Sometimes I think about the futility of life as a whole. Not one person I know around me is happy, satisfied. The more I study spirituality, the more I realise that human beings aspire to become like animals, taking care of only their basic needs. It is only then one can achieve true freedom, salvation.
Have you ever observed birds? Or fish? The live and they die, being of no real consequence when in reality they help perpetuate the universe. All species, except for man, live with their universe. Man lives on earth, dominates it. But what is man but a virus, perhaps the most destructive species this earth has ever seen.
I hear my father, the best damn family man one can be, talk over the phone at wee hours of the night. He is discussing movies and film stars with his girlfriend. I can't blame him or hate him for what he does and how badly he covers the tracks of his affair, I understand him. But yet I feel so incredibly angry thinking of the impact his actions have had on me. I have never grown up in an atmosphere where I can imagine what a normal relationship feels like. My parents share a strange dynamic now that they're living together in the same house and in the same city again after all these years. I can't feel the love between them and it kills me. How can two people who were so madly in love at one point of time in their young lives be so indifferent to each other?
Turns out that my father does not have cancer, but his lungs are starting to betray him slowly. It runs in the family apparently, as does cancer. But the thought of losing my father one day, eventually, does not scare me. It does not break me. Over the years, I have grown used to losses. I feel the pain, but it no longer cripples me.
Death has never scared me. I am not scared of dying tomorrow, I am however terrified of waking up one day when I'm 90 to realise that my limbs, my organs don't function properly anymore.
But anyway, I've regressed far too much to write down what I originally intended to. I blame the damn pot.
I don't know why but I feel like I've been losing myself lately and this time to tackle my depression, I've been studying. I've reading reading reading. Loners like me find a strange kind of comfort in the words of other people.
I've been stocking up on Bengali literature. I've been forcing myself to write in my mother tongue. It brings me at peace with myself somehow. My words come out like a child who is slowly learning to talk. The simplicity of it brings me a strange kind of comfort.
মাঝে মাঝে হারিয়ে গেলে, ক্ষতি কোথায়ে?
I'm your average part-time God and full-time joker.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Alternative Career Options
- Drug dealer, scene sorter.
- Pimp.
- Whore.
ModelDon't fulfill basic height/vital stat requirementsActorCannot act to save life.- Writer for tabloids, the page 3 etc etc
- Professional alcoholic.
- Full time homemaker.
Private tutorDon't have patience, can't stand most children.- Tollywood extra.
Babe,
(You just pictured me seductively moan "babe" into your ear, didn't you, you cheap fuck? ) I miss you. I miss how we'd kiss, how you'd hold my hand and guide me from time to time. I miss you and the way you'd hold me, hug me and console me. I miss the way you'd run your fingers through my hair and down my back, I miss how you'd squeeze my butt, my breasts and run your nails down my body. You'd finger me. You'd fuck me and you'd make me cry out for more. You were everything I wanted but I guess I was never good enough for you.
You never loved me the way I should have been loved. 'Why are you so hot' you exclaimed when you were busy sticking your dick inside me, onetime. That was always it for you. I was a hot, modern yogic piece of meat for you, never more. You never tried to understand me. You blamed the ex-lovers for getting in the way, but never blamed yourself. My ex-lovers were never throwing themselves at juvenile sluts, you were. My ex-lovers were never lying to me, you were. My ex-lovers were never abandoning me, you were. My ex-lovers were gone from the frame, Only you were around, but it is so much easier to blame someone else that yourself, isn't it?
I think about the sex we had from time to time and I pray that it wasn't the greatest I'll ever experience, I pray that it will be better for me someday. I pray for average sex with someone who'll love me with their heart over great sex with someone who will ultimately leave me feeling like a whore. I want to close my eyes and make love with someone, someday. I know I will, because you sure can fuck me hard and fuck me fast, but you've never been able to bare yourself and make love to me. It takes some amount of sensitivity and genuineness-qualities which you clearly don't possess.
