Call Me

An out of character song for Shinedown, but a song that somehow seems very apt for me right now. You gotta love those moments in the shower when iTunes decides to speak to you!


So here it is: "Call Me" by Shinedown. Enjoy!

An Open Goodbye

Dear Sunshine,

I know how much you detest these open shows of affection, but perhaps you can forgive me this one last time. I don't really know where to start. How do I begin to express the feelings I'm going through right now, without sounding unbelievably corny? And I know how much you pretended to hate my corny lines. Oh, how you embarrassed me with them! But I knew that inside your devil-may-care exterior was one of the biggest hearts I have known.

It's barely been 24 hours since you said goodbye, and already things seem different. It's unbelievable what an impact you have had on my life, and now that you are gone I see it more than ever. Still, it was the right decision. We both knew this would end - you always were a level-headed girl, and we both knew that long distance relationships just don't work. Yet, we tried. It was too difficult to let go of what we had, especially since it was for such a short time.

I don't think either of us can even begin to imagine how magical this could have been. The possibilities, had we met at another time and place - it just rips my mind. But all we have is here, and now, and that's why this is goodbye. Of all the things I have had to let go in life, this is by far one of the hardest.

I look back at our postcard-type memories and I struggle to convince myself it was all real. In a time of continuous struggle and heartbreak, you were the one sole ray of joy that invaded the darkness of my life. I know you have always felt like you were in the shadows of my previous relationships, especially considering how long and serious they were. You and I had just a few months together, precious few months. But one thing is for sure - while I have always held regrets over certain actions in my past relationships, the memory of ours will forever be untainted.

I miss you already. Heck, I missed you 5 seconds after you said it was over.

You will still be my closest ally - a true member of the Darkside! I know that you will always be there for me when I need you, and I promise to do the same for you with all my strength. Thank you for making me a better man; what more can I ask for in a girl?

I had picked this song to sing before this happened, but now it seems eerily appropriate. I hope you find the time to listen to it.

Till we meet again,

Yours, always,


G

Click here to download the audio.

Welcome To The Darkside

I'm sure that while getting here, at some point or the other your brain would have registered the fact that this blog is titled "Darkside Daily". Next, your brain notices the black and white layout, the dark clouds etc. Then you may or may not notice the profile picture, the little black Batman-in-shadows picture. Then, through no fault of its own, your brain proceeds to 'deduce'. "Aha!", your brain tells you, "this guy sounds evil! I bet he's a tall skinny guy, with an evil countenance, a hip flask and a total badass attitude! He probably wears only black, has a ponytail and a beard, listens to Pantera and rides a black motorcyle with a flaming skull insignia on it!" And so you start reading, with the expectation that the content of the blog will reflect this mental image that your brain has so astutely assembled for you.

But wait? Christian music? A post about love? Videos of a headless piano player??

So then you set about writing comments about how I am some sort of charlatan for duping you into this little misconception, but really, is that my fault? Isn't it possible that I have a form of deep psychological issue wherein the colour black makes me feel 'whole again'? Perhaps other colours in the spectrum remind me of some traumatic kindergarten incident involving crayons??

Alright, perhaps I am stretching it a bit. Either way, I think it's time I explained the Darkside movement. Many moons ago, I wrote a post about my reason for blogging. However, I don't think I've ever mentioned where the whole 'Darkside' came from.

That story starts in India, when I went to join university. The place where I was studying was basically a student city, as it was filled with various different colleges and offered various programmes from engineering to medicine to hotel management and even - wait for it - jewellery management (don't ask). The two largest campuses belonged to the medicine and engineering colleges, which were often at odds with each other. The church I went to consisted of mainly medical students, and there was a friendly (and sometimes not so friendly) rivalry between the medical and engineering students.

You see, the medical students were considered to be intellectual book worms that spent long hours either in the hospital or in the library, speaking a language that could not possibly be English. Most of them were rich, and a large percentage were Indians who had lived in America all their life, thus turning them into identity confused individuals with loads of cash and annoying accents. Besides, being a medical student also entitled you to certain rights, such as the use of the 'doctor' aura which is accepted around the world as a way to walk with your nose a little higher and also entitles you to free parking. And don't get me started on their lab coats!

