I don't know what is happening.

There is only so much we can see. Things happen everywhere around us, all the time, all set in one perpetual motion whose motive is yet unknown to me. There is only so much we can hear. The sounds never die away. The lips always move, but we just can't hear what they are saying. There is only so much we can know.
We believe we've experienced something in life. But what is truth?
What of all those moments worth living for?
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Will they?

Loler!

Let it Roll!

I could say I have been loafing languidly in shady recesses lately. Perhaps could is inappropriate because I could have stated the same with half decent conviction. Well, when the times, challenged by inevitability, enter periods of dull gloom it has become common practice to spend time watching programmes on the television or the computer. Some such thing happened to this certain somebody last night.

I suppose television or the visual media, in some quarters of course, is unanimously thought to be a bad influence; books being better and the whole cultural upheaval thing, I know this is an ancient issue, but still. Unfortunately, the visual media has been embedded in the human way and we have to take it for what it is. I'm pretty sure some animals would nod in agreement too, one could think of domesticated animals occasionally being exposed to, probably disturbing (to the animal of course), gyrations of certain people. Obviously there are positive sides to this too, and by this I mean the television, and I shall explain why. I would also claim that there is no such thing as an unfortunate thing, but then I am reminded of a total and complete nutter who once said, "The Law of Discernible Pairs states that everything in the world, as we perceive it, occurs in pairs!"  I suppose most actual writers would concur with the following: what is written is a window to look back at the past, whether you like it or not. Now, I look back at what that nutter said and I think, that would disregard my aforementioned claim. Therefore, the fortunate has to coexist with the unfortunate, and this I find quite unfortunate!

More importantly, what I'm trying to say is that there have been questions flying around in my head. There comes a time in the life of every man when he starts to make certain generalizations about those ethereal people. These then become the seeds to a hundred new questions, mostly to do with the quests and conquests in life. Last night, I was watching a couple of episodes of this and one of that on television, and I would like to think that I could see a glimmer of direction that would lead me towards the answer. Hence, my claim that it is not as bad it is thought to be. I know I am not justifying anything here, indeed it is but a feeble imitation. The older readers would probably still feel, as would the new, that I am still unable to put together two coherent lines together. However, I am truly trying sanity now.  Sometimes, you need to see the dots to connect them and in the process you might miss a few. I have been called a blithe optimist, but don't you, my dear reader, think that there is sanity in optimism?

Well, this young boy I knew used to say, "Well constructed are the words of the wise!"
So I have been thinking, trying to find answers and this is the conclusion that I have arrived at:
"In all fairness, the world is probably fairer than we perceive it to be and probably not as fair as it was meant to be. " 

And then, I was watching this show and an amazing thing happened! In the background, there was Georgie boy, not the O Quinto Beatle, but the actual Beatle boy singing,
"Let it roll across the floor
Through the hall and out the door
To the fountain of perpetual mirth
Let it roll for all it's worth!"
And all the time roll sounded just like lol!

- Loler

21/05/2011 

in the eyes of someone ..

Hey beautiful, the case in question, very often, is the weather. The whole of yesterday was summarized by a grey, cloudy expanse. Totally contrasting was the bright sunshine and the sky that greeted me this morning. A bright blue sky, maybe a couple of shades off the striking blue on the plumage on a kingfisher, but still, illuminatingly beautiful. Unfortunately, circumstances force certain types of working people to spend a majority of their time in the confines of indoor recesses when they'd rather spend time in the yard playing with a couple of cats. Perhaps not, I'd prefer watching the clouds drift by. Indeed, there wasn't one in sight before noon. After fulfilling my share of time in the indoor confines, I set out for my haven. "Long may this routine last!", I sigh and say to myself fully knowing that it will not. Undeterred by this, of course, I was today. I looked up at the North-Western skies and there were wisps of clouds that looked like a human palm, fingers four in all and a thumb. I thought the outstretched hand was trying to tell me something. Or in the eyes of someone ...

Very soon, a bright yellow moon rose from the east, from behind the trees. The moon was in its full grandeur tonight, still is of course. Reminds me of Narsil, the sword of Elendil. The sword's name contains the elements nar and thil, "fire" and "white light", referring to the sun and moon. Ah, I remember the scene. 

"Anduril! Flame of the West. Reforged from the shards of Narsil!"
The sword that shines ...

is there a sparkle in the eyes of someone .. ??

Well, folks, isn't it amazing how a sequence of songs reads a well composed story. Here's one
I am Superman, Kryptonite, I'm No Superman, Here Comes the Sun and Hero.

Here's another one, it is incomplete though.
Strangers in the Night ................ Our House.

Wait up folks, I totally forgot to mention the fact I'm currently in a little bit of an inebriated state. I thought I'd jot down some stuff here before I drown completely in my inebriation. You, my dear friend, so not unlike me are wise if this makes utter nonsense to you. Rest your head, because everything is so easy.

- The Drunken Monkeh.

another half page of scribbled lines ..

Well, it is November already. This sweet melody is playing, like an old gramophone record from decades gone past my ephemeral existence of yonder. It has been a while since I've pieced a piece at this time of the day, perhaps a year or more. There isn't anything in particular that I'd like to write about. Maybe it's something to do with, say, pohucussing. They constantly flitter about, but let's just say that I have been thinking about islands and how you can't really be marooned on one.  It's like this, I suppose it might not strike you immediately, but it is like being wise, but, without wisdom. It's strange, this serenity that has descended upon me. I'm sure I will drift seamlessly into that realm now; where a stone dropped in the water creates ripples that echo through the walls of silence. Soon, little boy, that cloud you see will drift away.

- Local Hero