Pay someone a thousand rupees and they'd probably do the same as I did. I was your cheap cheap cheap fucking whore, nothing more. Pay a whore a thousand rupees or slightly more and she'd swallow your semen and tell you how much she loves you as well. There is no real difference, is there? It's all just the same, girl A girl B girl X girl Y...it's all just the same. Scope them out on facebook, flirt your balls off, dream of fucking them someday somewhere. The cycle is endless. Two birds in the bush are quite obviously better than the one in hand, ain't it?
Pay a whore some money and she'd dress up all nice for you, be lady you can show off to your friends. There is no difference. They won't let you kiss them on the mouth though, But I wouldn't know, the lovers of my past have been completely satisfied with me, they've never had to look around as much as you've had to. they've never had to visit the rendipotti in Calcutta or elsewhere because despite my frail frame, I've been more than enough woman for them. You're the only asshole who I was obviously not enough for. I guess maybe if I was younger, sluttier, and had bigger boobs, maybe then I'd have your undivided attention. But what to do, I can't and I won't let someone like you make me feel inferior. If I had to take revenge then I'd talk about the size and girth of your fucking dick, your manhood. But I won't go there. I am not the peasant that you are. I am royalty, bitch.
People are obstinate, people don't change. Perhaps sometimes they get better at covering their tracks when they lie. But they never change. Anything you hear on the contrary, are just lies.
The older I grow, the more I realise that I want to settle down with someone, marry them and have their babies. I want to be in an average mediocre relationship with someone loyal, faithful and loving. I don't want adventures and grand plans. I just want someone who'll love me and complete me. I want someone who'll treat me right and be there for me when I need them the most.
The sex with you was probably the only thing I remember fondly, but then again, you never really understood and valued me. Because if you had then you'd never let me go. You'd never treat me the way you did. I was your hooker, I was never your lover. Dignity, look up the word on a dictionary, I don't think you know what it means. My ego has never swallowed me whole and every time you treated me like dirt at public places, I took it with a pinch of salt figuring that you're perhaps too naive, you're one of those asshole chauvinists who will perhaps change someday as they grow older.
It's strange how the more I let you treat me badly, the more you went ahead and did indeed. A showpiece, a prize, that's all I amounted to for you. But you forgot, you poor boy, was that everything has a repercussion. If you were to ever father a girl child some day, I pray that nobody ever treats her the way you treated me. Seriously, can you imagine the rage and the humiliation you'd feel? It's cool to treat women like your sextoys, isn't it? Wait till you have a daughter of your own, you cunt. Or would you be okay with someone treating her like a prostitute as well?
It's okay I guess. You're old enough to understand that we belong to two very different spheres. We want something completely different out of our lives. You want hot chicks, a whole bunch of them to adore you, you want to be rich and famous, I just want to settle down with a man and a dog (two actually) somewhere and write my music. Our priorities in life are very different.
You hurt me and I will eventually forgive you, with time. But I will never forgive myself for falling for a fraud. I always fall for a fraud. I guess that's my weak point, thank you for tapping into it. You're not much different from the guy who raped me. I feel stupid thinking that somebody would love me for my soul and the kind of person that I am. I guess the perils of having a moderately fuckable body is that guys will always only want to fuck you and dump you after that.
I don't know why that is though. Am I that ugly? Or does nobody want to love me because I'm tainted, because I've been raped? It's like everyone wants to stick their dick in me but nobody wants to stick around. I guess there are a few drawbacks of being raped during your adolescence, everybody assumes that you're a piece of shit and that you do deserve to be treated like one. Sometimes I feel like I should douse myself in kerosene and set myself on fire, just die. Perhaps nobody will love me. Everybody just wants to have a go at me, fuck me and then abandon me.
I guess not every girl has a happy ending. Some people, like me, unfortunately become the victims of the cruel game called life. I don't blame you, you had your go-duping me from time to time. I hope you had a good time. I hope I was able to "love you long time." The gifts make sense now. I'm not a cheap hooker, I'm one of those classy ones, you give me gifts and I give blowjobs etc etc.