The engineering students on the other hand were different. They were generally not so affluent, neither were they as sophisticated as their medical counterparts. Instead they were into fighting, partying, smoking weed, blasting loud hindi music, cutting class, cheating on exams and generally being total idiots. Good natured, intelligent, practical idiots, but idiots nonetheless. Add to the fact that the engineering campus was considered to be somewhat alien territory to the medical students, and you may see where I'm going with this.

So among my church going friends, I was a bit of an outcast to begin with. I had subjects none of them had heard of, was involved in activities and labs that none of them could relate to and I had absolutely no understanding of any medical jargon they happened to use in conversation with me. However, instead of feeling alienated, I somehow revelled in being different. I'm not usually the kind of person that likes to stand out in a crowd, but for some reason, I enjoyed the aura of mystery and wrong-doing that was handed to me simply because I was an engineer. Engineers just handled problems differently, and whenever I mentioned an alternate solution they would say "Oh, that would only work in the Darkside...!"

Society celebrates people that speak their mind, but there is a subtle catch. When I look around, I find that the people that are 'outspoken' are all saying exactly the same thing; so really, what is the point? It has almost become fashionable to be cynical about everything under the sun while at the same time we are ruthlessly tolerant about other things. Yes, apparently being part of the 'minority' is also fashionable! We like to label ourselves as people that 'call it as it is' but really, is being a total jackass part of the job description? Having a hope for the future or for the present is just a bit too 'Dave Matthews' and not enough 'Dave Navarro' for us, so we turn into these venom-spitting 'rebels' that believe in values simply because it's the 'in' thing.

Being part of the Darkside doesn't mean you're against everything from celebrities to celibacy for the sake of image. I call it the way I see it too, but I'm not an idiot about it. When my medical student friends complained about the lack of preparation time before an exam, I used to suggest selective study and writing long elaborate answers to confuse the examiners; I didn't suggest burning down the exam hall and parading naked in the streets in protest against examinations.

Bottom line: it's time to change the world. But perhaps, it's also time we change the way we 'change the world'.

Leave Out All The Rest

As tempted as I was to write a stinker of a post to defend the Darkside, I was forced to put that on hold when I was struck by inspiration at the keyboard. It was late, and I was just messing around, so this video may not be of stellar quality, but I quite like it if I do say so myself. As I told a fellow blogger, these headless videos of mine aren't audition tapes for American Idol, so it doesn't matter that much to me. But if you're a musician or a singer, you'll understand the need and desire to perform in front of an audience, not necessarily for their approval but rather for the sake of your own release.


I hope you like it; it is my own rendition, but I hope it still retains something from the original.


Cheers!


G


Click here to download the song.

Linkin Park - Leave Out All The Rest

EDIT: I've redone this cover and added it on youtube here. To download the new version, just click here.

Music And Lyrics

Growing up in Sri Lanka, it was only hip-hop music. We had a friend who used to listen to Metallica and Nirvana back in the early 90's, and we used to label him a freak (he is now the lead singer of one of our leading metal bands, but anyway). After heading to India though I was introduced to modern rock, right about the time mainstream rock was undergoing a revival of sorts. Over the last few years I may have sort of lost touch with the hip hop scene, but I am rapidly making amends.


Recently I discovered this song by Sage Francis, which is beautiful in its lyrical content, but is made even better by this video I found for it on Youtube.








Another song which I stumbled upon is "Dreamin' " by Young Jeezy featuring Keyshia Cole. It's an old song, but certain parts of it stood out for me.

Moms smokin rocks same shit im sellin
So who's wrong her or me
She addicted to tha high im addicted to tha cash
Almost put my hands on here when i caught her in my stash
How could i do her like dat lord knows im wrong
Why would i do her like dat lord know she strong
I kno its been hard but we made it baby
10 years clean so she still my lady i must be dreamin

--------


There's two types of niggas : predator and prey
I'm a predator, I pray three times a day
Mat Lue once said one day you'll have kids
And how you gon' explain all that shit you did?
I'm a soul survivor, far from a crook
She always said I was a lot smarter than I look
So I took my dreams and I made it some thousands
Then I took my life and I made it an album, I must be dreamin'

I've often said I'm no poet, neither do I 'get it' half the time, but I definitely appreciate the lyrical genius one can find in song. These two are by no means the best examples of that, but it was something I felt like sharing.


