Some regularity, thanks to TV!

I figured that if I ever want to actually be an author, I need to stop being lazy about writing. Of course, whether I have readers or not is another matter altogether. So even though I don't really have anything to write (of course, there is always ample frustration in life that can easily find a vent here, but there are too many blogs of cry-babies, and I won't quite enjoy the association), I will write something all the same.

Might as well share some funny trivia. I was watching the news yesterday, and there was a story about a would-be groom who was thrashed by the would-be bride's family after he refused to marry her right before the wedding on the grounds that she was ugly. (For those of you who are ignorant about things outside their own little worlds, there are such things as arranged marriages. If anyone wants to engage in a discussion about its merits/demerits and notions of individuality and human rights involved, feel free to comment, and I will respond. And just for the record, I personally don't have a stance on it one way or the other.) Of course, soon after beating up the guy (who claimed he had been cheated), the bride's family filed a dowry case against the guy.

Its no news that American TV programming is often obnoxious, even the crap they dish out to the rest of the world. Commenting on a protest against the war on Iraq in Athens, this is what a programme had to say "They seem to have forgotten that if it weren't for us, they would still be living in some hick town in Hitlerville. Don't make us come out there after you with bombs and planes, because we will!" Wow. So much love, it kills me.

I am going to start working again soon. Hopefully, that is. Not that I am looking forward to it, but I need to pay off a huge damn loan which I took to study a bit, just so that I could take a break from work. Working does suck ass. Anyway, I will be going for an interview to be a professional interviewer. Sounds almost ironic. But any suggestions anyone?

Before I go, I will leave here another bit of writing from the past. Pretty weird stuff, this one. And at the time I wrote it, I meant a lot of it. And bits towards the end, I still mean some of it. Hehe.

I don't know how, but somehow - maybe a vision or something - but he seemed to know that our destinations were the same. He levelled his thumb and I stopped the car next to him.
Hi, can you give me a ride?
Where to?
The end of the world
The soft throbbing inside me pounds at my soul as I see flashes of darkness, that blanket me like thick mist over a lake.
I was walking by the lake one evening when I came across two beautiful women. We got talking. One was called happiness, and the other, hope. After some time, we parted ways and haven't met since. I often wondered what became of them, till the day I read in the news that they had been raped and killed. And I have been incurably sad ever since. They said, drink and forget your sorrows. All I did was throw up. They said, dope and forget your worries. All I did was talk philosophy. They said, make love and forget the world. All I did was ejaculate. Is that all there is to life? Sex, booze and drugs? A little voice in the back of my mind screams a huge Y-E-S-YES! at me.
I woke up to find myself on this one way escalator going upwards towards the top of this cliff next to a sea of hopelessness. The cliff is made of depression. There is only one way to get down - jump off the edge. I stand on the edge for sometime, contemplating whether to jump. As I let myself freefall, expecting to crash into the soft stillness below, an air cushion obstructs my way, lifts me up and places me right back on the elevator.
I can hear them in my head, blaring horns, blazing guns, crying children, dying housewives. I am afraid my head will burst open. Not because it will kill me. Because it will spill the seeds all around. Seeds of tales of true horror that this world is infested with. The seeds will germinate. And make this place more terrible than it already is.