Archive for Life

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Day 10,174 – Wednesday – 01 Sravana 1930 – 19 Rajab 1429 – 23 July 2008

The title can be broken up as; bizarre is weird; defi is lack of; connect is connection to; outre is outer; earth is world. Hence weird lack of connection to the outer world.

Since this morning I am feeling an absolute disconnect between myself and the rest of the world. It can not be verbalized easily. I feel as if everything in the world outside me has changed. As if I am in a different dimension and something has changed. I feel the same about myself, but something or rather everything outside me has changed. I have had this very same feeling on two occasions before this. 

The first one and the most vivid and strong one was during my university. I woke up, went back to my university after a two week break. And I felt completely out of sync with whatever was going on there. Completely, as if I have changed completely and each one of my relationships with people and each one of my relationships with objects have changed completely. As if millennia have passed for me but not for anything else. Do I feel emotionally attached to anything else any longer? I now feel as if I didnt. I had to build all of my earlier relationships with people as well as objects again. 

Same thing happened to me about two years ago. Again, I sleep in my world, my dimension, but when I wake up, I am in another world. Exactly similar, yet completely changed. But this one was very mild, but noticeable since I had been through it once. If I hadnt been through it, I am sure I would have noticed this one as well, it was that strong.

And this is the third one. Milder still. Yet still noticeable. A weird and strange feeling. Do not know and can not explain.

Do other people have this feeling as well? Or not? God! Am I really going insane. I have to go watch some porn and see if at least some of my relationships maintain their importance and depth.

PS – Yes they do ;) I have been cured.

Antinonconfrontationalism

Day 10,171 – Sunday – 29 Asadha 1930 – 16 Rajab 1429 – 20 July 2008

I have just realized that I have taken new and rather large strides on the path to being weird, argumentative and open to all new things. This includes the frikking piece of octopus Sashimi I had today. One of the reasons that I do not like Japanese cuisine a lot is that I prefer to eat food that is cooked properly, or preferably does not, at the very least, move on my plate. Long story short I was offered the octopus Sashimi and I tried it just because it was something new and different. And I loved it. Thankfully.

As of right now, if anyone on the face of this planet sends me an email, sms or letter saying something to the tune of “You are wrong” or “No” or “No, you dont” or “Does not” then without knowing the person or the reason behind it I will send a reply of “I am not” or “Yes” or “Yes I do” or “Does too” immediately without a second of thought. This is how bad this is. And to top this off my thing with my cousin where he says “Yes” and I say “No” has hit another level. After one year of sms, emails, facebook scraps, IM messages and 5 second phone calls I continue it ad infinitum. What the fuck is wrong with me.

And a weird, interesting yet disturbing fact about me. While I was doing my daily walk/jog/run thing today my right nipple was erect and my shirt was rubbing against it, yes I liked it for some time, but then I think that it the rubbing went too far and now my nipple hurts like hell. Touching it is like burning it with a lighted cigarette. I feel as if I have divulged too much information.

Fuck.

And the guy that I was having phone sex with last night had an amazing voice. But, dude, the whole Urdu thing, not my cup of tea. Please, please, please lets just have sex in English from now on. Oh, and yes, if you call me a girl again, or refer to me in the feminine gender, you will get kicked in your telephonic groin.

Excuse me. I really feel that I need to have a shrink so that I can be cool as well. And, if there was one, I would be calling him/her right now since I think that is a very major requirement at this moment.

Computers

Day 10,164 – Sunday – 22 Asadha 1930 – 09 Rajab 1429 – 13 July 2008

Disclaimer – As the post progresses there is a marked increase in sex, violent and graphical language. Please proceed at your own responsibility and do not proceed if you are not yet 18 years of age.

This is the first time I am using Pages, which the word processing tool available for Apple, to blog. I have to admit that as a new user of Apple I have to divide the world of computer users into three categories.

The first category is of the users who need to use the computer’s software to the maximum. They need to code in C++ and check if the code works. They need to be incredibly boring on the dinner table, because I don’t want to fucking know that you were able to shorten the code to four lines and now it is using less memory as well as processing power. I have spent four years of my life learning to fucking be an IT guy, and I don’t want to spend one more day at it. Thank you very much.

