Valentine’s Day Post

May 22, 2009

It was more of a valentine’s week.

Love seemed to be in the air, and people were literally dancing around half naked. It was a cross-blend between a Big Match and a mass orgy.

While coming back from work, I see a bunch of sexually-frustrated males waving Sri Lankan flags and shouting inappropriate things to women walking along the street. I see traffic policemen ignore some of the drunk patriot drivers simply because there’s too much of them on the streets. I see gangsters giving pep-talks and creating heroes out of zeros. I see completely rational people listening to them, and wanting to believe that now everything will be alright.

A valentine’s week. It’s was exactly that. A Celebration of Love. But not Love.

A Celebration of Peace. But not Peace.

The problem with our mind, is that it’s stuck in a narrow reference frame.

It’s being tricked to believe that our lives can only be represented in the Time Domain, which is sad because we’d be infinitely more interesting on other domains. What’s even more fucked up about the human existence is that it can only work as a linear and irreversible function which has to be continuous and differentiable.

There is a way to fix it however. To be mathematically correct – there is a way to transform it.

One must die before death, and realize that there is no death and that you are merely a construct of what’s around you. Also one must realize that what’s around you, is merely a construct of a collective belief system. A belief system that’s not ready to let go and definitely not ready to surrender  to Jacob.

If you’ve read this far, and understood at least half of what I said, Congratulations! Welcome to the Other Side.

If not, don’t worry, I’ll find you in another life.

Blonde or Freckles?

May 15, 2009

lost

Is not the Question. The real question is whether James wanted to be La flour or Sawyer.

What most women don’t understand is; men don’t love women for who they are, we love women for what they inspire in us.

That is the question.

I probably don’t have the money to pump petrol everyweek, but I do it anyway.

The feeling of driving, the sense of having control, is one of the few things in life that makes me optimistic. Loosing myself in the moment and clearing my mind off everything else, it brings me to a state of neutrality. It’s as if I am really in charge of my destiny, and no one else has anything to say about it.

I’ve made it a habit not to honk, even to the most reckless drivers. The world will be as it is. The only effort that I’m going to invest is into changing myself.

That’s part of why I don’t like bieng driven. Be it public transport, tuk-tuk or taxi, I hate the feeling of bieng dependent on another person. The way my mind wanders off somewhere into the future or entangles itself in a web of the past, while some stranger takes charge of my fate – is just plain wrong and feels like an insult to my existence.

All the AdaDerana SMS alerts seem to be either cricket match scores or War scores.

To the Sri Lankan majority, I guess it’s the same thing.

I for one am disconnecting.

Deja Vu

May 10, 2009

Is there any difference between something you don’t know and something you don’t remember?

Been studying the derivation of Fermi-Dirac stats alongside a little m-theory just to get to my mind off the fact that I haven’t gotten laid for the last three weeks. And every time I  grasp some part of the math, there’s an undeniable tingle in my temporal lobe suggesting that I’ve been here & done this before.

It’s not a feeling of knowing, it’s a feeling of remembering.

For the record, I think I’m already crazy, so the notion of being crazy all over again is not a viable hypothesis.

However I do think I need to get laid. Soon.

The world is getting ready once again to celebrate your birth, enlightenment and passing away.

After 2500 years, the words you uttered have become a religion. Humans divided by race and culture claim it to be theirs, and have built identities around it. Fairy tales have been written, bloody wars have been fought, civilizations have been seduced and conquered, men have turned into demons, and worst of all- you are being worshiped as a God. Even the tree you sat beside is being treated like a sub-divinity.

Did you know this would happen? Did you have a choice? Perhaps more importantly, do I have a choice?

One more thing, after achieving Enlightenment, why didn’t you go back to Yashodara and Rahula? It’s paradoxical you see, if you really attained enlightenment, how come you had a sense of purpose and a ego to call yourself a Buddha?

You said that the only constant in the world is change. If so, how did you conquer your desires? How did you cultivate a mind which is not subjected to change?

Tell me are you for real? Is enlightment for real?

You’re a great poet, and an old-soul, I’ll give you that. But the decisions you’ve made, and the life you lived are clear signs that we mortals can never live in reality and attain enlightment at the same time.

Yours without faith,

Me

The Girl with Specs

May 1, 2009

So I drive along the pitakotte junction minding my own business and there’s this huge traffic jam. We’re all perfectly still; me the other cars, and the big private bus which has blocked the road.

The universe has its own way of amusement, and so a young woman brimming with youth and overflowing with sexual confidence walks across the suspended street. She’s wearing a simple white top, a blue denim, and one of those neardy glasses so characteristic with the naughtyamerica videos that feature my-first-sex-teacher, that I feel the tension in several parts of my body.

Her poise is backed with a rhythm that gets stronger with every pair of eyes that gets lost in those tightly held breasts. She smiles at me and holds a gaze which is a rare sight with Sri Lankan women.

She was aware of the three wide-eyed schoolboys on the footboard of the bus that were unable to stop staring at her. She looks at them and smiles. The boys obviously surprised and taken aback by the boldness of the woman, try to look away.

She looks at me, nods and dissapears in to the traffic.