To cut a long story a little longer...

It was funny how an 'IT superpower' banned the whole of blogspot.com for months on end only because it wanted to block access to 2-3 blogs that it found anti-national. Thats why I could not access my own blog soon after I made my first post, and the habit that had never formed died a premature death. So here I am, giving it another go.

But of course, laziness has its own big role in my life, and I do not wish to deny it its few moments in the spotlight. So I will put something here that I wrote on a good day some months back. Still as valid as ever. And I don't say its great, but for fuck's sake, even if you like it a lot, don't rip it off. Just let me know.

While the true spirit of youth still hasn’t left us, when we are still hot-blooded and raring to do everything that qualifies as dangerous, and when rules are still made to be broken, there are three things that matter to a person; sex, drugs and rock and roll.

Everything at stake, not a care in the world and new territories to chart and everything else to try out, we are like rolling stones, flowing rivers or the blowing wind. Here this minute, gone the next. At it now, done and over with then. This bed today, that one tomorrow.

Anyway, age catches up and responsibilities come crashing in like meteors, leaving behind abysmal craters that last a lifetime. Too much at stake, much to account for. The flowing rivers have reached the plains to become slow and sluggish. We grow up.

Somewhere along the way, love comes along, and the next thing we know, life is a different place. The rolling stones all come to a halt. The moss has finally gathered around. The pheromones do their smelly business, the heart hops and skips beats, and we join the ever-bulging ranks of the fallen. All those butterflies in the stomach, they make us dizzy with pleasure that we can’t get enough of. And then, one day, following the lead of the butterflies, we come face to face with someone.

Say hello to heartache, friends, Romeos, countrywomen. And oh, to heartbreak too. Say hello too, to some more rolling of the stones in the hay. And there we are, without the triangular energy of youth, robbed of our crutches that was once love, in a world full of fools who once trod the same path as us.

Too many fools surround us, for who can resist the magical lure of love? And in this pool of fools, we swim towards unsure shores that take shape as we draw closer. We grow up some more; we grow old. This is where we go our separate ways, thanks for your company though.

My shore is called insanity. Feels like I spent all my life on these comforting black sands.