Archive for March, 2008

Movement

Day 10,059 – Sunday – 10 Chaitra 1930 – 21 Rabi ul Awwal 1429 – 30 March 2008

So, I went to see two apartments. Fucking sucked. Dirty, dingy, stuffy, smelly hovels! So, I have given my estate agent (definitely non cute, 3 on a scale of 0 to 100) a list of what we want, me, and my friend. And, again, so how seriously fucking difficult is to tell someone directions to a place. What the fuck does turn right from Teen Talwar mean? There are four roads going up to Teel Talwar. I can take a right on any one of them. Oh, oh, yes, right, the road called Road X? Right. It is a two way fucking road, I can take a right and go to two opposing roads. Moron! Oh, ok, the road going from A to B take a right. Thank you. Brainless twit! After this conversation the estate agent was downgraded to a 2.

I saw a movie Cloverfield. Amazing. Good. This is exactly what I needed. A large number of additions to the list of psychological disorders that I already have. It is bad enough that I can not sleep in the dark because I am afraid of God knows what. It is bad enough that I have over a period of time become so psychotic that in any possible reality I can see at least five to ten different alternate realities, which have by now become very regular and at times seem more real than the reality around me. And then, I, Mr Moron, go ahead and watch Cloverfield. I have avoided all movies classfied as Horror for the past two to three years, and then I do this. How much is my IQ again? Equivalent to that of a rather stupid chicken?

Oh and yes, I have another amazing idea on how I want to lead my life. I want to buy a horse, sit on it, and ride away. And keep riding for the rest of my life. And write, while I am not riding. I want to travel the world on horseback like everyone’s ancestors. Yeah, right, as if the idea of spending the rest of my life in a Zepplein/Blimp was not preposterous enough. And yes, as any normal / sane person might have guessed. There are two other idea. In one, I have a Caravan. And in the other a large boat.

Dont, look at me, talk to Jalal. He is the crazy one.

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Sleep

Day 10,058 – Saturday – 09 Chaitra 1930 – 20 Rabi ul Awwal 1429 – 29 March 2008

Oh God! It has been ages since I blogged because of the fucked up internet not connecting because of the fucked up power breakdowns.

And I am have been so seriously fucking busy at work that even though I wanted to I could nto write a word.

And in addition to all this, I am so fucking sleepy right now that I can not blog more.

Afterthoughts

Day 10,045 – Sunday – 26 Phalgun 1929 – 07 Rabi ul Awwal 1429 – 16 March 2008

So, ten days, no blogging. Been depressed for a couple of months now. Never really thought about how I wanted my life, just went about over working myself and running away from the dreaded questions that solitude would lead me to. And then I stopped, somewhere in October or September last year. And have been in a continuous state of depression since.

But, this week, I did something useful. I have been wanting to move out since October 2003. I actually checked my blog to get the date right. And then I told my mom that I have been asking her for this for the past four years and four months. And, then I told her that after not being given what I want for four years I am spent and will not listen to whatever they say. Of course, not having slept or eaten for the past three days gave a certain pallour to my skin and my mother, worried beyond her wits, agreed that I should be allowed to move out if I wanted it that badly.

So easy, but, where the fuck am I going to get back October 2003 to February 2008. However, this teaches me never to fuck with anyone elses life, because life is too precious. And it is murder if you kill someone with a gun or if you kill them with pain, or lack of attention, or lack of freedom, or whatever the way it is. Every human is different. And every human must be given the right to decide how they live. Otherwise, people just start to die inside. Not good. Not good at all.

Khair, all said and done. I am going to start looking for a place now.

But, the fact that if all I had to do was progressively loose weight, sleep and become an absolute zombified anti social creature reserved to my room for days on end and only then my parents would agree to listen to what I have been saying for all this time. I should have been more ruthless with them. I should not have listened to them. I should not have given them the benefit of any doubts. It feels like such a waste.

Khair, the depression is over. But, I feel hollow and incomplete. Something like floating over water. Something like being light and airy and bobbing up and down. I can not feel my feet firmly planted on the ground. I can not understand some things that I could. I am living in a surreal environment. And now that I actually have what I wanted, I dont feel that it is that important any more. What was more important was that I should have gotten in earlier on.

As I sit here writing this. I have no idea what I want next in life. Just this one thing has been so long and so painful, I dont know if I want anything else.