One more courtesy Talib Kweli - "Around my way":

This is for my soldier niggaz looking in the mirror who
Sitting home scratching off serials eating cereal
The way we find a way to survive, shit is a miracle
We got mice in the crib and roaches in the toasters, rice in the fridge
Bread in the oven by the roaster
We be takin' gypsy cabs and chasin' 50 bags
They be laced with shitty swag and it really get me mad
The way we saluting flags, wrapping them around our heads
when niggaz ain't become American till 9/11
Feeling like you gotta sneak into heaven
When the reverend looking like a pimp and the pimp look like the reverend

And rounding it off with the late great 2Pac - Better Dayz:

I got a girl and I love her but she broke too and so am I

I can't take her to the place she wanna go to

So we argue and play fight all day and night

Making passionate love 'til the daylight

'Cos we about to be evicted, can't pay the rent

Guess it's time to see who really is your friend

Tell me you're pregnant and I'm amazed

So many blessings while we stressin', lookin' for them better days

What about you? Feel free to send it in.


Cheers!


G

Can I Get Some Wings, Please?

Aerophobia, aviatophobia, aviophobia or pteromechanophobia - technical and tongue twisting ways to say the same thing - "I'm afraid to fly".


And who can blame you, if you are such a person. Flying is a terrifying act to us humans, who were specifically designed to patrol the earth and leave the skies and the seas to lesser creatures that haven't invented waste disposal yet. But no, thanks to the obsessive and persevering nature of the Orville brothers, we now have passenger planes of all shapes and sizes, helicopters, fighter jets, unmanned drones, Harry Potter - well the list is practically endless.


Now that we are in the 21st century (the magical century where all man's problems are expected to be solved at the push of the proverbial 'button') air travel has become as common place as other more 'down to earth' modes of transportation like buses, taxis and that age old favourite of mine - walking. But despite our familiarity with all things airborne, we have yet to discover a way to put to death our ancestral 'fear' of growing wings. Well that's not entirely true, we sort of have - but it includes terms like "cognitive behaviour therapy" and "systematic desensitization" which make it sound like one of the items planned for Osama's daily routine in Guantanamo bay.


Another method of treatment for this phobia is "hypnotherapy". Basically, if you can't step on an air plane without your heart rate ballooning to Hindenburg proportions, you have serious transmission problems upstairs.


So is this solely a genetic fear passed down from the first time some caveman hopped on the back of a Pterodactyl? Doubtful - much more likely is the sad history we humans have when we take to the skies. From the Hindenburg disaster back in the 1930's, all the way to last week when a passenger plane plowed into a house in New York, we still live in the happy delusion that travelling by air is the safest form of travel. Sure, that's what everyone tells us, but for the moment let us just pretend that bit of information is as credible as career advice from Paris Hilton.


Let us review this whole flying business and try to figure out where all the fear is coming from. Whenever I go through airports I am constantly on edge for a number of reasons. Will my bags be overweight? Are my documents in order? Does my passport picture look like me? Do I want veg or non-veg? Aisle or window? Is that a gun or is he just happy to see that Chanel ad? As for airport security, well, I have often mentioned before that I don't grouse the additional security, but when they pull out your water bottle and shake it in front of you with that smug look on their face as if they've just discovered plutonium, anyone's nerves would be shaken.



But the most fear inducing part of flying has to be the safety demonstrations. Let's be honest, when they show you how to buckle your seat belt, aren't you a little let down? Surely by now we would have devised something a little more 'Jetsons' and a little less 'Flintstones' than tying ourselves into the seat. Plus, the way the air hostess' slowly and carefully explain the process of buckling and unbuckling makes it look like they're giving you instructions on how to drive the lunar module. Then we move on to the life jackets. Seriously, has anyone ever seen a real life jacket that didn't have "Demonstration only" written on it? I've always been too scared to check in case I reach under the seat and pull out a yellow rain coat with "Haha Sucker!" written on it.


By this stage in the safety demonstration any sane man would be slightly uneasy, and so just to top it all off, they mention the abundance of emergency exits in the plane. But just when you think they'll finally give you a piece of comforting information, the hostess points in the general direction of the rear of the air plane and makes a sort of vague 'breast stroke' motion. Naturally, you turn around in your seat to see what she's pointing at, which as it usually turns out, is just row upon row of seats with equally confused passengers. Puzzled, you turn back to the hostess, only to see her now pointing in the opposite direction! Slowly, as the panic descends upon you, you try to raise your hand or get out of your seat to have a better look, only to be told firmly to 'buckle your seat belt, sir, we are about to take off'. But I don't want to take off! Not like this!


