Four

Their bodies fit so perfectly. There was no way he could describe it, he thought – not in a manner anyone would understand, anyway. Each time was differently beautiful. He could not imagine a greater happiness. They made love like it was in the movies, and he could hear the soundtrack in the background. He turned onto his side and put his arm around her. She looked at him and her eyes said

Hold me

He ran his hands over the smooth contours and instantly felt her respond. He leaned forward and lay his cheek on the cool metal, and felt the tingle in his spine, the hair beginning to stand up on his arms. There is a special bond between a man and his machine. There was no way he could describe it, he thought – not in a manner anyone would understand, anyway. He put on his helmet, his fingers wriggled into the well-worn gloves. She growled deeply, like a jungle cat, and he could feel the vibrations between his thighs. She was raring to go and he knew it. He leaned forward again and quietly whispered "C’mon baby...

Thrill me

She felt the pull, and it was irresistible. She could feel the heat off him and the magnetic attraction combined with the pulsating beat coursing through her lithe body drove her into a state of near frenzy. Dancing with a man she just met had never been like this before. There was no way she could describe it, she thought – not in a manner anyone would understand, anyway. His mind was elsewhere, probably with the girl he woke up next to, but she didn’t care. She slipped her hand underneath his shirt and felt the beads of sweat running down his back. She pulled him closer and mouthed with an urgency

Kiss me

She could smell the perfume and in an instant, she knew. He loved her more than anything else in the world – that was never in doubt. She knew he would never lie to her, and she loved him for that. But the pain was too much. There was no way she could describe it, she thought – not in a manner anyone would understand, anyway. Words were not necessary - his eyes told her everything she needed to know. It was only physical, she knew, but she could not bring herself to accept...she could not get the images out of her mind. She held him close, and thought "If you don’t need me anymore, my love..." And the words slipped out quietly

Kill me

^

Celebration

Dinner : 4 parts whisky, 2 parts chicken.
Accompaniment : Dio, Rush Chronicles, Tchaikovsky, Pearl Jam, and Trilok Gurtu on shuffle.
Dessert : gb&a, 6 string
After : Apocalypse Now (redux)

The End.

^

....logue

*strike*
*drag*

Too many people I know getting married nowadays. Makes one think, that does. Some people I’ve been out of touch with for years turning up with "I’m getting married. Please come." Well, good for you. I wish you all the best, I’m sure.
And what’s the deal with all these weddings in December this year eh? If I hear of another one, I’ll just be...So, what’s uh, the deal? The stars all in alignment? Fat lot of good that’ll do if you two don’t get along at all, isn’t it?
"Oh, I know it’s only been two years, and I know I’ve already slept around...she’s pregnant and we don’t have anything to talk about...but it’ll be ok, because we got married on the best muhurtam in the whole year..." Sure. Like a very perceptive and funny man said through an incredibly lovable 6-year old, it seems perfectly reasonable that your daily life should be controlled by large masses of fire and gas that are millions of miles away, doesn’t it? Yeah, that sounds about right, chief. Good luck.

*drag*

You know, when you really think about it, everyone’s born old. Really old. Where do you think your genes come from, eh? The way kids today are, they probably think they come from Shoppers’ Stop Children's Section. Or better yet, downloaded. Don’t get me started on kids these days. And to think all those people getting married in December this year will be producing another batch of the little tykes in the near future...

*drag*

So, we’re all born a few million years old, really. To think a few small tweaks here and there in one sperm cell out of a million or so makes us who we are. Well, half of who we are at any rate. The other half coming from the egg of course. I was reading somewhere that scientists have traced the human lineage back to a single female, who lived really, really long ago. They’ve called her the Primordial Eve or some such thing. Well done, guys. There’s a few lives well spent, eh? I’m sure it was all worth it just to be able to tell the guy buying the latest J-Lo record at the local HMV store, with the red eyes and the begging-to-be-washed tee shirt, and hear him go "Uh huh? Cool..."
A few million years old. And we quibble about a figure that’s not even in three digits.
What’s my age, again?

*drag*

A couple of weekends ago, I decided I wanted to hang out with new people. I made a random call, rode in the pouring rain, my darling Michelle was very unhappy because some sorry ass son of a bitch traffic cop put his grubby paws on her...but it was worth it. I met a whole bunch of new people, who are keen on bike trips, are into all kinds of music, we discussed Erich Von Daniken, and they invited me to join their band. I don’t remember the last time I discussed Daniken with someone who actually knew his work! A thoroughly enjoyable evening – it was exactly what I needed.

*drag*

Work is killing me. But the learning curve is so steep it’s actually worth it. For someone used to literally being evicted from office at 6.00 pm, it’s interesting to be working in a 24-hr facility, and coming home at all hours of darkness. I had some official visitors from out of, well, continent really, and they took a few pictures of statues inside our facility. There’s a big one outside the main entrance, with palms together, in a welcoming gesture. I later imagined explaining to the visitors the significance of ‘namaste’, and realized I’d actually forgotten. Why are the palms together so? It’s a gesture of greeting, of welcome, and of worship as well. Maybe there’s a connection to be seen in "Athithi devo bhava", but still...why are the palms together so? I seem to remember some significance or explanation on the lines of the fingers all pointing to the heavens or some such thing...
Hmm. Interesting. Daniken, anyone?

*drag*

I’m trying to live healthier. I’ve dropped the habit of a morning cigarette. It was quite pointless, really. I realized it’s only enjoyable when done once in a while. And I seemed to be starting the work day just a little stupider than I was when I woke up. The mornings feel a lot better now – I seem to be cursing less. And I’m trying to find time for exercise, for sport, and introspection. All healthy in normal dosage, you would agree. This is, of course, without going into the done-to-death discussion of why smoke at all.
Not tonight, honey...my chest hurts.

*drag*

I’ve found that of late, I seem to be spending about twenty or thirty seconds contemplating the last drag of a cigarette. Now that the morning one is gone, there are only two others during the course of a day. And the presumably last drag of each makes me think on the lines of ‘is it worth it?’ ‘But I paid for it, and I want my money’s worth.’ ‘Yeah, you’re getting your money’s worth...of cancer! Not a poor man’s disease, that one.’ ‘But then...’
Oh, screw it.

*drag*
*flick*

I could use a nice Irani chai right about now.
Yeah, Zam Zam Café should do just fine. A short walk round the corner would be nice, too.

Ek chai. Kadak.

*strike*
*drag*

^

There.
It's happened again.
That pit of the stomach dropping off thing. That churning of organs, spitting out a baleful, sickening noise. The voices, the derisive laughter in the head.
The ghosts of the past just won't give up. How ironic that I played one in a high school play.
Someone tore out the script, now I'm standing in the centre of the stage...with no lines to say. I stare, and they stare back. The second the resolve in the eyes appears to fade and the strut weakens, death becomes imminent.
And Death is not an option.

Should I go? What purpose will it serve?
Should I stay? Or is this the chance to prove something? The strongest sword is one forged in the fires of hell.

Duvidha

Some mistakes are irresistible.
There are only about, oh say, thirteen thousand things I shouldn't have said / done. But it's a bit late for that now.
Some kinds of news can do strange things to the body and the mind.
The body is doing the expected, but due to reasons different than expected.

There is only one way from here - up.

So I guess I'll be seeing you there, my friends of misery.
And in hell, too.

^

I ain't dead yet.
Not quite.

Just paying a visit to the dark side.

^