Tanked vs full filled

Tanked = ful(l)filled?
Just a thought...

As I go into the last day of 2003, many thoughts running thru my head. Abt my last New Years eve, in a club in Piccadilly Circus...all I've done this year...my life, and all the rest of it. And I come to the most important and significant question of all - how hung over will I be on 1st?

I cld get tanked, but will that bring me fulfillment? I cld feel fulfilled, but will I need to be tanked for that? What is the equation? What gives, basically?

If I were a car and I was tanked, then I wld be full filled, innit?

It was long ago and it was far away, oh God it seems so very far
And if life is just a highway then the soul is just a car...
and objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are...

This year, I wish that people I care about get tanked with enough happiness to keep them going for a long, long time...
Sh'long 2003 - Thanks for everything...
Next stop - 2004 - 14 hours.
And like someone very aptly said - To Us!

Oh let the sun beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been
To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen
They talk of days for which they sit and wait and all will be revealed

Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace, whose sounds caress my ear
But not a word I heard could I relate, the story was quite clear

All I see turns to brown, as the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasted land
Trying to find, trying to find where I’ve been.

Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place, yellow desert stream
My shangri-la beneath the summer moon, I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high and true, when movin’ through Kashmir.

Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face, along the straits of fear

"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief,
"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."

"No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke,
"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late."

All Along the Watchtower - Bob Dylan

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps
I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love
I don't know how someone controlled you
They bought and sold you.

I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps
I don't know how you were diverted
You were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted
No one alerted you.

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
Look at you all...
Still my guitar gently weeps.

What about love? It's defective - it's always breaking in half
What about sex? It's defective - it's never built to really last
What about your family? It's defective - all the batteries are shot
What about your friends? They're defective - all the parts are out of stock

What about hope? It's defective - it's corroded and decayed
What about faith? It's defective - it's tattered and it's frayed
What about your Gods? They're defective - They forgot the warranty
What about your town? It's defective - it's a dead end street to me

What about your school? It's defective - it's a pack of useless lies
What about your work? It's defective - it's a crock and then you die
What about your childhood? It's defective - it's dead and buried in the past
What about your future? It's defective - and you can shove it up your ass!

Life is a lemon and I want my money back...

There's no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation feels like bliss
I keep my mind from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earth-bound mystic, I

Has anyone actually seen the Paris Hilton video? Do the links work? Was it worth it?
'There's no such thing as too much porn' - Joey Trebbiani.

Confucius say: Soldier who go to bed horny wake up with dishonourable discharge...

Yay!

Yay! Figured out how to add links to other blogs in template.
Yay! Now I can go directly to smart and intelligent peoples'sss blogs without HAVING to reroute thru other pplss...
Yay! Now maybe ppl will start reading mine and think Im a smart intelligent people...
We are a people you know - me and my myriad small creatures...read the description under the name, Alice! Dayamn, do ah hayav to tail yous everythan'?

Return to Innocence

Hmmm..just been going thru many many blogs of many many people...interesting to say the least. Not a good day today. Im in Steve Waugh mode - everything feels the same. At least, that's what it looks like to the casual observer. Profound discussions do nothing.
Which reminds me of the one I had with Rajesh at the shoot a few days ago. Started out telling him of the awful video I chanced upon. Rather quickly and worryingly ran into an analysis of Islam, religion and inevitably, "Life". An even freakier coincidence was that we reached the evolution of thought - that rather serious discussion Maharshi n I had a long time ago. Why do these things always end there???

That was another depressing discussion. And, for once, I don't think being drunk would have made it any better.

Amma and Nanna chanced upon a very old tape which had a voice recording of mine. They are threatening to release it to AIR and Doordarshan. However, though I did cringe at the sound of my voice all those years ago, it brought back that painful longing for those years of innocence..not a care in the world. Biggest concerns revolving around how many runs or how many goals I would
score at the park today.


Yeh daulat bhi le lo, yeh shohorath bhi le lo
Bhale cheen lo mujh se meri jawaani...
Magar mujhko lauta do woh bachchpan ka saawan...
Woh kaagaz ki kashti, woh baarish ka paani...

One cannot consent to crawl when one feels an impulse to soar...

"Oh My God"

What was that last blog all about? QED..I AM mad.
I remember writing a piece on the thin line between genius and madness...must find it. Then, must find the time to blog it. Then, must find time to read it. Then, must find time to ponder...
Like I said earlier, its ollabat da time...

Nonsensica

Its 5.50 pm and Ive already been jobless for a while now. Its drivin me friggin crazy. The bloomin medical profiles are done...I wonder if anyone will recognise I finished them first...

Where the mind is without beer,
And the bread smells dry
Where knowledge a tu whit tu wheeeeeee!
And the curd is not fragmented by narrow domestic brawls (amongst the bacteria of course)
da dada dadadadaa...
da adadada...
Into that leather of freedom, my father, let all and sundry take a break...

Forgive me..for I know not what I do...

Hmm..wonder how much sense that would make stoned...

blurb

hmm..other people's blogs seem to make so much more sense, they are so much profounder...maybe it just takes time.
Funny thing - time. Think of all it means, all its implications, the way it controls more than most other things we know in our daily lives. In the end, we find ourselves defined by it. We are children of the age we were born in. We live for a certain while and whatever other obstacles we may overcome in life, the one thing we can never beat is time.
And to think we only have a very, very vague idea of what it is...
Like the man said "Tiiiiiiime..is on my side...yes it is..."

I hope I can erase some of this gibberish someday...like I was just saying..it's only words..and words are all I have..to take your medulla oblangata away...

umm..first tentative steps into a world Im not sure I belong in..or want to belong in...