Naturally, I have a solution to all this. And it really is quite simple, if you think about it. When you're in a car, the safety mechanisms involved make sure that in a collision you are cocooned in an air bag, and that the body of the car absorbs as much of the shock as possible. Why? Because the most likely form of car accident is a collision, so there would be really no point in inserting a life raft under the steering, would there? Similarly, when you're in a plane, the most likely cause of death is plummeting to the ground while being strapped into the fuselage. Solution?


Parachutes.


What? If fighter jets get to have an ejector seat, why can't they make one for passenger planes? Can you imagine the number of lives that would have been saved with this device? "Ladies and gentlemen, in case of engine failure or any other technical fault, please press the red button on your arm rest. You will be ejected into the atmosphere, after which a chute will automatically open so that you can drift safely down to earth while this metal tomb erupts in a ball of fire somewhere in the distance." Now that would give me some peace.


As for the technology, don't tell me we don't have it. The airline industries spend billions of dollars installing in-flight entertainment systems that allow us to watch movies, listen to music and play games; and really, what's the point in playing black jack with yourself as your aircraft falls to the ground faster than Lindsay Lohan on a wild weekend?


"Oh, 15! Hit me!"


If the electronic 'dealer' doesn't, rest assured the fast approaching ground definitely will.

Love Actually

Love suffers long and is kind,
love does not envy,
love does not parade itself, is not puffed up,
does not behave rudely,
does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil;
does not rejoice in inquity, but rejoices in the truth;
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails.

1 Corinthians 13:4 - 8

There Will Be A Day - Jeremy Camp

I try to hold on to this world with everything I have
But I feel the weight of what it brings, and the hurt that tries to grab
The many trials that seem to never end, His word declares this truth,
that we will enter in this rest with wonders anew

But I hold on to this hope and the promise that He brings
That there will be a place with no more suffering

[Chorus]
There will be a day with no more tears, no more pain, and no more fears
There will be a day when the burdens of this place, will be no more, we'll see Jesus face to face
But until that day, we'll hold on to you always

I know the journey seems so long
You feel you're walking on your own
But there has never been a step
Where you've walked out all alone

[Chorus]

Troubled soul don't lose your heart
Cause joy and peace he brings
And the beauty that's in store
Outweighs the hurt of life's sting

I can't wait until that day where the very one I've lived for always will wipe away the sorrow that I've faced
To touch the scars that rescued me from a life of shame and misery this is why this is why I sing

Domestic Disturbance

Though many have questioned my affinity for evil (with MC going so far as to say I have just a 'tinge'), I must agree that even I am not evil enough to make light of fights in the family. I have been on this earth 24 years now, and in almost every circle of society I have been a part of, there is always at least one tale of sorrow and separation in the family unit.


It's no surprise that in today's world, divorce is on the rise. We have no trouble blaming it on 'Western influences', just like we blame everything from obesity to global warming on them. Perhaps there is some grain of truth in it though; the ease in which divorces seem to be reached nowadays in the western world is probably motivation for us to seek the easy way out rather than to stick it out and fix issues. Not only that, but divorce has become so much more socially acceptable that any deterrent effect that may have had on a couple seeking divorce has evaporated.


I am not married, and I have no backing to lay blame or to declare the right and wrong of the issue. Personally, I have what may be considered an 'old-fashioned' view on marriage, in that I consider it binding. I believe in the sanctity of marriage, just like I believe in God. I don't know about you, but I'd be rather unnerved, to say the least, to break a promise that I make in front of God and a cloud of witnesses. Naive? Sue me.


But when I think about the youth of today, growing up in families that are continuously on edge, tearing each other apart, living in a world filled with violence, anger, lies, betrayal - I wonder perhaps if separation is, in a way, a sweet release. If you told a child that mom and dad will stop fighting if they separate, I think anyone would take it.


My family, just like every family, has had problems. I know full well how it feels to wake up in the morning and pray that the issues of the previous night have been resolved and do not find their way to the breakfast table. I know full well how it feels when those prayers are not answered. However, I am an adult, and so I have to think like one as well. And I wonder, how fair is it for me to expect a family to stay together just for the kids? Isn't that asking for too much; asking grown men and women to put up with their hatred and disgust with each other simply so that they can give an impression of unity to the kids and the outside world?