This category of users will be called the Software utilizers. They need to have a custom built computer with Linux installed on it.

The second category is of the users who need to use the computer’s hardware to the maximum. They need to process video files whilst they play graphics rich computer games. They need to be incredibly boring on the dinner table, because I don’t want to fucking know that you were able to fight off three Zerg rushes before you eventually raided the Zerg camp and destroyed them while the rest of your team could not help you. I have spent years of my life gaming, and I just cannot stand another conversation revolving around computer games any more.

This category of users will be called the Hardware utilizers. They need to have a PC with some version of windows installed on it.

The third category is of the users who need to use the computer’s ability to go basic tasks. They need to check their email, while they listen to music and have a movie on hold in the background. They need to be incredibly boring on the dinner table, because I don’t want to fucking know that you actually learnt that whales are mammals and that your IQ has increased to 70 points. I have spent years of my life dealing with insipid narcissists who have a severe brain deficiencies and I do not want to listen to conversations which push me down the IQ ladder any more.

This category of users will be called the Computer utilizers. They need to have a Mac.

It’s all right. I am not a bad person. I am just vicious and bitter. Also, if I don’t get a whole lot of sex soon, I will be vicious, bitter and perverse. There. Oh, oh, but I am a bed person. I love being in bed. With or without other people.

Wow. If any one of you out there is a psychiatrist, psychologist or just able to assess people, and specifically if you are hot men who will be able to give me love, can you please not email me to tell me that you are insane.

Oh, and yes, whichever one of you searched for “Amazing Gay Sex Karachi” on Google and landed on my blog. Email me now! I need some of that too.

And, I think that if you are a guy, you are not allowed to say fabulous or worst yet – fab. You are not. You are just so not.

See, see, this is what happens. This is what happens to otherwise slightly insane people (read me) when they do not get sex for a very long time. They go stark raving mad! Like me now! Oh My God! I cannot believe I am blogging like this. This is like a fucking scary telephone call when you just cannot hang up because you are stuck in a fucking vicious circle of lies, deceit and self birthing faux pas!

Before I say more. I beg to take to your leave. Good evening and enjoy yourselves. And if you happen to have some good porn quality sex, please do write to me in detail. That seems to be the only sexual intercourse that I will be having in some time.

BH

Day 10,142 – Saturday – 31 Jyaistha 1930 – 16 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 21 June 2008

Still suffering from a long bout of writers block. I apologize for not adding all the usual colour and flavour to your lives. I have a lot to tell; rest assured. Hopefully tomorrow.

As for now. I am typing a quick post from BH’s very small, compact and weirdly quirky laptop.

It’s very interesting blogging from another PC.

Oh, and yes,  I gave BH my blog addy. She went through it, took special exception to her and her husband being called loosers in a previous post. So, I will set the record straight. BH, you are your husband are not loosers. You are a very interesting couple. The most interesting in the world. There. I said it. Are you happy now? What more do you guys want from me! Why is it never enough. Enough with the theatrics Jalal! Good! So, BH, is this ok?

Boss

Day 10,130 – Monday – 19 Jyaistha 1930 – 04 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 09 June 2008

I hate my boss. Dont get me wrong. He is a good guy. He is a good professional. He is a good human being. And he is incredibly irritating. Basically, he is human and that should be enough. But it hardly ever is. Noone wants asshole boss. Some might accept boss. But we all want super boss. Well, they dont exist. At least not in my realm of reality. If you do happen to come across one, please call me immediately, so I can start working with him/her.

Uffffff. The guy repeated the same thing six times today. How the fuck do I know? Why the fuck do I know this for sure? Because I counted. And why in fucks name would I do that??? Because he does repeat a lot and I actually counted.

Why do I get a feeling that I seriously need a life?

