Lit Clutterbug

How's it shakin'!  I know it's been a while since I last rambled coherently, so if you've taken the time out to pay attention to this post, I'm flattered. In fact, borrowing from the words of someone I knew a while ago, I think someone ought to present you with an award the size of a pancake for that feat alone. As always, I aim to please.

In the absence of any recent favorable developments in my life, I've been spending a considerable amount of time reading the works of some of the most formidable human beings (in my own unostentatious opinion) to have ever put their thoughts on paper. So you needn't spend your energies disputing, for example, Mr.Adams' views on the subject of misogyny prevalent amongst the peoples in the vicinity of Betelgeuse. You can have a bite out of my towel for all I care. 

Since I've already mentioned Mr.Adams, I must begin by admitting that I've been kicking myself for not getting around to reading the Hitchhiker's Guide any earlier. Helped me get through quite a bleak period, it did. Got through the 'trilogy of five books' in under a week and kept re-reading for a while after. I never imagined that time-travel, inter-galactic colonization, extraterrestrials, manic-depressive robots and, yes, towels could be so riotous. I hear Douglas Adams was the first Mac user in the whole of England. Totally irrelevant trivia. Or not. Maybe its a genius thing.

I'd also returned to the land of Stephen King with a vengeance. His knack for storytelling, his 'craft' as he calls it, is a gift. A modern day Tolkien who drinks deep of that fabled literary pool where those great men and women of yore cast their nets. Lisey's Story was admittedly rather insipid at several turns, but SK's allowed to not-impress once in a while.
Currently getting through some vintage King. The Dead Zone is a classic psychic-psycho story that goes all over the place before going totally berserk on the unwary reader. 

The Enchantress of Florence kept me up several nights on a recent visit to Trivandrum. I definitely think Padma Lakshmi's departure from his life did the man a world of good. His first post-Padma Lakshmi novel, The Enchantress is a throughly researched effort that seamlessly blends fact, fiction and fantasy to constitute a single volume of unadulterated Rushdie with generous doses of his signature brand of wit and wisdom. They say that if you call something flawless, it means you haven't looked hard enough. And believe me, I've looked. So here goes, at the risk of coming off as a pretentious little Rushdie-fanboy, this one was perfect as cats. 

I've described the last couple of weeks of my life in books fairly accurately. Props to you, for sitting through this. Currently listening to Savoy Truffle -The Beatles as I write this from an uncharacteristically cluttered desk. 

a little hello

I've moved into a new comfort zone. A typical day in my life consists of waking up in my skin and taking it off, bit by bit, as the day progresses. It's getting pretty toasty here these days y'know. I put them fully back on before scurrying homeward and into my safe little box in the evening though.

Is this what they call 'traveling without moving'?

Whatever it is, I think I'm fine for the moment.

Examples to support preceding statement :

1. I'm watching an amazing story play itself out around me. (More on this later)

2. Lamb of God @ Palace Grounds, May 15th! (Opeth. Check. Porcupine Tree. Check. LoG. ...)

3. I'm enjoying church.

4. No more of this insane college. Just exams and then jump.

5. Deadmau5 and Heinlein make sure I'm in decent company.

6. Booster Juice is now in my neighborhood. I'm stoked! Now somebody get Chipotle to open one up here please.

7. Ah, and new musical possibilities.

amr3

I find myself looking inward a lot these days. I used to live a cushy life shielded from serious injury and I may have been described at the time as a manipulative young man with a penchant for having a good time. I'd twist, bend and break all sorts of things around me to have it all my way. Not so, now. My situation can be compared to when you find out that a price has to be paid for the delightful objects your credit card has been spewing at you.

Responsibility, foresight and maturity have taken some beautiful relationships away from me.

Leave me alone, he says.

Now I bask in the realization of the fact that I live alone in dimly lit room. A little box tucked away in a far corner of Eden. Not a soul within earshot.

Told you I'd been getting introspective lately.

Blustering Baboonery

Don't think coz I understand I care

Don't think coz I'm talking we're friends...

I like Sneaker Pimps. They sound like they're cool with having no excuse for having no excuse.

Er... I'm not exactly sure that last sentence made sense, but you get the idea. Had a generally good last few days. Good days are had to come by, I should know. I'm grateful for the people who put me in a cushy place by choosing to hang with me (what a drag it must be for them poor folks).

I hope you're a beach sort of person, we'd probably get along. And I don't mean bikinis, broad shoulders and cocktails on a five-star private beach when I say beach sort of person. Oh, and definitely NOT the type that pretends to read Theroux lying on your belly in the sun. I had something along the lines of taking pleasure in watching dead turtles wash up on the shore or chucking rogue crabs back into the ocean in mind.

Now I'm also against carpet bombing in air warfare.

I watched a half-moon hover upon jagged snow covered peaks of the Himalayas. Standing before a mountain on a cold night with a bagful of eclectic mix of memories and reasons for why I was there is quite an experience. Some ubiquitous ancient wisdom resides among the mountains without a doubt. And sometimes, if you peer hard enough into yourself, it hits you hard for just a fleeting moment. This can either cause one to reel and fall hard or help to finally find one's feet.

I can't place my finger on which category I fall in.

Or maybe that's just it. I fell.