We have too many young adults in the world now with daddy issues. While some of them may turn out alright and record songs about their problems like Staind, the rest are only contributing to the broken next generation. The problem with marriage, in my opinion, is that we are naive to think it only affects the two people involved. It doesn't. This isn't dating, and you're not in high school. There are families involved, not only when there are children, though that just makes it all the more detrimental.


Perhaps we just need to take a step back and realise what marriage really entails before we dive into it simply because our folks are getting antsy for grandchildren or because some dude fell on his knees at dinner and shoved a diamond into your gaping face.


And this is my version of Staind's "For You". Click here to download the song if you don't have the patience to watch the video.

Staind - For You

Single Ladies (Put A Rant On It)

While going through my regular reads of the blogosphere, I came across an interestingly titled post by the Colombo Ranter - "Hawt Male Bloggers". As I started reading, my dark mind immediately kicked into gear. "Women.. pfft! Why are they so emotional? So naive? So easily swayed by the words of faceless men! To assume they can judge hotness by a style of writing - ha!"


Then I saw my name (well a variant of it at any rate).


My dark mind immediately kicked into Grammy mode - "Wow. I just want to take this opportunity to thank the fans, y'know. This ones for you. I like to thank my producer, my stylist, lil Jim, Black Suga, Universal rec-curds, for BELIEVING in me! To my mom, my baby sistah, my kids, even the ones I don't know about. Err. To all the haters, y'know, I made it yall! And, err, thank you Gawd. Yeah."


So with much appreciation to DC for mentioning the darkside, I know present to you the "Hawt female bloggers" list, in no particular order, straight from the classified section of the darkside archives.



1. Bohemian Gypsy

Gypsy sort of came out of nowhere, but wow can the girl write! Who doesn't like a girl with a vivid imagination, and if we gave marks for "mysterious aura" (yes ladies, it works both ways!), the Gypsy takes top prize!


2. Sabby

This leggy blogger (5 foot 7 inches?! Dang...) is beyond cute. Whether she's writing posts to herself, writing to the world in general or ranting about men, her random *looks guilty*, *grins*, *acts cute* and other statements are enough to bring a smile on anyone's face.


3. Scrumpy

With a name like "Scrumpulicious", how could you NOT make this list? Besides that though, she has a style of writing that gives the reader a sense of easy familiarity, and the darkside absolutely loves it!



4. Deecee

Quirky. Creative. French Maid Dress. 'Nuff said.



5. T

She's "So Snazzy", witty, and she loves INCUBUS!! Are you KIDDING me??



I chose not to give ratings because, well, I didn't want to start a virtual catfight (as tempting as that may sound). So to all the ladies mentioned here, the darkside salutes you.


Cheers!



G

Kitchen Chaos

From what I've heard, having a mad family is actually considered 'normal'. If your family is sane and predictable, chances are something is wrong, and you have my sympathies. As for me, despite all evidence to the contrary, I suppose there is hope.

Allow me to illustrate.


/Scene1: Kitchen, during dinner. Radio is on for the news/

[Mom, me and bro talking loudly about random topics]

Dad: Be quiet!! Can't you see I'm trying to listen to the news???

[Silence]

[Over the radio: "..... Chris Brown has just been released from jail, and the rumour is that girlfriend Rihanna's last minute no-show at the Grammy's may be tied to his assault..."]

Dad: .........


/Scene2: Kitchen, during dinner/

Mom: Gehan, this Beyonce - when did she get married?

Me: [taken off guard] errr.. some time ago I think. Why?

Mom: Hmmm. She got in trouble with some old black singer recently no? Because of the song she sang at the Inauguration Ball?

Me: errr.. yeah, Etta James actually. But how did you....?

Mom: She's a nice girl actually, though she dresses - aggressively. But she has a split personality no?

Me: [shock]Yeah, how did you....?

Mom: Yeah, and the other persona she's called some "Sasha Fierce" or something no? That's why on stage and all she's so - aggressive.

Bro: [with mouth full] HUH?? What?? Really??

