Surrounded by the words and vague little thin layer of air passing through the same thought processes accustomed to the very less purposeful literary expressions. My not so tuned instruments hanging near by my bookshelf are staring at me with distress and discomfort. Books lie down on the floor with such apathy as we call it existential crisis. Even to be less uniformed and less constructive, hypothetically I ought to be directed. Common phenomena that lies within the thirst for true relatedness, ego free relations, deliberately conveys me the purpose and the fragile truth through the medical disorder called 'anxiety'. 
I try and decode the journey called "from being to become".

I fail i succumb, i fail i succumb. Precautionary movements have been idle all the way through. What is going to happen or what has happened matters to me a very little. I am a visionary but not so precautionary. It is quite similar to what economics teaches me. Sometimes you ought to do things which you are not supposed to do or you dont believe in, for the respect of mindless hunger and strife for success; nowadays money. So what? Everyone does! no one cares! no one fears to face the extinction. Like an unstructured obnoxious parasite i survive within the drenched night along with the nightmares.Its not actually what you perceive, its about how you want others to perceive you. Definition matters. I have read ridiculous philosophies over the period of time yet i couldnt gather a single thought or virtue of the literature. Essence of the existence is notabout living the life, its about surviving like an ugly creatutre. Even a phillospher wishes to be read, wishes to be heard, no matter what his philosphy is meant for. We all are part of the dysfunctional illusion where everyone thinks treats themselves as thinkers. We all have somewhere compromised ourselves for the sake of living. May be for the girl we love, may be wife or may be friends. Compromise is not an excuse for the failures and manifested depressions. We live, we survive, we suffer, we admire and pretend to rise. The ugly truth eventually at some random point everyone understands.

as i consider

As i crush my words against the benevolent gestures of the literature, i sense a tendency within me to not to follow my own instincts, very well described by my own words, indefinitely leading my own existence, to the void.

Everything around me whether a thing or a person claiming to possess some sort of existence, scream me from the depth of its tremendous potential. Unlike me, everyone is seeking expression of experience in the mindless hunger of success. Success- a relative phenomenon. If i were to decide the right moment and the right perspective of my life, i would have been merely an ugly creature with no size, shape or face either. Crowd has no face nor do i have any of a similar kind but nevertheless i continue to pursue the undefined. The hot pursuit i enjoy along with my integrity and dignity, it makes me interesting and make me fall in love with me. Yes! Just like a mirror. You see, how you see yourself in the mirror.

Constructive ambush I produce when I am writing is really not a mere show off. I live the moment when it comes to writing. The process of writing which lets me have my time with myself gives the same satisfaction I would get while performing some rock number in front of the listeners. The only difference is now my words get crowded on a blank sheet.

With my karma I feel the speed. I travel, travel and travel. I write I survive I gamble I refuse I reject I contradict I predict and I succumb. I succumb to the literature. I succumb to the power I feel I get through writing. Perhaps I don’t deny this one thing about me but at the same time one shouldn’t underestimate the immense knowledge and expressions of human existence that literature offers. Whatever you do, you make an impression of yourself in your own eyes that you are becoming a part of this unattainable race. All we can do is considering ourselves as void. And enjoy the journey with all possible complexities.  

happy birthday kurt cobain

and I forget just why I taste
Oh yeah I guess it makes me smile
I found it hard it's hard to find
Oh well! Whatever nevermind"
These are the words which echo in my mind almost everyday. Great words by a truly contented song-writer and musician "Kurt Cobain"
Many of us in the pursuit of never ending knowledge of music must have encountered with the truly hypnotic music of nirvana.
Generations to generations Nirvana will influence musicians. The dark lyrics and not so complicated compositions was the X-factor which Nirvana had.
God bless nirvana.
God bless Kurt Cobain. Love peace

Ashwin and Akshay Jamming Session

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surviving hallucination

I stare... Sometimes it feels as if I am staring at nothingness.. Many vehicles many people are just passing away from my eyesight within a blink of a second.. As if they are those moments which I want to forget completely.. No motion no emotion no compassion no devotion.  Everything is either moving too quickly or my analytical ability is been lowered down by my victorious yet meaningless lust for alcohol. Who denies the ability to see, everyone enjoys the vision but very few of our human race understand the path. May be I am being critic of my own achievements. I tend to deliver my unstructured thought process via some sort of pretended intelligence and fake literary abundance whenever I see something too speedy, something I can not grasp..something I can not predict..something I can just see but can not interpret..
These expensive cars and meaningless headless people around me piss me off to a very greater extent but I have understood how meaningful this meaningless dilemma is when it comes to algebraic counting and aimless hunting for money.
Am I sick of it? Or am I just another loser who couldn't fit in this society? I have no answers.. may be I will get these answers afterlife. 

