It shows us what we want? Whatever we want?
Yes, and no. It shows us, nothing more nor less, than the deepest darkest most desperate desire of our hearts.
It was an empty room. And there was a mirror in that empty room. The mirror, of course was the Mirror of Erised. And as young Anna stood in front of the mirror, she saw…
She saw a man. He was tall, you could see that, though he sat in a chair by a fireside. He was reading a book. Anna could make out the title- it said” The Mill on the Floss”. There was a window by the man, and through it you could see lovely views- the most beautiful hill sides ever imagined; lush flowing, rolling greenery.
A dog barked in the distance.
Anna could see the warmth emanating from the man; he had such a lovely smile. And such a lovely, deep booming laugh. He laughed as she watched him; probably at something he had read. His smile was perfect, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. His hair was beautiful as well You could see he took pride in his appearance; his clothes matched perfectly-highlighting a perfect frame.
All in all, a perfect man.
She could almost imagine a life with him; he’d take her to dinner-he’d open every door for her; he’d be courteous, warm and dignified. He’d take her to the movies; he’d take her all over the world. He would be smart, intelligent, funny. He’d have a job (She didn’t really care too much what he did) that would earn him a lot of money, but wouldn’t keep him employed for too long. He’d be oh-so-talented(she was sure). He would play several instruments, he would sing a beautiful mellow-yet-strong bass, he would write her beautiful poetry and be ever-so-romantic and gentle. He’d never leave her, nor ever let her down. He would never harm her; nor ever let her be harmed. He would lay down his life for her.
She could see that he lived in a beautiful castle.
He was the man she would marry.
…
Of course, she never married him.
…
When we were young; we held so many beautiful dreams. We believed that they would happen too. And often enough, the world “teaches” us “better”; the world “teaches” us to temper our dreams with reality.
….
I wonder….is this a good thing?
I don’t intend to let go of my dreams.
Omni ope atque opera.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Eleanor Rigby
Algorithm:
What do you want?
….
(Store in A)
Why do you want it?
….
(Store in B)
What are the consequences?
…
(Store in C)
Is B>C
Then A.
Else
Screw this whole exercise. You’re wasting your time with A.
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
We are all afraid aren’t we? Afraid of society; afraid of rejection.
Who among you has the courage to bare your heart? To go up to the person you love and say so? I do. I did too; and it locked me in a happy, self-imposed prison.(Author’s note: Not really. But its funny and at times convenient to say that it did. In reality- it sets you free; really) Now, you try.
But…no. There’s convention; there’s ego (there’s always ego);; there’s fear, there’s insecurity.
I’ve advice my friend- take all that and stuff it where the sun don’t shine.
Life’s way too short to sit around waiting for something. Take a shot. Yes, you may fail; yes you may bleed for a while; but you’ll recover. It’s not about how many times you get hit and fall but how many times you get back up. I think Rocky said that.
If you want something- go out and get it. If you want someone- go out and get them. Show me the girl who goes after what she wants and I will show you my kind of woman. Do not live in the hell of a friendship-in-the-hope-that-someday….
Someday won’t come.
Take my word for it.
Someday won’t come.
But what if I’m not good enough?
Never let anyone convince you that you are not good enough for the person you love. I saw that in a rather silly movie once.
What if she says no? Well good then, yeah? Least you’ve got that out of the way. Tell me, do you particularly enjoy doing drugs? ‘Cos that’s what you’re doing now. You’re living in a happy haze; because you are too afraid to live, to love. Here’s what’s going to happen to you:
She’d always been there for him. In all his pictures, you could see her. Standing in the corner; standing along with his friends; smiling her slightly-sad, fake little smile.
Five years later:
She’s still there in all the pictures; only she’s marginally closer now; marginally.
Another five years later:
She’s pretty close now; only two people between him and her in the picture.
Five years later:
It’s his wedding picture; she’s there.
Only, she isn’t the wife.
….
You want to know her name eh?
I don’t really remember.
….
I think it was Eleanor Rigby.
What do you want?
….
(Store in A)
Why do you want it?
….
(Store in B)
What are the consequences?
…
(Store in C)
Is B>C
Then A.
Else
Screw this whole exercise. You’re wasting your time with A.
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
We are all afraid aren’t we? Afraid of society; afraid of rejection.
Who among you has the courage to bare your heart? To go up to the person you love and say so? I do. I did too; and it locked me in a happy, self-imposed prison.(Author’s note: Not really. But its funny and at times convenient to say that it did. In reality- it sets you free; really) Now, you try.
But…no. There’s convention; there’s ego (there’s always ego);; there’s fear, there’s insecurity.
I’ve advice my friend- take all that and stuff it where the sun don’t shine.