Me: [marvels at how his 50 year old (sorry mom!) mother knows more about Beyonce than his teenage brother, and wonders if that's a good thing or a bad thing]


/Scene3: Kitchen, after dinner/

[Me trying to convince bro that some weird tiny growth behind his ear is proof that he is actually a Klingon]

Bro: Here shutup! Ma...!! Look what he's saying....!

Mom: It's ok, lots of people have growths..

Bro: MA!!

Me: Yeah, at least it's not like my friend. He has an extra thumb. Even that actor Hrithik Roshan has one.

Bro: What??? Really?? But he's an actor!! Do they show his hands in movies?

Me: .... no, he does all his scenes in a straitjacket...

Bro: ... Wait! Is he married???

Me: [wonders what this has to do with anything] err.. yes...?

Bro: What??? Who would marry someone with an extra finger?? What's wrong with her???

Me: [looks at mom. Mom looks at me. Wonders where we went wrong with the boy]




/End Scene/

For Your Listening Pleasure

"Let It Fade"

Have you been walking on a surface that's uncertain?
Have you helped yourself to everything that's empty?
You can't live this way too long.
There's more than this, more than this.
Have you been standing on your own feet too long?
Have you been looking for a place where you belong?
You can rest, you will find rest.
You can rest, you will find rest.


Let this old life crumble, let it fade.
Let this new life offered be your saving grace.
Let this old life crumble, let it fade, let it fade.

Have you been holding on to what this world has offered?
Have you been giving in to all these masquerades?
It will be gone, forever gone.
It will be gone, it will be gone

Let this old life crumble, let it fade.
Let this new life offered be your saving grace.
Let this old life crumble, let it fade, let it fade.
Let it fade.


Are you carrying the weight too much?, are you running from the call?
Let it fade, Oh yeah.

You can rest, you will find rest.
You can rest you will find rest.

Let this old life crumble, let it fade.
Let this new life offered be your saving grace.
Let this old life crumble, let it fade, let it fade.

Let this old life crumble, let it fade.

Have you been standing on your own feet too long?
Have you been looking for a place where you belong?

I was just going through Youtube and stumbled across this video, which I found to be really touching, especially if you take the words of the song into consideration.


Just a random vid-post on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Cheers!

It's Too Late To Apologise

I have often complained about the overly dramatic and manic depressive nature of the blogosphere. Yes, at times the great writers of Kottu can turn the blogosphere into a brooding pit of remorse and self-pity, somewhat like Celine Dion singing "All By Myself" on repeat.


But perhaps that will allow some people to identify with this post.


We all go through traumatic and difficult phases in life which tend to leave a scar or, in some cases, more permanent damage in its wake. Trials and tribulations are just part and parcel of life, and the common line of advice is that these situations are what truly mold you as an individual.


Sure, I can buy into that. But what happens when life gives you an opportunity to make things better?


I like to fix problems. This doesn't make me a 'meddler', but I do feel that we have too much unnecessary drama in our lives that can be sorted out pretty easily if we're willing to get our hands dirty. However, I believe that when it comes to fixing problems in our own lives, we are not as enthusiastic as we would be were it someone else's. It's almost as if we enjoy carrying our back-breaking burdens around for all to see, and even if we choose not to advertise it, there is something rather 'heroic' about shouldering our load without complaint with a Clint Eastwood-ish grunt of nonchalance about it all.


Or is there more? Recently I was given an opportunity to let someone who had hurt me make reparations; if not in totality, then at least a token starting point for it. The issue at hand is more than some measly "he-said-she-said" wrong by the way, just to be clear. It is an issue that for me has been a black mark on my horizon for the last decade almost; an ugly dent that has damaged the steering of the weather worn roadster that is my life.


So here I was given a chance to open the door to forgiveness, even if I didn't really feel like forgiving anyone. Let bygones be bygones and all - make a brand new start and let go of the past. Perfect.


I didn't take it.


Instead someone very close to me, who was also similarly affected in this whole problem, did take it. He went up and let it all out, and I sat back and watched.


Which leads me to question my own motives - am I being stupid and selfish about this? A snob even....? Do I have too much pride to let go and stop acting like some wounded war hero? Would I rather carry the burden of the past with me so that I can wallow in my self-pity?


No.