Explanations

Day 10,035 – Thursday – 27 Safar 1429 – 16 Phalgun 1929 – 06 March 2008

I am gay. I have told me father, mother and sisters about it. They find it disgusting, wrong and morally corrupt. They are not ready to accept that I am gay, after some time they have accepted that I have been corrupted by someone, they are not ready to accept it and I can not do anything about it. I am ok with being gay, and I do not put any restrictions on the lives of the rest of my family, live and let live. But the same principle is not applied to me.

I want to be gay. I want to live a life of my choosing. That is not possible if I live with my parents like all other normal Pakistani guys. Again, I do not put any restrictions on anyone else, but my life is made hell.

I want to live separately. I told my parents about this and I also told them that I am very different from them and the things that I want are very different from everyone else. One must make allowances for people who are different. And I shoul. d be allowed to live separately, that in my eyes was the only way for me to lead a life of my choosing. Family had issues, could not be done.

I am selfish. I was told that I am extremely selfish for wanting to do this even when I know it will hurt my family. I dont want to do it because it will hurt them. I am not going to do it. But, living a life that I dont want to live, I am never going to be happy.

I am obsessed with one thing. Why do you want to give up everyone because of one thing (read, sex with men). The answer is that, I dont want to. Just that you guys will not allow me to. So, I can as a human want two things. But obviously I am not going to get either one of the two.

I hate my family. I am heartless and do not love anyone and that is why I want to live alone. Also, I am selfish and do not care for others and I am not ready to sacrifice for the family as I should. Why doesnt the family just sacrifice two things for me, let me live separately and let me lead a life of my choosing. Where the fuck is that sacrifice?

If I feel that my past three years have been wated because I was not allowed to live alone it doesnt mean that there is anything wrong with anything. Acutally, there is, this means that I have failed as a person. Everyone 3-4 years I will feel sorry for not having done things differently in the past. This one experience proved that this is how I will be. Noone wants to live in a state of consistent defeat, forced conditions and mulling over loss.

I should not have been allowed to live separately because I would have gotten into bad habits and also because I was completely unable to take care of myself. First, not your decision, it was my decision. Second, everyone learns, so would I have. Thank you for wasting my time and my life. I dont hate you. But, for not letting me live, I am sure you hated me.

What the fuck to do with my depression. I dont know. I dont care. I dont give a fuck.

The scariest part is that, after I have been screaming out that I need to be allowed to live my life, and been rejected over and over again, my will to live has died out, and as of this moment, I have no interest in being alive, the only thing keeping me alive is my inability to articulate the above sentence properly enough to explain to myself why me life means something to either me or someone else.

I have realize that if over a period of time, someone is stifled, be they right or wrong, or whatever the fuck, they will slowly die from inside. And I think, that stage has hit me. I have died from inside. Nothing holds meaning for my any more. And I dont care about anything.

Even if you think that someone else is wrong, but if they decide for something in their life, please for God’s sake, for the sake of all that is good in this world, please let them live the way they choose, and please dont kill them. Stopping someone from choosing their life is akin to murder.

Slipping

Day 10,033 – Tuesday – 25 Safar 1429 – 14 Phalgun 1929 – 04 March 2008 

Life sucks. Hate life. Want to move out to my own place. But, I talked to my parents about moving out again. And my mom said that she will not let me live like that since she still thinks I am a baby and can not care for myself. And my father gave me psycho babble about how everyone will say that my mother and sisters have been abandoned to live alone. But he said, that if I still wanted it, I can move out. But then he told me that it will destroy the family and he will have to leave his job.

So basically, they both said no. So, I force myself, discipline myself, organize myself and push myself each living moment to feel life and enjoy life and live life. But, I can not live my fucking life if there are people standing there to ensure that anything that I might want in life is denied to me because according to them it is not the right way for me to live.

Fuck this.

I have never been this depressive in my whole life. I force myself to keep away from the depression. But it just doesnt go away. I dont know whether I would want the rest of my life to end up being depressive half the time and fighting it the other half.

Mondays

Day 10,032 – Monday – 24 Safar 1429 – 13 Phalgun 1929 – 03 March 2008

So, after work, my friends decide to drop me off. I agree. I am stupid. After a while I learn that they want to go to this summer clothing exhibition. Mausummery. At Marriott. I am stupid. I decided to enjoy it. I am stupid. So, we went there. The hotel had too many women roaming about. I should have gotten an idea. I am stupid.

When I entered the exhibition I was shocked to the very core of my being. Women, after seeing another thousand women and two hundred varieties of clothing go completely insane. Completely insane. They have no idea where they are. They have no idea what to do. They just move, as if my the powers of God, towards whatever piece of clothing they like. They do. I saw it today. And I will not be dissuaded by anyone telling me the contrary.