I sometimes wonder if you think of me too. I wonder if you remember the time at your place when I trusted you to make love to me. Wait, who am I kidding. Your memory is probably too jammed from the fucking drugs and the superficial lifestyle. How could you remember, if you had any respect and valued sentiments, you wouldn't let me go so far away/
Someone told me that you've been writing about me, that you put up a naked picture of me. You know what, I won't give you the pleasure by even reading what you have to say to the whole wide world. I give a flying fuck. Try as hard as you can, pull of all your unimaginative and incredibly mediocre stunts, I'm gone. I'm really really gone. You're just a waste of time in my 23 years of existence, nothing more. If I can get over the person who I loved for the first time in life who raped me, then getting over you should be a piece of cake. I'm done waiting for a sign. I'm done waiting for you.
Infact, why the fuck am I even typing this out. I'd rather write a note for my dead soulmate who'll at least acknowledge my presence. You're not even a man. You're just an infant who threw away the best he could have imagined, the one who threw away the best he could have got.
Sincerely, without any love
S.
(You just pictured me seductively moan "babe" into your ear, didn't you, you cheap fuck? ) I miss you. I miss how we'd kiss, how you'd hold my hand and guide me from time to time. I miss you and the way you'd hold me, hug me and console me. I miss the way you'd run your fingers through my hair and down my back, I miss how you'd squeeze my butt, my breasts and run your nails down my body. You'd finger me. You'd fuck me and you'd make me cry out for more. You were everything I wanted but I guess I was never good enough for you.
You never loved me the way I should have been loved. 'Why are you so hot' you exclaimed when you were busy sticking your dick inside me, onetime. That was always it for you. I was a hot, modern yogic piece of meat for you, never more. You never tried to understand me. You blamed the ex-lovers for getting in the way, but never blamed yourself. My ex-lovers were never throwing themselves at juvenile sluts, you were. My ex-lovers were never lying to me, you were. My ex-lovers were never abandoning me, you were. My ex-lovers were gone from the frame, Only you were around, but it is so much easier to blame someone else that yourself, isn't it?
I think about the sex we had from time to time and I pray that it wasn't the greatest I'll ever experience, I pray that it will be better for me someday. I pray for average sex with someone who'll love me with their heart over great sex with someone who will ultimately leave me feeling like a whore. I want to close my eyes and make love with someone, someday. I know I will, because you sure can fuck me hard and fuck me fast, but you've never been able to bare yourself and make love to me. It takes some amount of sensitivity and genuineness-qualities which you clearly don't possess.
Pay someone a thousand rupees and they'd probably do the same as I did. I was your cheap cheap cheap fucking whore, nothing more. Pay a whore a thousand rupees or slightly more and she'd swallow your semen and tell you how much she loves you as well. There is no real difference, is there? It's all just the same, girl A girl B girl X girl Y...it's all just the same. Scope them out on facebook, flirt your balls off, dream of fucking them someday somewhere. The cycle is endless. Two birds in the bush are quite obviously better than the one in hand, ain't it?
Pay a whore some money and she'd dress up all nice for you, be lady you can show off to your friends. There is no difference. They won't let you kiss them on the mouth though, But I wouldn't know, the lovers of my past have been completely satisfied with me, they've never had to look around as much as you've had to. they've never had to visit the rendipotti in Calcutta or elsewhere because despite my frail frame, I've been more than enough woman for them. You're the only asshole who I was obviously not enough for. I guess maybe if I was younger, sluttier, and had bigger boobs, maybe then I'd have your undivided attention. But what to do, I can't and I won't let someone like you make me feel inferior. If I had to take revenge then I'd talk about the size and girth of your fucking dick, your manhood. But I won't go there. I am not the peasant that you are. I am royalty, bitch.
People are obstinate, people don't change. Perhaps sometimes they get better at covering their tracks when they lie. But they never change. Anything you hear on the contrary, are just lies.
The older I grow, the more I realise that I want to settle down with someone, marry them and have their babies. I want to be in an average mediocre relationship with someone loyal, faithful and loving. I don't want adventures and grand plans. I just want someone who'll love me and complete me. I want someone who'll treat me right and be there for me when I need them the most.
The sex with you was probably the only thing I remember fondly, but then again, you never really understood and valued me. Because if you had then you'd never let me go. You'd never treat me the way you did. I was your hooker, I was never your lover. Dignity, look up the word on a dictionary, I don't think you know what it means. My ego has never swallowed me whole and every time you treated me like dirt at public places, I took it with a pinch of salt figuring that you're perhaps too naive, you're one of those asshole chauvinists who will perhaps change someday as they grow older.
