look into your eyes, hug you, embrace you, and hide you in my chest; this world doesn’t know that I wear you instead of my vest. I wish I could hear the sound of your voice, I wish I could hear your cold heart to lend you my tears. I know you live in a multicolored life, and Grammy awards don’t matter any more to you, but I wish I could know ‘what can I be to you?’ I’ll come away with you, no matter it’s sunrise or sunset—I just have faith, I have been told by Eva Cassidy, that all I need is just faith, and I will be one of the black lines in the your checkered dress that you look so beautiful in, in my dreams all these days. I feel overpowered by the thoughts of you, and I have given up writing this about two times because my hands feel disconnected from my brain.

Practically, I don’t even know if I will meet you in this life, but the moment my heart murmurs “Norah”, I drift into another aura, which cannot imagine how a feeling of love could be. Your shimmering voice makes me deaf, and my lurching soul zigzag’s ever so more. If there was anything in this world I could wish before the sixth beer, it would be a sixth sense—that can feel your reality with mine—that can combine my unreal-but-smug thoughts with yours that are so serene. Oh Norah, but I have to be practical, because you’re world starts where mine ends, because you breathe and you can take away mine, because you are gold and I am just a mere smear, because ‘because’ can’t be used many times to express reasons beyond our control, god knows—because even he can’t see my love.

What kind of real love is this where I can’t even see you but in my eyes, I can’t feel you if not for your voice? I wish this was not another fandom that sees the light in the sun because it cannot see the moon.

My imagery is molded into emotion with every passing second, but I control, because I cannot learn to control, and my situation is getting further from an eccentric disposition to near-suicidal despair, right now, betwixt between my meaningless existence and the need for your “speed”. Love is mysterious cruelty that most of the human beings have to experience; I want life to at least allow you to be cruel to me, cruel to the extent that my intense inwardness can engulf itself to the point of reproducing your love in every bone, and every drop of blood in my body.

The sun has seen another day today, but I am still waiting for the moon, because that is when I can hide my love for you in the dark, as some one said: to hope is to act, and to act is to hope. I cannot blame you, but I’m just expressing my last remains of truth left inside my mind. I am sorry if I am overboard; let me sink in again, for again, it will be the same, again…

The people in San Francisco were nice to the extent that made me believe that the people are pretending, and they are what they are because they don’t wanted to discreetly preserve the dark sides that we all are composed of. And now, as I was ready to breathe the first wave of the airs in San Diego shores, I wasn’t sure about which way the winds would blow in the shores.

I wanted to meet people, I wanted to meet guys, and I wanted to see how they laugh, I wanted to penetrate their thoughts. Not much would have been possible, if not for two wonderful blokes on the block—Andrew Merkle and Jordan. They have accepted me in a way a son separated from his mother for 15 years can accept her son. Be it, “Whad up shwady? You want a snap? What’s good? You’re feeling good? You’re sick? —everything has been good beyond what an average guy walking down the road of a foreign country can expect. You are possibly the sole reason I can go back to India and say United States rocks!! It’s important to me in many ways, no matter what people think about it, I wanted to be part of you, I wanted to feel home outside home, you have made me feel the home away from home.

Andrew: We can do, what we do, when we do in back of the Lac, I’m like I’m all up for that

Jordan:

Tic Tac, Tic Tic Tac

Doesn’t really matter cause you aint fat

We are doing that

Are you doing that?

You know what I am talking about right?

Peace….