Those women were nuts. I got pushed by them. Some of them pushed me as they hurtled headlong into throngs of women gathered in front of the clothing items that they wanted. I felt like I was forced into a world of excessively large billiard balls and clothing. Those women would push and shove and shout and laugh and scream with glee. It was the scariest experience I have ever had with women. And this includes living with my mother and sisters. It was scary beyond all calculations. It was scary. I have been scarred for life.

But, one good thing came out of it, I think I have a much deeper understanding of women now, through this one experience, than I had throughout the period of my engagement. I saw the blank stared of the women moving towards clothing items. I saw it. And I was very very scared. Now, I know. I know you all for what you are. I know!

After this harrowing experience into the inner workings of the female brain me and a friend went out for coffee. And there, I saw two things, the sexiest man for the last quarter. That is three months. And the sexiest gadget for the last year. That is twelve months. The new Mac, the wafer thin light as fucking hell one.

I just could not decide on, given a choice, which one to have sex with, and which one to marry. I was just so seriously confused. But, in the end, the guy won. I did not do anything, but I think he was so cute, I can oil him up and massage him for anywhere between ten minutes and ten hours. Oh God. This excessive obsession with sex is definitely not good. Is it?

Reality

Day 10,031 – Sunday – 23 Safar 1429 – 12 Phalgun 1929 – 02 March 2008

Being quite insane and prone to different tastes of psychosis does make life difficult for me at times. Over thinking, over analysing, over objectifying, over doing things is a basic part of my nature. And top the chocolate cake with an overly large cherry, I also think about how I overdo all of the above. I fear psychosis and insanity as much as I overthink it. And fear that as well. Being someone who over indulges in all of the above does make me different, and wierd, and scary and maybe even quite insane. But, in the end, my love of insanity and the importance that I place on it are added cherries on the already cherry speckled chocolate cake that I was talking about earlier.

When I was in college I got ample opportunities to use drugs. I did not take them. I always knew that if for any given reason through any given means, I am shown a world of an alternate reality, I will end up using it more than it should be used. And, with time, the lines between the reality and the make belief will fade. Yes, I am indeed this insane. And, so is the rest of the post going to be. And, once the lines fade, I will never be able to jar myself back to what I can call beloved reality. I can not play with this. For me it is fire.

During the course of college I learnt about Lucid dreaming. I even conducted a few experiments. But, after my first, albeit very brief and weak, lucid moment, I realized that I am going down the wrong path. Same thing, if I start doing it, I know I will overdo it. I know I will want lucid dreaming all the time. And I know I will get so engrossed in it that I will create an alternate reality. But, and but, and but, if these two realities collapse into one confused mess. How will I ever know which is the real one? How? And, if that does happen, how will I operate in the real world. Oh, and yes, that is another story all together.

I already have too many questions regarding the real world. Now, caution is advised for the sane, slightly insane, and complete insane. You must read the following only if you will not go insane reading it. I will not have it on my conscience.

I have the following issues with reality as we speak. There is an idea that comes into my mind, and I cannot shake it away, and at times I think it might be true.

I am 70 years old, and I am in a coma, and I am in a hospital, and none of this is real. And that my lucidity, my life, my experiences are all just a dream that I get as part of my coma. So, my realm of reality is a comatose dream, and I have learnt to think of it as reality.

I am 45 years old, and I think I am 27 and what I write about in this blog. But I am not. I am someone else, somewhere else. Suffering from severe multiple personality syndrome. And I do not know who that guy is.

I am who I am, but, noone else is who they are, I am living in a world like that of that wierd Jim Carrie movie where the guy is living in an unreal world made for him. Trust me, this is not just me saying it, at times I feel that it is true.

So, I hope you all liked it, I made myself vulnerable, and weak infront of all of you, so if I am indeed 45 or in that wierd Jim Carrie movie, just fucking act along and dont come over and ask me how I know all this. I expect a bit of sanity from the rest of the human race. Thank you. My absolute lack of knowing what reality and lucidity are and my dabbling with the morbid and the insane regarding this should be restricted to.

And, or, I might just be someone elses dream.

I have just realized as I write this, that I will indeed become insane with time. And I would love to continue writing after I do become insane. It should be fun.

Again, please, dear all humans, I am after all this expecting sanity from the rest of you. Because, like I said earlier on, I am a self centered guy, and I might end up asking things from you that I myself am not able to agree to.

With that, I promise from the depth of my possibly fictional heart that I will try to bring more sanity to my post for tomorrow.