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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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Edge

Monday – 12 Jamadi us Sani 1424 – 20 Sravana 1925 – 11 August 2003

my life is one big miserable hell. i know i know here he goes again but it is. i hate it. for the past three years i have been severely depressed and severely elated by turns. a friend once told another friend about me that i am mentally unstable. well he was right. i am. right now i am severely depressed. actually suicidally depressed. that is coz i am home. a different concept for most people. not for me. i hate being home.

well i dont know why i am writing this post but i am writing it. i hate this life. if an angel were to come and give me a choice to die i will take it immadiately. but with one condition noone should get hurt. noone else should get hurt because i am a coward. my cowardice should not be their fault. why should someone suffer for someone elses sefish desire to end unbearable pain day in and day out.

another reason why i havent managed to commit suicide yet is because i am an idiot. i care too much about people. i nearly went through with it in college. but when i was about to drink something i realized i had just had a horrible fight with a friend. if i do this he can blame himself. i would destroy his life. which i dont want. i just want mine to end without anyone elses being destroyed. same is the case right now. i am NOT getting along with my mom. she knows it. if i FUCKING kill myself she will think it has something to do with her. GODDMANIT !!! cant i just fucking kill myself without thinking over it a million times.

oh i seem to stopped my fucking suicidal ranting. so i shall continue with it. i cannot drink this fucking bottle of medicine in front of me because i am a fucking human who has relations. and they will get too fucking hurt if i drink it. so the only thing i can do is look at it longingly. make believe i drink it. and die and am released of this pain. but i cant do it. GODDAMNIT !!! i hate this.

i have lost all hope and belief in life. i dont want to life. i dont want to continue this neverending cycle of pain and sorrow for myself. i dont want to live. i would die happily were it not for the lives of people linked with me. why why why. if allah made me like this why couldnt he have made it so i dont have anyone to think about before i drink that bottle.

i am so sorry i am doing this to all of you who have to read this. i am so sorry. but i dont care any more. it is because i care that i am alive and not dead. it is because i care that i didnt drink that bottle and am still fucking here. i am so sorry to put this all on you. i made this blog as an emotional release. but now i have gotten to know some of you so well that i cannot hurt you. but you dont know. thank god. at least i can talk about what i think. at least we dont know each other that well.

DAMNIT … now i will have to make a private blog where i can say all this. and not feel as if it will effect anyone. please please. if you can understand what i wrote. please do not get affected by what i said. just read it and try to learn from but. but dont feel it. i would not want to be someone who causes anyone pain or sorrow. i just want all this to end. with noone feeling any pain or sorrow for me. my family happy.

sometimes i think i will go and have sex with another man and come home drunk and tell my family. then commit suicide. maybe they will think it is for the best. but i cant. because then my family will keep thinking that they had a son why didnt he turn out like any other normal person. i dont want to let them down. but fuck man i have let every one down. i have let everyone down. even myself. damn it. damn it all.

Whimsical

Saturday – 03 Jamadi us Sani 1424 – 11 Sravana 1925 – 02 August 2003 

well remember the time when you go home. everyone is really nice. they treat you well. they cook you magnificent food. and stuff. well i am sure you dont. because i dont either. such a perfect time doesnt exist. there are always things that screw it up.

like the time when someone spills milk on the expensive silks. or when someone says wow you have lost weight just to be nice. and the other person says. you think i was fat before ? or when everyone stops to take a breath and there is a long awkward silence. or when the food gets burnt and one woman has to cry about how she cannot do anything right. or when oh yes this is what happened to me. you fall down in the mud made by the rain and soil yourself. and the 5674 relatives in your house for the party make fun of you for 4 hours.

also. when someone tells you to trust them when they sell you something. DONT ! never trust someone who is selling. always check up. even if it is just a jeans and you wanted to know if they look good on you. or if it is a new form of hair growing creme that is purple and has fumes coming out of it.

hmmmmmm. you know what. i am beginning to think i am wierd. i write about the strangest of things. why am i like this? (note to self: jalal please dont go there) ok ok. so why would someone think this way (note to self: jalal please dont go there). ok ok. whatever.

so you see it takes three lines to get paranoid and start talking to oneself. and all this infront of other people. oh my god. i so need to get a life.

also i dont understand one thing. i am sorry i probably would be removed from the gay brother(sic)hood but what is a drag queen.

another thing. when americans talk abotu beer or alcohol. there are times when you need a break. or need a relief. or need to be aloof. you talk about getting alcohol. what does it do. i have never had alcohol. what does it do. i mean stuff like. my mom is coming. i hate my mom. so i am going to get drunk. or i dont want to sit with them all night but i have to so i will get alcohol. i mean what is the deal with alcohol.