It's strange how the more I let you treat me badly, the more you went ahead and did indeed. A showpiece, a prize, that's all I amounted to for you. But you forgot, you poor boy, was that everything has a repercussion. If you were to ever father a girl child some day, I pray that nobody ever treats her the way you treated me. Seriously, can you imagine the rage and the humiliation you'd feel? It's cool to treat women like your sextoys, isn't it? Wait till you have a daughter of your own, you cunt. Or would you be okay with someone treating her like a prostitute as well?
It's okay I guess. You're old enough to understand that we belong to two very different spheres. We want something completely different out of our lives. You want hot chicks, a whole bunch of them to adore you, you want to be rich and famous, I just want to settle down with a man and a dog (two actually) somewhere and write my music. Our priorities in life are very different.
You hurt me and I will eventually forgive you, with time. But I will never forgive myself for falling for a fraud. I always fall for a fraud. I guess that's my weak point, thank you for tapping into it. You're not much different from the guy who raped me. I feel stupid thinking that somebody would love me for my soul and the kind of person that I am. I guess the perils of having a moderately fuckable body is that guys will always only want to fuck you and dump you after that.
I don't know why that is though. Am I that ugly? Or does nobody want to love me because I'm tainted, because I've been raped? It's like everyone wants to stick their dick in me but nobody wants to stick around. I guess there are a few drawbacks of being raped during your adolescence, everybody assumes that you're a piece of shit and that you do deserve to be treated like one. Sometimes I feel like I should douse myself in kerosene and set myself on fire, just die. Perhaps nobody will love me. Everybody just wants to have a go at me, fuck me and then abandon me.
I guess not every girl has a happy ending. Some people, like me, unfortunately become the victims of the cruel game called life. I don't blame you, you had your go-duping me from time to time. I hope you had a good time. I hope I was able to "love you long time." The gifts make sense now. I'm not a cheap hooker, I'm one of those classy ones, you give me gifts and I give blowjobs etc etc.
I sometimes wonder if you think of me too. I wonder if you remember the time at your place when I trusted you to make love to me. Wait, who am I kidding. Your memory is probably too jammed from the fucking drugs and the superficial lifestyle. How could you remember, if you had any respect and valued sentiments, you wouldn't let me go so far away/
Someone told me that you've been writing about me, that you put up a naked picture of me. You know what, I won't give you the pleasure by even reading what you have to say to the whole wide world. I give a flying fuck. Try as hard as you can, pull of all your unimaginative and incredibly mediocre stunts, I'm gone. I'm really really gone. You're just a waste of time in my 23 years of existence, nothing more. If I can get over the person who I loved for the first time in life who raped me, then getting over you should be a piece of cake. I'm done waiting for a sign. I'm done waiting for you.
Infact, why the fuck am I even typing this out. I'd rather write a note for my dead soulmate who'll at least acknowledge my presence. You're not even a man. You're just an infant who threw away the best he could have imagined, the one who threw away the best he could have got.
Sincerely, without any love
S.
Monday, February 23, 2015
Cheeky Little Cunt
My pussy is tight
My pussy is tight
Don't kill my vibe, bitch
Don't kill my vibe.
I'd fuck your girlfriend
I'd fuck your brother.
I'd fuck them real good.
I'd fuck them right.
Cause my pussy's still tight.
Warm. So wet.
Waiting for you.
All those rumours you've heard
Are indeed true.
My pussy is tight.
My pussy is tight.
I'll spread anarchy right here in Calcutta.
It's time to start a fight!
Sunday, February 22, 2015
It's A Man's World
"I'm with the band" is as good as it gets for some girls. They spend their time trying to somehow fit into the circle, where I'm assuming the ultimate coolios are the guys in the band. Life's never been like that for me. I've never been a groupie for someone else. I am the band, bitch.
It felt strange to be back at Someplace Else after all this time, as though we were finishing what we'd started three years back on the exact same stage. I was possessed. It was unreal.
I have been told so many times by so many people that I'm just another pretty face, that my band will not last. I can't sing. I have mediocre talent. Last night was a slap in the face for those people. The satisfaction in proving your haters wrong and giving them absolutely no reason to criticize you can be such a high.