In addition to all this excessive talking, I am beginning to realize that I have some version or form of dyslexia. I was reading the previous post and there are times where I have typed the absolutely wrong word. Of instead of Right. And Gone instead of London. And other such things. I do that. I never correct it because I think that is self censorship and that it murders the concept of stream of consciousness.

Wow. Fuck. I guess I can already see a dyslexic mistake.

Now, should I go to a shrink or what?

A a a a a a r r r r r r r r r g g g g g g g g h h h h h h h h h h h h h.

Travel

Day 10,126 – Thursday – 15 Jyaistha 1930 – 30 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 05 June 2008

The world is much much larger than me and my friend AI wanted, or would have liked, it to be today. We want to go for a week long break somewhere. Anywhere. So, like all hot blooded, brain dead idiots we decided to talk to our different travel agents. Mine in Karachi. His in Dubai. And like the innocent vulture spawn that travel agents are, they decided to fleece us of all our money and then slaughter us and finally sell us for parts. I had a list of 29 locations, AI had a list of 12 locations and all in all we had a list of 36 location that we can go to. Decisions are difficult with so much choice. So we narrowed it down to Istanbul, Sri Lanka and Maldives. Lets see what AI says tomorrow. I want to go to Istanbul.

Amongst the three, the only explanation that I can give for going to Istanbul is, for want of a better word – Phallic. Yes, like all other men out there, I too think with my dick. As is the case. And as it should be. And as I like my men. Women do not like it. They do not agree with it. But, for men, there is one thing. Breeding. And that is it. So Sri Lankans and Maldivans dont do it as much for me as Turks. And as Turkey is open Homosexually and there are clubs and stuff. I am getting too far ahead of myself. Of course, the one week will be a drunken haze of walking through bazaars, going to clubs of the “G” kind as my friend A from Lahore likes to call it, and of course enjoying the beautiful city.

Oh and yes, whichever one of you readers was searching for “gay love in karachi” and landed on my blog. Please, please, please, send me an email. Now.

Daylight

Day 10,122 – Sunday – 11 Jyaistha 1930 – 26 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 01 June 2008

Here I am, wallowing atop a billion interesting stories on a daily basis. And, here I am, in a severe case of writers block. I will try to write something tomorrow.

A new month has started four hours ago. Pakistan is again on Daylight savings time, we are now at GMT + 6 hours. My friend is back from Dubai for the weekend. We went to Fanoos last night and discussed, relationships; how it is more difficult for women to find good men than the other way around; Lions, Lionesses, and the wierd morally corrupt family structure of the pride; and finally how woman are man destroyers. We went to Fanoos tonight and cackled like a group of drunk hyena chickens discussing the Punjabi language and its beautiful uses. I met a Lahori guy, who immediately told me that we need to friends and nothing more, serious ego diminishing activities. The weight loss, diet control and exercise regimens are going very well; I feel that I have actually lost some weight. I have joined classes to learn a foreign language, so that is quite cool. My change of job and how I think it has made me a lot cooler professionally and personally. And of course, last but not the least, why the fuck is my right heel in so much fucking pain?

Irritability

Day 10,110 – Tuesday – 30 Vaisakh 1930 – 14 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 20 May 2008

Dont get me wrong. I love my family. They are everything to me. But, at the same time, they are so seriously irritating.

I dont care what they believe in, or what they think, or how they think life is to be lived, I dont care. What I do care about is to be allowed to live my life how I want to live it. Period. And I dont make the demands on them that regular sons and brothers do, I should be making a lot of noise if the food at home is not well cooked, or if any of sisters has any interaction with any man from outside the family I should make an issue out of that. They all enjoy the freedoms of a society which believes in live and let live but at the same time deny me the same. So confusing.

On top of this, when I asked my mom that I wanted to move out, because they were not ready to accept me and I was not ready to reform myself, and I still wanted to lead a life that could make me happy. Every time she cried. It is not crying. It is blackmail. Her reaction scared me and I didnt talk to anyone else about it, because I cared for her. And when it become unbearable a couple of months ago, I told me father about the same. He told me that since I never talked to him about this, he is not to blame. How can any human being ask for something due to which someone so close to them has been crying about.