I have definitely been the victim of alcohol..may be it's an open confession.. But to an extent what I have been through and to what extent I have been living like an asshole, I should thank my substance abuse. That is what kept me away from these... These.. These... Civilized people. No matter how I end up, I have no regrets.

Definitions are not what has been defined..a definition is what something defines..definitions change.. Ofcourse they change..even The Julias César couldn't define his role when it came to quiting the power.. 
"I am julias César ,I don't pray so that someone may forgive me, and i don't forgive if someone prays" 
Forgiveness is not an option when it comes to ruling by your instincts.. 
Bhagwat geeta says "nothing is right or wrong  ..the time the venue the situation decides what is right or wrong" lord Krishna says "MAI WO SAMAY HU JO KAHEGA KYA SAHI HAI AUR KYA GALAT" 
In short "MAI SAMAY HU"..
If this period of my life where I am ready to deny my own existence and I understand that I am a worthless piece of shitt..i don't mind.. I am not the one who can define time..who can Chang time..
I cant even Change the outcome of my deeds.. Only thing in my hand is circumstance.. 
Only thing in our hand is circumstance.. 
U can shake the earth but not the sea..
And this is how i should drown.. 
This is how i end up..
This is how I lack understanding.

अर्थविरहिन विचार

मी  हरवलेला नाही. सापडलेला तर मुळातच नाही. माझं सत्व तपासून पाहिण्याची संधी मी स्वतःला कधी दिली नाही. स्वतःला स्वतःची भिती वाटू शकते का? वाटली तरी स्वतःला पटवून देण्याची क्षमता कोणत्याही मनुष्यात असते का?
स्वतः कडून कधीच काही अपेक्षा नव्हत्या. होत्या त्या जमीनदोस्त कधी झाल्या कळू शकला नाही. किंवा मला सगळा कळत होतं पण जाणून बुजून कधी समजू शकलो नाही. असही असेल! मी कदाचित खूप भित्रा आहे. मी कदाचित सत्वाच्या गोष्टी करण्यात अस्तित्वाला गमावून बसलो. उम्मेद या रात्रीच्या अंधारात लपून बसावी तशी माझ्या आयुष्या पासून असणारी आशा गडप झाली आहेत.
उजेड असो वा अंधार, स्पर्श केवळ अशक्य. प्रकाशात किंवा प्रकाशाला  एकरूप व्हावं परिस्थितीशी का होता येत नाही?
फुलपाखरांचा तो मुक्ताविहार, वृक्षाची ती निस्वार्थ माया, काजव्यांचा तो लखलखता आत्मविश्वास, आभाळाची अपार सीमा, चंद्राचा शीतल प्रकाश, आसक्त वाटांची त्रस्त वळणे, हरवलेले विचार, तुटलेली स्वप्नं, निरागसता,अश्रूंचा अर्थ अमी हास्याचे कारण, या विचारांची जळमट्ट मोडक्या आणि मोजक्या अश्या आयुष्याच्या पासाऱ्याचं कारण का बनतात.   
एखाद्यानी मरावं कारण जगता येत नाही कि जगावं कारण मरता येत नाही. मृत्युच्या भितीला आयुष्याची उपमा द्यावी कि जगण्याच्या इच्छेला मृत्यूची भिती म्हणावी. 

