Introspection on recent events

I'll try and stay as I am, stay awake,
But it's hard, it's hard to go on,
When you know there's nothing to fall back on, no other road to take,
Nothing to push me but desperation, I'm repulsed more than I am drawn.

So, will you save me from this,
My hell, where I feel fear,
So acute, so painful, so oppressive, so visceral,
Help me, for I am still rudderless, help me steer.

Because I drift on the open seas,
Like a nomad, who travels because he likes to,
Not because he has to for his woman or his children or kin,
But maybe all that has changed now, changed for the better, changed for true.

Then why does it not feel like it should feel,
Why does it not feel true, feel safe, feel strong,
And yet there does not seem like anything is wrong,
Everywhere, everyone, dancing to the same beats, singing the same song

Or is that the reason, and am I too much of a rebel?
Or am I clear, like so many aren't, like so many believe,
Like so many robots, so many assembly piece products,
Churned out everyday, everywhere, in front of everyone, like it's all falling out,
Like there's a huge gaping hole in the sieve.

And every one falling in the same place, doing the same thing,
Having the same life, marrying the same wife,
spanking the same children, ignoring the same parents,
coveting the same fantasies, suffering the same strife,

Order, even in the most disordered life,
Conformation, in the most free-flowing souls, souls almost impossible to breach
Because everyone has a plan, and eveyone follows it,
And the one's who don't are rare, and put down,
Or raised to a pedestal that no one realistically aspires to reach.

Forgive me my little preachings,
I know they are pretentious and arrogant,
And I know a lot of, make that almost all, of what I say is non-sense
So don't heed my words, I'm a bit bitter, and I am a bit tired,
Rest assured, even if you have read this, nothing I say is sacrosanct.

Exams and professions

It's funny. It's mortifying. When exams come around, the feelings one goes through.

I've never been a person who worries about exams or the result. I've never felt crushing disappointment when I've done badly, nor boundless joy when I've done well (not too many times). And my emotions are just migrating towards the mean point as the days go by. There are no sleepless night nowadays even when my preparations aren't all that good, no confident strutting around when I know I'm going to do well. It's just one series of boring and indifferent reactions to the whole concept of going there and writing those few words in the papers provided, which are oh so important. And they probably are. But it just doesn't get the adrenaline flowing any more.

Why? Maybe because I am not yet sure what I want to do in my life. And should I be sure? I have no idea. Probably. I mean it has to be the ideal situation if you know what you're going to do for the rest of your life when you've just about finished 20% of it. I don't though. I'd like to drift along for another 2-3 years or so, but I can't and that's just the long and short of it. And therefore I'm off to join the scores and scores of engineering hopefuls that my country is producing by the buckets.

But what else is there though. I'd like to write for my food, journalism being the most obvious choice then as a profession. I'd like to travel as well, so the journalism thing still is a winner. But it doesn't pay all that much now, does it? Not really. And I'm not sure I can sit on a fence as much as being true to my profession would require.

Oh well, when I write the next time, my immediate future would probably have been decided. And I probably won't be able to change it for some time now. And that scares me more than exams ever have.

Absence

Yes, I've been absent from my blog for quite some time now. A lot of factors played their part for my untimely and unfortunate departure from these blessed pages. Because the blog was 'found' by people I was hoping this would be a secret, not to be seen, because I am just extraordinarily lazy, because I knew not many people would be holding their breath waiting for my next post (in case, anyone did, my apologies and condolences), and also because I plain forgot about this place.

But now that I've kept a sufficiently low profile for the last 6 months or so, I'm ready for a comeback and ready again to write the crap that only I can write, and only I and a few very unfortunate souls read, who stumble upon my lair. My heart goes out to them, brave martyrs.

Goodbye.

PS - If I don't actually post regularly and disappear again and this was just a premature attempt at a comeback, I'd advise not waiting with bated breath. Lung problems are sure to follow.

Absence

Well, yeah, I have been absent from the blogger world for sometime now. Because I was 'found' by people I know, people I wanted this place to be a secret from, because I was too lazy, because I couldn't find something to write about, because I know not many people actually read my blogs, so I wouldn't actually be missed, and also because I had forgotten about this place.

But right now, I think it's safe to make a comeback. I've kept a sufficiently low profile this long, so I doubt anyone would be checking on the blog nowadays. So, I hope I'll be churning out a few posts from now on with more regularity than I've done so far. You probably hope the opposite (well I'll be damned if I know why you are reading this then), so we're all in agreement. Sort of.

No that didn't make sense...... or did it? D'oh!

Sweeney Bloodyknifehands

       From the start to the end, you're left in no doubt that it's a Tim Burton film. All of his dark, macabre, eccentric signatures are right in place in the film, unmistakeable, subtle and in your face in the same time.

        London is dreary and hopeless, a god forsaken city, inhabited by vermin, as Sweeney so menacingly tells us. Who is Sweeney? Well, he was a barber with a different (more normal) name, with a pretty wife and a pretty child, who is packed off to Australia on false charges, because judge (Turpin) has eyes on Sweeney's wife. Until he's found by a young sailor (Anthony) 15 years later. When he moves back to his house/shop in Fleet Street, he finds the landlady (Mrs. Lovett, who's as much of a loony as Sweeney) baking the worst meat-pies in London, who tells him about the fate of his family. The wife raped by the judge, later gulps down arsenic, and the child adopted by the same judge who is the root of all of Sweeney's misery. Thus he goes mad with rage. After that follows a series of events which is best left covered up. I'll divulge only the following : the sailor who saved Sweeney falls in love with his daughter (I feeeeeeeeel youuuuu, Johannaaaaa!!), and the judge also wants to make her his wife. Oh and the chair, though I guess most promos have already shown it (again and again) - sinister, very very sinister.

         Johnny Depp just becomes more immense with every film, every performance. There's not much more to say really. One of the finest of his generation. Helena Bonham-Carter is brilliant as well. Infact, I can't think of anyone else to play Mrs, Lovett, even more so than Depp/Sweeney, she's so perfect. You fall in love and are repulsed by her in equal measure. BRILLIANT. Alan Rickman is suitably evil, Timothy Spall as slimy as he has ever been. Sacha Baron Cohen, as Signor Pirelli, a rival barber, who in a way starts 'it', is madcap as always (very good actor nonetheless). The sailor and the daughter don't have much to do, but do it well anyways. Toby, the boy employed by Pirelli from a work-house, and later Mrs. Lovett is surprisingly good as well. Surprisingly because you don't expect a child to be an important character in a movie like this, and it finally turns out he is.
 
        The music's quite good. The singing's quite decent, the situations almost perfect. Go to the theatres to see a film which is quite exquisitely, breathtakingly, brilliantly beautiful. The humour will almost induce a laugh, and then a blush that you could laugh at things like that. There'll be people you pity, who you shouldn't, and enjoy deaths of people you should pity. The actors will own you for those couple of hours, the film will possess you. I mean, a musical about serial killing. You'd be stupid not to see it.

         However if you're queasy in the sight of blood, stay faaaaaar away. This is one of the bloodiest, most violent films I've ever seen.