I was about to move out a couple of months ago. Then again I see my mother crying. So I decided against it. Yes, I agree, as per what they say, they didnt ask me to stay, but who would, what low life does something when someone else is crying in front of them. Could there have possibly been any other option in this whole world.

My family will never be happy at how I want to live. They do not believe in letting other people live their lives, they believe in their extremist interventionist lifestyle. If I can not be who I am and I am forced to live a lie I will be miserable. If I dont, my family will be miserable, and that would make me miserable.

All of you regulars to my blog have heard this before, but here it comes again.

Back to square one. Basically, no option of being happy in life. Since there is no possible way for me to be happy in this life, because I am never going to be allowed to. I have no idea what to do now.

To people out there reading this, please let people live. Please. Dont make their lives miserable simply because you can. Do not force your ideas on them. Do not consistently tell them what to do, they may not resist you, but they resent it. Do not treat everything they say as disrespect and opposition.

And to all the women out there who have a role in our lives as mothers, sisters, wives and daughters. Dont you dare cry. You have no idea what it does to us. For you it is an evil game through which you get us to do what you want us to do. To us it is painful. You have no idea, because to you it is a tool.

Friends

Day 10,101 – Sunday – 21 Vaisakh 1930 – 05 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 11 May 2008

Over the past three days I have been immersed in the concept of friendship. What is a friend? What are friends? How does one become a friend? How does one feel about friends? Why do you take money from me and not return it? Why do I keep the books I borrow from them? And why the hell does NA not follow the codes of conduct of Pakistan male friendship groups. I shall provide a little bit of perspective below.

Pakistani men are a rare breed. In any group of Pakistani male friends conversation revolves around consistent badgering of one of the group by all the others. Generally there is an inevitable policy of turn based circulation of responsibilities. So, if twelve people heckled the fuck out of me last night, I will be doing it to someone else tonight. Love it. But over the course of time some people are selected for this honour more than others.

Now, those of you who belong to the global social subset known as Pakistani-men-who-socialize-with-other-Pakistani-men know exactly what I am talking about. Those of you poor dear extremely unfortunate souls who do not belong to this group will not, can not and will never understand what I am talking about. Pity.

The mere beauty of spending six hours with your friends when eight people just break apart every aspect of your personality in every possible manner and find something ridiculously unacceptable with it and share it with the group and other people pick up on it and add to it. Six hours. A complete definition of yourself and everything that you are about. Amazing.

And then of course, when it just doesnt feel right, and no one has a bulls eye on their forehead, then the group just ends up discussing something absolutely useless and futile. Like yesterdays five hour long discussion on Pakistan, its future, whether we should make a difference or run away, whether we can make a difference, and why does Laetitia Casta have such beautiful boobies. For a gay guy my description of the boobies was very highly rated and one of my friends even went forward to the extent of labling me a closeted hetrosexual with a love for boobies.

I mean, all men love nipples. Gay or straight. Men love nipples. Get over it. And we are also all about the looks. And we fall in love differently. And we will not give you flowers all the time. And we will not tell you that we love you. And we will not treat sex as a gift. And we will not let go of the remote. And we will not stop meeting our friends. And of course, we will love sex. Get the fuck over it.

I am thinking about starting a relationship advice and another gay advice blogs. Dont know if I should go ahead with it.

Stupidity

Day 10,098 – Thursday – 18 Vaisakh 1930 – 02 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 08 May 2008

Apart from all the random whims, fancies and desired that I have on a day to day. Now I also want the ability to remember things that I wanted to blog about during the day. As I sit here I am clenching my fists just trying to remember what it was that I just had to blog about. But I have no idea what it was.

In other news, I am absolutely, completely, unequivocally, unabashedly and properly in love with Dilbert. The way office life is captured. Amazing. I love it. And I love Scott Adams. For all of you who work in offices, please dont waste time reading this collection of stupidities, go to Google and search for Dilbert online.

For the rest of you. Why are you still reading this. Google. Dilbert. Now! Or I will have to use my new leather belt!