What does 7 hours in a black box do to a man?

Before that, lemme get something outta my system first..

God is a bully, He wears yellow pyjamas and has a nasal drawl. Yea.. He is an Aussie.. and keeps shape shifting in their cricket team. That is the absolute truth, if there was ever one.

Now that it is over with, let us continue.

I am sitting in the dark room again. Some of you must have heard my odd grumble on phone about this forsaken place of indomitable boredom and such. After spending half of the wondeful day (that was today) enclosed in this not-so-little black box with fancy toys, I feel an irrepressible urge to blurt out loud. The experiment has been driving me crazy. I sometimes wonder, if I would turn (completely) insane one day.. if continue to do research. Humour me, would you, when I use such pretentious words.

See, the thing is.. wehn you are stuck in a dull lit room for a long time, your mind starts to wade out. You start seeing manic icehoppers walking along the tables, dodging the swinging coils from the cabinet tops. Devils and angels sit on your shoulders, ones sipping iced coke from the can and the others discussing secret recipes for the weekend hopscotch getaway. All this, while the little gnome in the Phrygian cap is trying to toast marshmellows on the green laser, which you should realize is not really what they show Quigon Jinn carrying in his robe.

It gets worse after that. I ll spare you the details.

BTW

If you are ever in Philly, please do visit this lil French bakery in Rittenhouse sq. called Miel Patisserie.

Do.

Pictures from last week, DC

I need more coffee

A lot of time is being spent in the labs of late since the recent not-needed-but-enforced-anyway 4 day break. Life has been a bit hazy and bemusing since. The air in the room is being swept by a varied range of audibles.. from the vacuum pumps' hissing to my devil dances on Pandora's incessants. I have a sinking feeling that there would be a lot more documentation of such sorry mundanities here in the near future. On a related note, please acknowledge this band as the most radio friendly band of recent times. Do indulge.

Growing up, you never thought adulthood would be so incredibly boring (notice the implication). It is typically one of those things you hoped was not really true.. what you read in books, and watched in the hopeless romances in dark theaters. But truth be told, being an adult is boring. As boring as a hideously self obsessed buffalo next to a topie clad kid cleaning the muck of the lake. Discovering this morose fact, is ironically the interesting part. (Give it up, it is 12 midnight and I am in the universality mode again).

You also sleep less, as an adult. Any regular reader of this blogger should endorse this fact.

And you watch a lotta movies. Which is, categorically a bad thing. Bad, as in a very vulgar misappropriation of time.

Details notwithstanding, non-adulthood totally kicked butt. No late nights, no interning, no cubicles, no greek frappes, no psychotropical soul podcasts, no semi arid dreams, no powerpoints, no hysterises, no survivalisms, no cross-words, no subways.. no nookies, no supersized home deliveries, no coke. Wait.. may be coke. Err.. it's coke!!

[Moment]

That was highly unnecessary. I found my first grey hair a few weeks back. Must be the rites of passage talking. Sigh.

And before I forget.. here's wishing the man many returns. (Well, he's always the man.)




















Quote of the day: "Half my life has been an extended weekend!!" Such pearls.

Hook, line and sinker.

Sorry. Smitten.

We live in a world of mirrors. Each reflecting off the other. All around us, they stand. In each we share a representation, a part of an entity not so different from the next. Break one, and you see a cracked self. Break all, and you stand alone.