I'm not an arrogant prick who can't stand criticism, don't get me wrong. I welcome constructive criticism because it helps me grow. I was once told that I sing awfully live and that I should quit. I did not let that break me, I've spent the last year trying to work on better singing and that remains my priority in every gig. I'm fortunate because I've had help coming my way from some of the best there is, those who try to tweak me to become better, to realise my potential.
When the lights are on, the stage is set, everything happens in a flash. I'm in a trance. It doesn't matter who is in the audience, it's me and three people who are extensions of my soul versus the entire world. I love being in a band because it's like a brotherhood, but only better.
The relationship between bandmates is strange, quite undescribeable. I love them so much that it hurts and yet sometimes I want to punch them in the face. They've seen me during my best and my worst. They are my friends, siblings, parents, colleagues all rolled into one.
I could always go solo, play my music through a laptop and a few instruments. But where is the fun in that? Everybody can do that. Would the Beatles be The Beatles if the four of them tried to make it work by going solo?
But being in a band is not always rainbows and butterflies, it teaches you to be tolerant of those with beliefs different from yours, it also teaches you to put others before yourself sometimes. It's a lot of hard work to spend all your time with people who are completely different from you, things get tense sometimes, everybody reaches their boiling points, but the good thing is that in such situations, one person always becomes the peace-maker, the mediator.
I would much rather die than give up on my band. We may not make money, we may not be famous. However, every time we hit the stage, I feel protected, I feel at one with the three and at the end of the day, we feel the exact same things-the reason I play music in the first place.
The biggest compliment I received last night was probably from M who in his drunken stupor said that I have balls of steel. Songwriters need to have some balls, they need to have an opinion, it can't be about love songs and romances all the time. Even if it is, then you really need to feel what you say, fucking someone and writing a song about them is cheating, it's being lazy. Also we're living in an era where romance is essentially dead, this is not the 60s and the 70s. The acid we drop is not pure. The ecstasy we abuse is to get us to fuck, not make love. Despite what others may think of it, I enjoy industrial rock, it is dirty like the crack the world is on. It is grotesque and it is on you to find the beauty in it.
M once said something very profound on the lines of musicians either playing with their cocks or their assholes, which I find to be quite true. But maybe instead of cock and asshole, I'd say heart/mind and body. I don't want to be the latter. It's okay if I can't sing like Freddie Mercury, I can however, be the best damn Suyasha there is. So many people start playing music for such wrong reasons, the most obvious one being to get laid. Or to be famous and make money. But what they don't realise is that if you have nothing to say, you're not going to be able to achieve any of those things.
Women, or rather girls, in particular are even worse at these things. So many girls I know start singing (because hello, just about anybody can sing, it's the easiest thing to do in a band!) because they want to be a famous model or an actress. They obviously can't hold on to the spotlight and when the audience is bored of what they see, they move on to other things. If there's anything I'd hate to be, that would be to be a fad and nothing more. I don't want to be known for the way I look and the way I sing, I want to be known for what I have to say.
Live music is a time-bomb and not every woman has the strength of Aunty J. I desperately want to be as strong, wise and elegant as she is when I'm her age. I've seen too many skanks around and I know, I just know, that twenty years down the line, none of them will remain. They will get married to rich men and have their babies, that will be their career. I'm not envious of those around me because some may have more popularity, more money than I do. But I'm not here for those things, I am here because this is the only thing I can do, I don't have a choice. Music is my life.
So going back to the whole "I'm with the band" sentence, sometimes girls need to find their own scene and not become the hellwoman from This Is Spinal Tap. It's frankly quite embarrassing because no one takes groupies seriously, they're just fuck and throw. If I were to meet Kurt Cobain in a hypothetical situation, I still wouldn't be his groupie, I'd just be a musician talking to another, perhaps a more experienced one.
PS-If you think about it, Kurt Cobain ultimately fell for a musician (whether you like her or not is not the point!), not one of this groupies. There's your example.
It felt strange to be back at Someplace Else after all this time, as though we were finishing what we'd started three years back on the exact same stage. I was possessed. It was unreal.