Life’s way too short to sit around waiting for something. Take a shot. Yes, you may fail; yes you may bleed for a while; but you’ll recover. It’s not about how many times you get hit and fall but how many times you get back up. I think Rocky said that.
If you want something- go out and get it. If you want someone- go out and get them. Show me the girl who goes after what she wants and I will show you my kind of woman. Do not live in the hell of a friendship-in-the-hope-that-someday….
Someday won’t come.
Take my word for it.
Someday won’t come.
But what if I’m not good enough?
Never let anyone convince you that you are not good enough for the person you love. I saw that in a rather silly movie once.
What if she says no? Well good then, yeah? Least you’ve got that out of the way. Tell me, do you particularly enjoy doing drugs? ‘Cos that’s what you’re doing now. You’re living in a happy haze; because you are too afraid to live, to love. Here’s what’s going to happen to you:
She’d always been there for him. In all his pictures, you could see her. Standing in the corner; standing along with his friends; smiling her slightly-sad, fake little smile.
Five years later:
She’s still there in all the pictures; only she’s marginally closer now; marginally.
Another five years later:
She’s pretty close now; only two people between him and her in the picture.
Five years later:
It’s his wedding picture; she’s there.
Only, she isn’t the wife.
….
You want to know her name eh?
I don’t really remember.
….
I think it was Eleanor Rigby.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Protected
I loved what he did, although I never told him that.
We'd been out for a year when it happened. It was a normal enough monday- just like any other day. I reached college around eight. As i made my way to the room, I could already see him there in my mind. He was always there at 7:50 in the morning;always. He'd be at his table, texting on his phone or looking at something on his laptop.
And sure enough, there he was.
Hey beautiful.
Hey you.
He was looking at something on his laptop. He didn't look up as I entered..
Lots of work?
His brow crinkled.
Isn't there always.
It wasn't phrased as a question.
The day went on pretty much as usual. That is, until break.
To be perfectly fair- I think he started it. He'd been having a bad day since morning and it looked to be getting a lot worse.
The argument started as most arguments seem to start between men - over who had the bigger penis. He wanted X to do some work for him, and X had refused; citing (in his opinion) a rather silly excuse. The usual verbal sparring began from there.Various expletives were used and various insults were thrown. Parentages were questioned.
"All so that you can spend your blasted time canoodling with that annoying and flat-out ugly whore of yours!".
Everything went still. I turned cold. X had forgotten that I was in the room as well.
What did you say.
You heard well enough.
The world stopped for a microsecond; poised on the edge of a cliff.
He fell on X. And when I say fell, I mean in the most basest, and primal sort of way. He wasn't a big boy; in truth X was a lot bigger. But I don't think X had fully appreciated the ferocity of the attack that his words would bring down.
He rained blow after ablow on the poor fellow, By the time X had mustered enough of his senses to mount any sort of defence, he was already on the floor with a bleeding lip, a black eye...
and a broken arm.
It took three of the others to pull him off X.
But by then the damage was done.
And that was that.
......
Of course, he spent several days in detention. I daresay how he wangled his way out of that would make for an interesting story. (He usually does, you know. Wangle his way out, I mean).
And of course there was a huge hoo-haa about it all.
Did i like him the more for it?
I still can't quite make up my mind.
Yes, every woman wants to feel protected, but there was a ferocity there that was almost scary.....
and there was the broken arm.
We'd been out for a year when it happened. It was a normal enough monday- just like any other day. I reached college around eight. As i made my way to the room, I could already see him there in my mind. He was always there at 7:50 in the morning;always. He'd be at his table, texting on his phone or looking at something on his laptop.
And sure enough, there he was.
Hey beautiful.
Hey you.
He was looking at something on his laptop. He didn't look up as I entered..
Lots of work?
His brow crinkled.
Isn't there always.
It wasn't phrased as a question.
The day went on pretty much as usual. That is, until break.
To be perfectly fair- I think he started it. He'd been having a bad day since morning and it looked to be getting a lot worse.
The argument started as most arguments seem to start between men - over who had the bigger penis. He wanted X to do some work for him, and X had refused; citing (in his opinion) a rather silly excuse. The usual verbal sparring began from there.Various expletives were used and various insults were thrown. Parentages were questioned.
"All so that you can spend your blasted time canoodling with that annoying and flat-out ugly whore of yours!".
Everything went still. I turned cold. X had forgotten that I was in the room as well.
What did you say.
You heard well enough.
The world stopped for a microsecond; poised on the edge of a cliff.
He fell on X. And when I say fell, I mean in the most basest, and primal sort of way. He wasn't a big boy; in truth X was a lot bigger. But I don't think X had fully appreciated the ferocity of the attack that his words would bring down.
He rained blow after ablow on the poor fellow, By the time X had mustered enough of his senses to mount any sort of defence, he was already on the floor with a bleeding lip, a black eye...
and a broken arm.
