6 a.m

Guns are to bang
Swords are to clang
Ropes are to hang
Men are to die...

Fool Me Nice...

The song plays,
my mind waves sail towards your shores.
My request is in a bottle,
summarized in a conditional type 1 phrase;
If you don't love me, lie to me.

Saving Private O2

Well, there are just some days that stick in your mind with an eternal glue for ever! Last week I went to a military fort to regulate my admission in the city I currently live in. I was ready, cell by cell, to meet anyone & do my best to persuade them to accept me. So I marched through different sections in the unnecessarily enormous fort, room by room, taking tests & collecting all sorts of signatures. Proud of what I had achieved, I took my inch by inch signed recommendation paper to the person, in charge of sending it to the main base. Neatly shaved & dressed pretty manly in black formal pants & coat, I eneterd the room only to find a soldier inside. He stood up, we shook hands & he told me his boss would be back in a matter of minutes. So I sit there, open my magazine ostensibly to wade through it but really to give my presence an intellectual face! & then he enters, a plump man of about 1.65 m, with thin grayish hair & unshaved beard. I stood up politely & started to explain my case n' stuff & he passes me, gets to his desk, leaves his bag there & returns to the door & closes it.

Why did he do that for?? Disturbing noise perhaps, I convince myself & continue firing my words like a machine gun as he turns to face me. Even I, myself felt my words sounding like Blah Blah Blah at some point but decided to keep it up, nevertheless. I paused for a fraction of a second to glare at the soldier tapping on his desk in a disturbing rhythm & lifted my head back to face the I-Should-Buy-Him-A-Gillete guy. As I was speaking continously, he reaches for his belt & opens it & then unbuttons his pants. I am still speaking, with some shadows of question marks, font 10, appearing above my head! Well, he should be trying to fix things, a voice whispers in my head. Makes good sense to me! So I keep on speaking, then he zips down & opens his pants. Now I can definitely feel that the question marks have grown to a heavy font 40 & some exclamation marks are dancing in Tribal African style around them! but my voice covers for the inner incapaility to cope with the situation! A frail voice tries to convince me that this is just for tidying up his shirt while my brain applauds the thought & honors the voice with the Medal Of Self Deciet. But that didn even last a milisecond, as mr. Had-Me-In-A-Trap pulled down his pants without hesitation, breaking my last defensive line! As I witnessed his white, knee-long underwear, my voice gave in deliberately without asking for my permission! It was at that very instant that my brain started mumbling things about no one has turned gay with losing his virginity in the wrong way, so this is how military goes, I should offer him a rubber for my own safety & hell loads more, I was not even listening to. Then mr. Too-old-for-sexual-activity gently turned towards the hanger on his right & hung his pants. I could hear my brain singing "It's the final count down"! 10, 9, 8, 7, 6... & then he turned towards the hanger again only to pick his military green pants this time & cover things up... PHEWWW, SAFE AT LAST!! My brain momentarily started it's engine & my vocal cords began vibrating as if electricity had just returned to the factory! But before they warm up I noticed my feet had left the room trying to pull the rest of me out!!! Just as if they were starring in Saving Private Ass HOLE! Ass-saving completed! LITERALLY!

As my brain was showing signs of relief, it was to take another hit!
I had to meet mr. knee-long-underwears' boss next. I waited in the hall for about 5 mins till he got back & then asked for permission to enter. He gently invited me in. As I stepped inside, he closed the door behind me & said; just because you are a boy! & as I was speaking, he did the whole process in front of me as well!! (he had gray cowboy underwear-pants though!) "WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE" was flashing in my eyes! but the difference was that this time my brain was strangely in tact & singing "I, am too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt..."!! Thanks god I had left my brains amplifier at home or else it would have caused me serious problems!! Anyways after the short preview of how things go in the military, I decided to get the hell out through the door I had come in, before someone closed it. Virginity in tact is sometimes worth much more than one can imagine!

Well it wasn't an entheralling experience but I sure hope I don't look as good-looking as girls think I am, in guys' eyes!!

Global Cooling

Let the CO2 emissions rise!
Burn more forests & fossil fuel!
For I can feel a chill right to my bones.
My blankets are no longer able to keep me warm.

Melancholy

There is a hole in my sole I run to, often
Booby trapped inch by inch for the unexpected visitors.
Even an anti-god-vision system's installed, to ensure total privacy.
For there are moments where the monkey needs to
think, regret & shed more than just a few tears.
Solitude, silence & total detachment...

Terminology

Wisdom, Kingdom, Condom...