My Village Scene

There's a storm across the valley, clouds are rollin' in,
The afternoon is heavy on your shoulders,
There's a truck out on the four lane,a mile or more away
The whinin' of his wheels just makes it colder...
Hey...its good to be back home again,
Sometimes this old farm feels like an old lost lost friend,
Yes...and hey, its good to be back home again...
Back Home Again - John Denver

What I would like to see the first thing when I wake up every morning

Fish pond

Mud bath

Padi

Errr...black and white

More Crap

If you haven't read this one yet, there is this newspaper article on a police beat base which was closed apparently because the vicinity was considered too dangerous even for the men in blue.

That's in down town Chow Kit. West side's drug and cheap ho's haven par excellence, yo!!! I remember way back then, I used to cruise the streets with my crew. We knew a few of the brosephs who soldiered the streets, so we were taken care of and were all good. This is where the hardest of the hardcore jammed. The worse of the lot. You want some heavy shit, a little bit of the shroom maybe, some good herbs, just ask the good 'ol abang down at Lorong Haji Taib.

Man, I miss those days, the good stuff. But not the ho's. I hear the whole deal down that street has gone so bad these days, its like beyond the beyond. Heard the brothers from Africa had taken over and shit and I sure hope they're having a ball. I think they will since there ain't no more five o's to diss them brothers.

And I'm like...

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot???!!!

For obvious reason, this didn't go too well with the rest of the good people of Chow Kit which also prompted a certain politician to question the move. The report also says our homey minister thinks the location is a dirty area and so therefore, there was a high possibility that the men in his charge might be exposed to contagious disease. Hence, why it was necessary for the police beat base to be moved to, check this out...a fucking safer zone, yo!!!

Can you fucking believe this shit???

But coming from a politician, which makes him an idiot of an elephantine proportion, this comes as no surprise. Politicians are idiots by nature. But you know this dude as this bald, ugly and obese person whose current joy in life is ISA-ing folks. If you didn't know yet, matters concerning our nation's security affairs and shit are all taken care of by our homey minister.

And you would have thought he'd stop right there. But Nooooooo, he didn't. Went on to say that the presence of criminals in the vicinity of Chow Kit also, check this out...posed a threat to the safety of the men in blue.

And I am like...

Nooooo shiiiitttt!!!

Djin

It's 10:46pm.

I had 7 big cats earlier at Ruai and would have continued to stay if not for the sudden influx of the young and very loud kind. Now, there is this noise in my head that goes like this - ngeeeeiiiinnnggg....ngeeeeeeiinngg...ngeeeeeiiinnggg.

Shit happens every time when I hadn't enough beer. Like just now. But it could be the djin.

There's a djin inside my head. And it changes shape and form. Sometimes a woman, sometimes a man, sometimes appearing as a two headed djin. A man and a woman. My djin is always that voice. That voice that tries to prove all of the shit I've heard or thought about myself. All the bad shit, of course. Djin's are only good at that.

When I was younger my djin had control. I made self-destructive choices with destructive results and I could hear the mo'fucker snickering in the distance saying, 'See? I fucking told you'.

I'm a little older now and my djin surfaces only when I'm fucking tired or stressed. When I'm feeling fucking defenseless I allow that voice to direct and lead me astray, sometimes with words which are meaningless to me but hurtful to others. Most days the voice just leads me to Ruai.

Right now, the voice is asking me to check out Minori Aoi but I know what that will lead to and I will not because I choose not to. Not tonight, djin.

Instead, I will shut the voice and drink that last can of Stella in the fridge now.

Good night.

Of Kites And Suns

I just finished reading two wonderful books back to back - The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns, both by Khaled Hosseini. Took me 5 weeks. I have only this to say - thought provoking, heart wrenching to the fucking max.

I'm generally not an emotional person. Even the passing of my great grand mother a couple of years ago didn't affect me that much. And I shared room with the old lady for a good part of my teens. The day John Denver crashed his Long-EZ bird and died doesn't count. I cried when my dad called to tell me the news. I like to think he's jamming up there with Moses and Elijah singing Take Me Home, Country Roads and shit. With good ol' Peter on cymbals.

But this two books made me...all teary and shit. It has been a long time since a book had emotionally got to me this much, I kid you not.

Now for the spoiler.

There's a lot of violence. Domestic abuse, misery, betrayal, suicide and like, everyone dies. A terrible, horrible death. Mangled bodies everywhere. Shit tubes exposed and shit. The hero, heroine, their parents, grandparents, brothers and sister, girlfriends, boyfriends, their sheep, dog's, a few Taliban and everything else. Obliterated. Blood everywhere. The mayor of Herat (don't know where Herat is? Go google it, bitch!) is impaled on a stake and six days later his corpse is fed to the dogs. And someone also gets butt fucked. By force.

Sad, no?

Look, if you haven't read these two books yet, you're an idiot of an elephantine proportion. So, go on. Get the books.

That is all.

Blues

Time - 11:13pm.

After a rather long, rainy, non productive weekend infused with not more than 24 cans big cats, I was hoping Monday would find me feeling more energized, more into it, ready to roll up my sleeves and take on the fucking world.

No fucking luck.

I have been unusually tired of late, a feeling I can usually trace to a lack of activity or responsibility. Or it could actually be the beer. I was told by a good doctor friend that excessive drinking could be a legitimate cause. Its the beer, the good doctor says. What fuckaload of bullshit!!!

But I also realise that I need the drive of deadlines and appointments to keep me going. And without them I sink into this dullness of inactivity. At my ciggy break with my buddy this afternoon, I told him how I walked into the office this morning and felt like I needed to do something and not feeling like doing anything.

Take it easy, bro. Chill out, he says.

Thing is, I don’t do chilling very well. It makes me feel...kind of...I don't know...useless.

And while my mind spins furiously with all these things I should do and should want to do, my body feels awfully stubborn about remaining perched in one spot, complaining and engineering all sorts of excuses not to do anything.

On the bright side, today didn't really start that bad. Been on a strict meat diet since Thursday and I realised this morning I haven't been shitting properly since. But at 10:17am this morning I had a huge dump. Generally, my shit tubes feels better and thats what matters for now.

I feel another huge one coming. Ahhhhh...joy.