It took three of the others to pull him off X.
But by then the damage was done.
And that was that.
......
Of course, he spent several days in detention. I daresay how he wangled his way out of that would make for an interesting story. (He usually does, you know. Wangle his way out, I mean).
And of course there was a huge hoo-haa about it all.
Did i like him the more for it?
I still can't quite make up my mind.
Yes, every woman wants to feel protected, but there was a ferocity there that was almost scary.....
and there was the broken arm.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Kids these days
There are very few people in the world that I'm actually fond of. Most people I tolerate; and most other people don't register on my radar.
Now, my ten- year old cousin is one on the list of people I'm fond of. And it so happened that i called her yesterday- it being her birthday.
Here's a rough excerpt of our conversation:
Hey Nina.
Hey.
Happy Birthday.
Thank you.
So...um...what did you do today?
Nothing much.
Nothing Much? Didn't you cut a cake?
Yeah. i did.
And...? Tell me about it! (People who know me must be staring in wonder right about now. I rarely ask questions. i missed the "Socials" class while growing up).
It was a chocolate cake.
That's the only kind worth having isn't it? So .... what shape was it? Barbie Shaped? Robot Shaped?
Nope.
It was square-shaped.
Hey- why didn't you have a cake in a shape? i love cakes in shapes!
Pause.
i'm ten years old.
Right.
Um. Ok
Kids these days.
Oh and by the way, I grew out of barbies a long while ago.
Right.
Now, my ten- year old cousin is one on the list of people I'm fond of. And it so happened that i called her yesterday- it being her birthday.
Here's a rough excerpt of our conversation:
Hey Nina.
Hey.
Happy Birthday.
Thank you.
So...um...what did you do today?
Nothing much.
Nothing Much? Didn't you cut a cake?
Yeah. i did.
And...? Tell me about it! (People who know me must be staring in wonder right about now. I rarely ask questions. i missed the "Socials" class while growing up).
It was a chocolate cake.
That's the only kind worth having isn't it? So .... what shape was it? Barbie Shaped? Robot Shaped?
Nope.
It was square-shaped.
Hey- why didn't you have a cake in a shape? i love cakes in shapes!
Pause.
i'm ten years old.
Right.
Um. Ok
Kids these days.
Oh and by the way, I grew out of barbies a long while ago.
Right.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Shakin Hands
I was already a few drinks down when I saw her. She looked least thirty; I learnt later that she was twenty four
.
Beautiful she was, in that dangerous sort of way that a black widow is beautiful. A perfect body, a child-like face, pouty lips and straight black hair- a fallen, dark angel I’d see her in Church on Sundays..
Anise, her name. At least that's how everyone knew her. Everyone knew Anise.
She'd appeared in town a year back, and had forced herself into the hearts and minds of the townsmen. In some cases, she'd forced her way in further.
Amanda Stewart, born 25th December 1984 was the only child of Bob and Martha Stewart. She studied at Lakefield High, from where she was sent out over rumoured sexual affairs with several of the members of the school's staff. Public humiliation followed. Her parents engaged a private tutor, Jonathan Wendel (See The Lakefield Backroom Scandal). When the tutorship ended Amanda left home and her parents heard no more of her.
She had her eyes on the prize as the girl next door
You grow up quick when you grow up poor
It's the only way to LA that she knows
The Hollywood pose: teeth, tits, and drawers
It didn't take her long to leave the boulevard
So many Five Star friends with black credit cards
She'd try anything once
Cause anything goes
It never comes easy when you're digging for gold
She caught me looking at her, pushed off the anonymous A-lister pawing at her clothes, and walked over.
Hey handsome.
Hello....Anise, isn't it?
She didn't bother answering. She took the cigarette from my hand.
Smoking ain't good for you honey. She inhaled deeply.
She took the double I held next.
What's your story cupcake?
Me? I'm a reporter. I write for the Herald.
You've a name cupcake?
Mike. My name's Mike.
Mike.
Mike Shandle?
I nodded.
I like your work. I've been following it.
Thank you. I was surprised. My pieces in the Herald were mostly excerpts from the papers I delivered at the University.
I've always wanted to know you...a bit better.
The music was really loud now, and the alcohol was starting to get to my brain.
She had her hand on my leg.
I'm married, I muttered; rather feebly.
Giggle.
I know.
She took hold of my hand and led me into the darkness.
Well she ain't no Cinderella
When she's getting undressed
'Cause she rocks it like the naughty wicked witch of the west
Far too pretty to be giving it cheap
That's why she's making six figures working three days a week
Yeah she'd even break a promise in the promise-land
She didn't make it this far by just shaking hands
She’d take your money make it twice as hot as anyone can
She didn't make it this far by just shaking hands
You're quite fascinating , I told her later. A fascinating story.