There comes a point in your life when you realise that the wrongs of the past have little or no effect on you anymore. It's not because you have forgotten or even forgiven - far from it. Instead, the reason is you have bled so much because of this one wound that you are furious with yourself for being so fragile. You tell yourself you will never let this happen again. You become stronger, in that one area, even at the expense of other areas in your life. You refuse to let it get the better of you, refuse to try and deal with it, because that would mean you have lost the fight.


Bottom line: I chose not to say 'yes' because I still haven't learned. I still haven't beaten this beast, but I can slowly feel it losing its grip on me. I can feel it losing its sting, and I know that all that blood loss was worth it. Without bleeding, we don't get clotting.


So I say 'no'. No to your apologies, 'no' to your attempts at making things better. It is much too late for that. Now I'd rather you leave me alone.


I'm still fighting.

Face Value

As the days go by, the world is becoming more and more tech-savvy. At least, that's the term of choice nowadays, instead of admitting that we're all a bit mad. Yesterday we were drooling over the Blackberry and the iPhone, but today we are designing Blackberry's for kids; yes, a colourful handheld 'PDA style' toy for toddlers that thankfully doesn't connect to the internet. As if the youth of today needed any additional training in the art of text messaging - they basically shoot out of the womb with a wireless headset in their ear, and while in the past the doctor's were greeted by the sound of a baby crying they shouldn't be surprised if they now deliver a baby that's beeping. Exaggeration? Read this. This girl sent 14000 text messages in a month. I rest my case.


In fact, we've come to a place where little or no interaction is required for even the most mundane tasks. Even the age old customs of buying the groceries has now been replaced by the 'internet fridge', which basically allows us to sit in the kitchen and do absolutely nothing while men deliver random food items to your door without you asking for it. If only you didn't have to walk all the way to to the door to sign for it. Eureka!


With this shift that life has taken towards everything cordless, wireless, lossless and pointless, it's not uncommon to find ourselves with a sort of split personality, the online one which everyone sees and adores, and the real one which is a just a tad, well, blah. Sabby wrote an interesting post about blogging and anonymity, and I think it's relevant here.


But what I really want to point out is the paramount importance of the DP, also known as your Display Picture. Yes, it seems that while most of our interactions have now taken to the online format, there are still some people that like to see what you actually look like. I'm sure the tech nerds of all those little internet chat forums etc are still seething against this little detail, but thanks to the magic of photoshop and other such devices, hope is not lost.


See, appearances mean everything, as I wrote earlier. While it's true that most jobs still require a personal interview, the fact that you even got to that stage is at least partly due to that smart looking photograph on your resume. Yes, the one with the slight inclination, the soft toning, the twinkling eyes and in the case of the women (and some men unfortunately) the wind effect blowing your hair into formations that would make Pocahontas jealous. Who wouldn't want that kind of person working for them?


The same can be said for Facebook and other such social networking sites. Your profile pic is what makes or breaks you, especially if you're the type of person looking to meet people online. Don't have a good pic of yourself? No worries - a little sepia effect here, a little cropping there, a little blur effect around there, and voila! You're a movie star. It's also not so common knowledge that companies search for potential candidates names over these sites. So if you send in a crystal clear super glossy high class resume, with bells on, you probably might lose the job if they type your name in google and come up with that profile picture of you smoking a joint at the beach.


Which is why my profile picture is a carefully engineered picture of me just after Christmas service, with the right amount of shading and a slight fading out of the background. It's terribly fake, and my certain someone thought that I had some sort of a cloud behind my head (it was a white bag that had been blurred out), but hey - I want to get hired.


And even if my resume stinks, at least I have a pretty face!

Hemorrhage (In My Hands)

First of all, let me apologise to all you eager readers who thought this was a post about how I got assaulted and am currently bleeding into my hands.


No, the title of this post is in reference to the song of the same name by Fuel, which in fact was the first song I attempted to play on the piano after a six year hiatus from the keyboard. Due to the monotony of music exams and a general dislike of all music teachers on this planet, I had developed such an aversion to the piano that I had never touched it after my last music exam back in 2000, despite my parents persistent insistence. However, one day back in 2006, complete and utter boredom made me meddle around for a bit, and suddenly I realised that playing by ear is a lot easier and a whole lot more fun than playing Bach, Beethoven and Brusselsprouts.


I know that playing a rock song on the piano is a bit - lame; but it's one of my favourite songs, so I hope you enjoy listening to it as much as I enjoyed playing it.


Cheers!


Click here to download the song, if you can't watch the video.