• Ok, let’s do it. We have hooked up, No Condoms!! Ok, your shit may just become a rope, but that just means you’re lazy, you are thinking about having kids with me right? Lots of men have in the previous 10 years, nobody has succeeded, and I want to know whether you can put your heart in there. I know it is difficult to cum while wearing one, but I honestly don’t care (I am honest at least; you have to bow to that). You have a round ass girl wanting your dick inside her, giving you “that look”, and you can’t fight through a small piece of rubber? Dammit, just get over it man.
• Now stop thinking about that Condom again, seriously, you’re in the (zone) now, you are working out your shit, hmmm, not bad, stop pretending as if you’re a experienced porn-star, you don’t know what you’re doing, because I am getting it, just stick to basics, we can try making a film some other time.
• Don’t give me that ugly-cat-look when I ask for some lube, don’t get offended and don’t belittle your quasi-intellectualism. Rubber doesn’t churn out cream, it dries up everything, and you were a programmer? And a musician too? You don’t seem to have basic 9^th grade science concepts. You have no right to ask why am I not wet, I am doing well; some lube can do me no harm. Do I ask you why you eat Doritos when you’re having fish? We should always try to do better, it’s not about why? It’s about why not?
• I know you’re inquisitive-natured; I even thought that was hot when we went out at first. But, shit-head, you can’t just open your mouth and spit “what is that”. I am a female animal, I am hot, but I ain’t Adrian Lima A.KA perfect. Do I ask “what is that black-purple-orange thing?”
• Don’t try to be nice and stuff, you have me in the bed, you may have lied, you may have told me things that you aren’t, but this is not the time to correct them mother trucker, just fuck me for now, I’ll see how I can make it up to you later.
• Boobs can be sensitive depending on the season of the year, take it easy. I am not a radio, and don’t try to tune one. And hey, I am not your mother either, you know what I am mean right? Just try to remember that. Don’t uphold my boobies with your hands and try to imagine how they would look if they were not original. You are a fag aren’t you? You have full sized porcelain cups, and all you care about are the plastic ones? Can’t believe I am letting you fuck me.
• Your fingers are all good and all, I know, there’s nothing wrong with you, but sometimes I just want that dick. Don’t get me wrong, oral sex is the crutch I hold on to all the times, but I ain’t just in the mood, eat something before hand, but please don’t eat me, you know. FYI.
• Just pay attention as you do when you’re listening to your boss, don’t stop, don’t look here and there and just assume things. If I’m having a good meal, screaming, or moving, it means keep going, look for signs: my hands and legs will grip you, my open mouth, don’t be fooled by the sounds, I might just not be in for antics, just pay attention.
• I know you watch lots of porn, but it doesn’t work that way (just being clear if you aren’t experienced). Reverse cowgirl just isn’t my thing, it doesn’t work, and I will let you know few other things when I know something isn’t working. Yeah, just remembered, I don’t understand the finger licking, again, this ain’t the movies.
• Keep me looking at you, don’t stare at me as if you are winning a war for me (cos you aren’t), but try to smile, or just be serious, and keep looking at me. I can be lost in hysteria, and might forget where I am, so again…
• Don’t forget about the neck and ears, they are the last resort for seeking any pleasure during the “down” days.
• Sex can seem to be funny, after all human race is funny, people from another planet might look at us and wonder what we people do, I can get into those shoes, and I may laugh. It’s ok to laugh, you can laugh too. It can be anything isn’t it? The way we look in some position/angles, might be because we make weird noises, might be because we just think of some comedy show right in the middle, it is ok, but don’t let it get out of hand.
• It should be apparent that you are not supposed to poke around my ass. Grab it, feel it, pat it, and even slap it sometimes, but anything more is unacceptable, don’t even ask for it!!
• beware of asking for threesomes, I might ask for the Eiffel tower.
• Take it slowly man, always begin slowly, make me want it, make me beg for it, enjoy my desperation for a change—massage me, play with my ears, wedge my legs apart, one at a time, make me feel like a hot sandwich.
• Don’t be disappointed when I ask you if you’re tested. I enjoy sex as much as you do, I do fantasize, and yeah I watch that shit too, so don’t get offended, just tell me, I am just demanding safe sex.
• And when we are done humping, don’t start humming “and I’ll buy you a stairway to heaven”, you were a piss in bed; you couldn’t match any of the beats that you seem to be so fucking savvy about. I just didn’t tell you, at least respect that, and shut the fuck up”.
• Hmmm, and yeah, don’t expect me to scrounge for the Condoms when we are done, I don’t want our parents to find it someday when they decide to do us a favor by cleaning the house.

Sigh,  I feel good!!

Back up bitch, oh!! I am so sorry (lemme not be all psycho and stuff here, I am really sorry, I mean, I mean I mean it, but I don’t want to say that). I am struggling with these thoughts juggling in my mind; it’s not that difficult, is it? After all, you are my wife, and I don’t have the balls to ask you whose you’re playing with. I request both of you, please clean the bathroom nice and clean, you can get as fucking dirty as you want to, but please not my bathroom, I brush my teeth there, and I have to open my mouth and nose there (excuse me there, but would you please mind telling your boyfriend to rub the seat of the toilet after he’s done?). And to you, yes, the toilet bugger, please don’t finish all my whisky when I am out, I have to be around longer than, you know, for what.

