Friday, July 7, 2017

Omnissiah is a fat dude sitting in a lazyboy with the remote in one hand and (root) beer in another

God damn it all to hell. Write damn you, write. Enough excuses. All these tech toys ate into your soul. Poisons the imagination. Toil. Work. Hustle. Suffer. Burn your hands. Poke your eyes out. Melt your brains. Just do something damn you. Smoke your pipe. Pour coffee down your nostrils. Squeeze lemon in your eyes. Suffer. Pee fire. Shit bricks.
Set the cat on fire. Trim the lawn with scissors. Just get off your ass and create something. Drag it out kicking and screaming out of his hidey-hole. Sock him in the nads. Hand him a pen and paper. Tell him- go to work. Shut him in a windowless room, with only a table, a chair and a table lamp for company. Leave him gibbering mad, cold to the bones for the brightest of suns, the warmest of colours is in the head. Let the juice flow. Let it burn. Something. Anything. For fuck's sake. Live. Let the day end with something. Anything.

Thursday, May 18, 2017


Currently i am sitting at the 30th floor of a hotel built in 1982, sipping coffee and smoking my nuts off.

The missus and boy are downstairs. Asleep. Both tired of their day's exertion. Me, i could not sleep. I have a lot on my mind right now.Hence the coffee, and smoking.

On Tuesday, we said goodbye to the office. Handed over the keys to the landlord. Saddens both me and the missus  but it had to be done. Made no sense to spend on a space occassionally used. It was more of a man cave than an office to me.

On Saturday we sold most of our office furniture to a fellow lawyer. We kept only a small file rack, the meeting table, 3 folding chairs, 2 small coffee table and a shoe rack.
The firm made its first tactical retreat in 3 years. Still it had to be done. Sometimes i wonder what would the Fil would say had he still be around.

On Sunday the week before, the boy turned 1. Had a small gathering of family and friends, ate cake, murdered lamb (in curry form and roasted) and lived on leftovers the next few days(at least i did). The missus and i felt what all parent felt (i think): time flew away to fast. From a helpless poop and fart machine the boy grew in short time into a strapping young lad who is about to get his feet in a few weeks time.

Two days ago i received news that an aunt on my father's side passed away. I had just met her and my uncle at a family event barely a month ago. She was by all apperances, healthy.

So now, i sit on the 30th floor, sipping coffee and smoking, taking it all in. That feeling that life is fleeting

Monday, January 16, 2017

The Laughing Heart

The Laughing Heart

your life is your life

don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.

be on the watch.

there are ways out.

there is light somewhere.

it may not be much light but

it beats the darkness.

be on the watch.

the gods will offer you chances.

know them.

take them.

you can’t beat death but

you can beat death in life, sometimes.

and the more often you learn to do it,

the more light there will be.

your life is your life.

know it while you have it.

you are marvelous

the gods wait to delight

in you.

-- by Charles Bukowski

Saturday, January 14, 2017


Wattpad suggested to me one direction fanfics and other related things. Gila.

I am all for writing on what you love and know but some things should forever remain in your hard drive or even better, in your head.

Just came back from a meeting. Drove home while listening to Bukowski reading his stuff. I wonder why a drunk reliving his drunken existence/ observation can be so engaging.

My exposure to poetry is limited to what they ram down your throat in school and the Shakespeare i know is limited to the line : to be or not to be (because i often ask my self that). I dont understand all the fuss over Lang Leav. I failed to see the beauty of two lines saying how sexy an ovary can be. Simply said, i have no fine appreciation for poetry. A philistine. An uncultured hick but God help me. I think i kinda like Bukowski.

Can you get drunk on green tea?