Uh huh? You know my story honey ?Think you know me? She asked me, rolling up a smoke.
I told her what I knew.
You don't know squat munchkin.
I doubt she’d even let the devil buy her little black book
City Hall would probably fall off if anyone got a look
Every a-list player is a favorite friend
Since they all taste the same in the back of the benz.
Congressman Phillman?! You must be kidding me.
She showed me the red checked skirt.
A congressman would call her every once in a while
Got the school girl skirt on the top of the pile
She’d done everyone once
And everyone knows
You got to get a little dirty when you’re digging for gold
Do you regret any of it?
Nope.
I’ve my ways and I want what the next man wants.
Who are you to judge, cupcake?
…….
Well someone spilled the beans and now her name’s in the press
Tough to keep it all a secret when you’re one of the best
I didn't break the story. I was fond of Anise by then. We spoke rarely but I remember each time vividly. She'd call when she had a problem with something I'd written.
The case came up up on the 17th. I walked into the court room with more than my fair share of trepidation.
….
But, of course..
The judge is going easy because he paid for her chest
Yeah he loves his naughty wicked witch of the west
So do we all Judge Spalling. So do we all.
.....
She shook my hand; I remember that clearly.
.
Beautiful she was, in that dangerous sort of way that a black widow is beautiful. A perfect body, a child-like face, pouty lips and straight black hair- a fallen, dark angel I’d see her in Church on Sundays..
Anise, her name. At least that's how everyone knew her. Everyone knew Anise.
She'd appeared in town a year back, and had forced herself into the hearts and minds of the townsmen. In some cases, she'd forced her way in further.
Amanda Stewart, born 25th December 1984 was the only child of Bob and Martha Stewart. She studied at Lakefield High, from where she was sent out over rumoured sexual affairs with several of the members of the school's staff. Public humiliation followed. Her parents engaged a private tutor, Jonathan Wendel (See The Lakefield Backroom Scandal). When the tutorship ended Amanda left home and her parents heard no more of her.
She had her eyes on the prize as the girl next door
You grow up quick when you grow up poor
It's the only way to LA that she knows
The Hollywood pose: teeth, tits, and drawers
It didn't take her long to leave the boulevard
So many Five Star friends with black credit cards
She'd try anything once
Cause anything goes
It never comes easy when you're digging for gold
She caught me looking at her, pushed off the anonymous A-lister pawing at her clothes, and walked over.
Hey handsome.
Hello....Anise, isn't it?
She didn't bother answering. She took the cigarette from my hand.
Smoking ain't good for you honey. She inhaled deeply.
She took the double I held next.
What's your story cupcake?
Me? I'm a reporter. I write for the Herald.
You've a name cupcake?
Mike. My name's Mike.
Mike.
Mike Shandle?
I nodded.
I like your work. I've been following it.
Thank you. I was surprised. My pieces in the Herald were mostly excerpts from the papers I delivered at the University.
I've always wanted to know you...a bit better.
The music was really loud now, and the alcohol was starting to get to my brain.
She had her hand on my leg.
I'm married, I muttered; rather feebly.
Giggle.
I know.
She took hold of my hand and led me into the darkness.
Well she ain't no Cinderella
When she's getting undressed
'Cause she rocks it like the naughty wicked witch of the west
Far too pretty to be giving it cheap
That's why she's making six figures working three days a week
Yeah she'd even break a promise in the promise-land
She didn't make it this far by just shaking hands
She’d take your money make it twice as hot as anyone can
She didn't make it this far by just shaking hands
You're quite fascinating , I told her later. A fascinating story.
Uh huh? You know my story honey ?Think you know me? She asked me, rolling up a smoke.
I told her what I knew.
You don't know squat munchkin.
I doubt she’d even let the devil buy her little black book
City Hall would probably fall off if anyone got a look
Every a-list player is a favorite friend
Since they all taste the same in the back of the benz.
Congressman Phillman?! You must be kidding me.
She showed me the red checked skirt.
A congressman would call her every once in a while
Got the school girl skirt on the top of the pile
She’d done everyone once
And everyone knows
You got to get a little dirty when you’re digging for gold
Do you regret any of it?
Nope.
I’ve my ways and I want what the next man wants.
Who are you to judge, cupcake?
…….
Well someone spilled the beans and now her name’s in the press
Tough to keep it all a secret when you’re one of the best
I didn't break the story. I was fond of Anise by then. We spoke rarely but I remember each time vividly. She'd call when she had a problem with something I'd written.
The case came up up on the 17th. I walked into the court room with more than my fair share of trepidation.
….
But, of course..
The judge is going easy because he paid for her chest
Yeah he loves his naughty wicked witch of the west
So do we all Judge Spalling. So do we all.
.....
She shook my hand; I remember that clearly.
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