It’s December, you can keep her for the Christmas, anyways, we don’t have kids, so I don’t have to scratch my balls (oops) for that, and yeah, you can keep her for Valentines too, but I want to feel honorable on Saint Patrick’s day, so if you can spare her for a couple of hours, then I will buy you the best Hashbrowns in this world. Last week, I had to shred around $1600 because the health insurance didn’t cover for what you did to her, she may like it, but it hurts my ass, you’re a bro, Pl. ask me, and I’ll buy you some oil next time around, that’s way to less expensive at least. Both of you might think I am mentally challenged for writing all this to you, but I’m trying my best not to, it’s just that I am a rationalist and my utility function has coughed up few measures that I should, buy, for one, it might really be worth it!!

I am not cruel, am I? Ok, let me prove it you, there is a Vodka kept at the back of all the pile of bottles on top of the refrigerator, you can have that when you’re out of beer. And, hey, shy guy, don’t be shy, I have seen you banging her on the bathroom floor man, you’re the last person in the world that I expect to be working at the best-buy stores anywhere across America, you know why? Because I ain’t buying that from you anytime (hell yeah, I am going to start that shit beginning with because, don’t you think I am angry, because, I, used, SHIT).

BACK PROBLEMS: try a lap dance (doctors would never tell you that because they make money when you break backs’).

SEX PRobleMS: you can’t do much; change is the only truth…..

You can email me anytime for anything you think can cause a jitter to your relationship, my honeys illegal hubby: please buy her that four dollar lattes, I will pay for all that at the end of the month. So, slouch a little more, and bide a little more, if you think you can look a bit more sullen and reassure me that I am not with you this time…..

With love (don’t you doubt it)

My friend

Notes:

1. Speaker is a friend of mine, I don’t think he feels the same, I just approached the whole thing in a different fucksy manner.

Hunches are volatile version of intuitions, which I believe are thought to be less potent than they are. I over-pride myself for embodying these intuitions that are always bang-on. I have a hunch about my hunches that they lose their punches when they are out in the open. I don’t know how much can I believe that hunch now, but in the process of relieving myself out of some sin born out of unreasoning, I test my intuitions against tangible evidence—”I am not a superstition, I am not a superstition”–each one of them screams.

My intuitions somehow can sneak past my reality into the real reality, and they always gather the right information for me. When I second guess, the intuitions almost always falter, but it isn’t their fault, we can’t just make them lose their meaning and expect them to live as if there still run on some meaning, can we? I don’t want them to be right that often, because I don’t want to live on intuitions for some inexplicable reasons, may be I just want to plain-sure, and intuitions don’t allow you to be cocksure, but my misery is such, I don’t know which one to choose, I want reason inside reality to work more than reason inside subjective reality.

No, but you can see the fire in front of you, right?

Not until you just told me so

So you mean to say I am lying? Or you mean to say that I am not using enough mental faculties and information to give you that information?

No, I want to believe that the fire is there, but I don’t want to believe you

Sometimes it happens that we want to get burnt, we want to feel the ashes rising through us, just anticipating the soothing effects of rubbing ashes all over the body. It is not about learning, most of the times we still hope that the fire won’t burn us, thinking that we got to feel the heat to generate the heat, it is very subjective, it may or may not be the case, if you win, you praise your intuitions and your intuitions go stronger until they decide to part ways from the truth. If you lose, your intuitions move away in different directions, like a jelly fish, after a while, they just go with the flow, so there is no clear separation between what you do and what you feel—I feel that is the worst thing, obviously because you have lost, no matter how much you try to not feel—the feeling stays, and it modifies the intuitions in way that would make them (the intuitions) less free, misguided, and useless really.

But the postmortem of previous thoughts always yields “What would you have done anyway”—that is the exact thing that allows us to believe that we are better of trusting our intuition—it isn’t logic, but it isn’t that illogical—that is what we find.  Our intuitions are based on solid reasons—what should not be—but should be if you are not a fan of intuition. Intuitions, technically, have to be crazy, for e.g. you feeling the sign of an impending accident at a signal before the accident site—and it really happens—that’s intuition, something like space and time, aren’t they intuitions? I cannot prove to myself that space and time are entities, I fear space and time, and I fear what they without reason and logic, and still make believe that everything happens for a reason—thoughts like these make me believe that I am better of working with intuitions.

What should we do? Should we choose the stable reality? Or should we give uncertainty a chance? We always do that—but should we still do that when stability seems to keep you warm? I don’t know if these are intuitions that are keeping me late up in the night, or is it just that I have over eaten (which is simple logic). Since I have not uttered the four letter word in this post till now—Fuck you intuitions—I don’t want you to be true so often.