I have been told so many times by so many people that I'm just another pretty face, that my band will not last. I can't sing. I have mediocre talent. Last night was a slap in the face for those people. The satisfaction in proving your haters wrong and giving them absolutely no reason to criticize you can be such a high.
I'm not an arrogant prick who can't stand criticism, don't get me wrong. I welcome constructive criticism because it helps me grow. I was once told that I sing awfully live and that I should quit. I did not let that break me, I've spent the last year trying to work on better singing and that remains my priority in every gig. I'm fortunate because I've had help coming my way from some of the best there is, those who try to tweak me to become better, to realise my potential.
When the lights are on, the stage is set, everything happens in a flash. I'm in a trance. It doesn't matter who is in the audience, it's me and three people who are extensions of my soul versus the entire world. I love being in a band because it's like a brotherhood, but only better.
The relationship between bandmates is strange, quite undescribeable. I love them so much that it hurts and yet sometimes I want to punch them in the face. They've seen me during my best and my worst. They are my friends, siblings, parents, colleagues all rolled into one.
I could always go solo, play my music through a laptop and a few instruments. But where is the fun in that? Everybody can do that. Would the Beatles be The Beatles if the four of them tried to make it work by going solo?
But being in a band is not always rainbows and butterflies, it teaches you to be tolerant of those with beliefs different from yours, it also teaches you to put others before yourself sometimes. It's a lot of hard work to spend all your time with people who are completely different from you, things get tense sometimes, everybody reaches their boiling points, but the good thing is that in such situations, one person always becomes the peace-maker, the mediator.
I would much rather die than give up on my band. We may not make money, we may not be famous. However, every time we hit the stage, I feel protected, I feel at one with the three and at the end of the day, we feel the exact same things-the reason I play music in the first place.
The biggest compliment I received last night was probably from M who in his drunken stupor said that I have balls of steel. Songwriters need to have some balls, they need to have an opinion, it can't be about love songs and romances all the time. Even if it is, then you really need to feel what you say, fucking someone and writing a song about them is cheating, it's being lazy. Also we're living in an era where romance is essentially dead, this is not the 60s and the 70s. The acid we drop is not pure. The ecstasy we abuse is to get us to fuck, not make love. Despite what others may think of it, I enjoy industrial rock, it is dirty like the crack the world is on. It is grotesque and it is on you to find the beauty in it.
M once said something very profound on the lines of musicians either playing with their cocks or their assholes, which I find to be quite true. But maybe instead of cock and asshole, I'd say heart/mind and body. I don't want to be the latter. It's okay if I can't sing like Freddie Mercury, I can however, be the best damn Suyasha there is. So many people start playing music for such wrong reasons, the most obvious one being to get laid. Or to be famous and make money. But what they don't realise is that if you have nothing to say, you're not going to be able to achieve any of those things.
Women, or rather girls, in particular are even worse at these things. So many girls I know start singing (because hello, just about anybody can sing, it's the easiest thing to do in a band!) because they want to be a famous model or an actress. They obviously can't hold on to the spotlight and when the audience is bored of what they see, they move on to other things. If there's anything I'd hate to be, that would be to be a fad and nothing more. I don't want to be known for the way I look and the way I sing, I want to be known for what I have to say.
Live music is a time-bomb and not every woman has the strength of Aunty J. I desperately want to be as strong, wise and elegant as she is when I'm her age. I've seen too many skanks around and I know, I just know, that twenty years down the line, none of them will remain. They will get married to rich men and have their babies, that will be their career. I'm not envious of those around me because some may have more popularity, more money than I do. But I'm not here for those things, I am here because this is the only thing I can do, I don't have a choice. Music is my life.
So going back to the whole "I'm with the band" sentence, sometimes girls need to find their own scene and not become the hellwoman from This Is Spinal Tap. It's frankly quite embarrassing because no one takes groupies seriously, they're just fuck and throw. If I were to meet Kurt Cobain in a hypothetical situation, I still wouldn't be his groupie, I'd just be a musician talking to another, perhaps a more experienced one.
PS-If you think about it, Kurt Cobain ultimately fell for a musician (whether you like her or not is not the point!), not one of this groupies. There's your example.
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