Contradictions

         How simply we switch from one thought process to another. Just like an giant wave fluctuates its destination towards destruction. Anatomy behind the intentions of the wave, no one understands rather no one makes an attempt to understand. Far beneath the tortured soul of the nature we live in, i have been tortured by surmounted thoughts and allegations. I attempt to succumb to every possible thought that makes me feel that i am the victim and at the same time i am the cause. i have no sympathy towards me but i don't intend to harm those.... well..... those whom we call our LOVED ONES.
          I have tried a lot to make me understand the clear and justified path. Well somehow i feel i have understood that. Well willing to do something and doing what you are willing to do are two immensely different things.. we must act. Chuck it..
         My write ups are not for the sake of some motivational bullshit. That's the magic behind writing, You can contradict yourself from paragraph to paragraph. Its not much of a contradiction than unpleasant irrational vague unstructured words trying to compensate my own, not so directional thoughts or my way of living my blistered life.
         Every adjective has got some meaning. Adjectives are meaningful and needed to impose some sort of dysfunctional impact over the readers. Some intellectuals may feel that i am fulfilling my passion to write only by adding unnecessary words and grammatical expressions. well i don't care!
Much of my writing i don't remember the next morning. That's how it is and that's how it will always be.
         I have read enough shit in my life and i have tried to imply those words from those great authors in my mediocre life. Well, it did not help. It doesn't. and it won't. Philosophies are not built on some XYZ's intellect or thought process. Philosophies have always been the contradictions to the society's thought processes'. When you find yourself not able to match with the some mispalced ideologies and you find that there are many like you who felt that they were misfit in the society, they agree to your thoughts and your thought are known as PHILOSOPHIES.
         I dont like to impose my thoughts on somebody. Many people younger than me are way more talented than me. I just have a nagging feelingthat just because they are young to me they look up to me as an ideal example. NO! I am NOT worth it! Nobbody is. Darkest secrests of any person lies far beneath the soul of his/her. Am i getting boring again? well i am talking to my writing pad as it never answers it will never answer.
         my writing should never be considered as some sort of philosophy as i have not a understood a fuck about life. People say hardships make you understand the worth of life. Well i believe hardships make you dream of becoming something that you are not right now. Don't misinterpret vision with illusion. "You are only as good as your world allows you to be"- Joker( From the film called The Dark Knight)
Rather than thinking of becoming someone better than others, i would put my efforts to become someone who is tolerant as well as the one who is stubborn the one who is directionless and who deserves a journey who counterattack his own contradiction with himself and who has only one purpose in life that is to exist and exist with no perceptions anticipations and expectations.
            Well what I want from life shouldn't have been mentioned in this write up of mine. But you know as i mentioned it earlier that that is the magic of writing, you can contradict yourself whenever you want to and however you want to. "Thoughts flow like butterflies" - Pearl Jam( phrase from a song called Even flow by pearl jam)
              now i suppose i want to discuss about the scariest part of the literature. the scariest part of the literature is, literature is not just a command over some language but expressions. Expressions change, Reactions change, people change from time to time. "Illusion is the only reality. The pnly contradiction is the observer"-Unknown. well to write all these random thoughts with nothing to convey, i dint require to scrap few pages or bearn my pretty fatty fingers. All it takes to write is the flow. Doesnt have to b directional always. How beautiful a river looks when you dont know the source of it or the destination it plans to arrive at. This is how i feel our human life is. I dont expect you to believe it. i will never will. The silent presence of our existence which flows with a gentle and humble flow is the reason i write or we write and read. Expressions and exploration of literature without expectations and come up with something of your own. Literary work is not something should be appreciated. What contradicts is what you crave for. LOVE PEACE
                As far as craving is concerned i have been through worst. i have been through some sort of illusions. such as substance abuse.. We can always come back from the illusions and and make our own illusion which is far more convenient. Convenience wiil be regretted someday. A day shall come in my life where i will criticize myself for choosing convenience over irrationality.
                Sounds stupid right? well thats the magic. Contradicting yourself. See how pathetically well described agony you build within yourself.
                Well, obviously for no reason.   

CHERISH MY DEMISE

As unfortunate as it seems
Graveyard is at peace
Soul sucking witch is what you are
this battlefield in between you and me

Singing to the rhythm of my heartbeat
Darkness falls when you dance to it.

What gratitude what mercy
my inner child could see
Your god has nothing
but blisters to offer me

Don't i sacrifice me for the sake of me?
I don't hate you for the sake of me
I want to drown in the wound you gave me
Turn back to me for the sake of me

Cherish my demise, Cherish my demise

We turned back to each other
to hang on a slim thread
Breath into me when
i lie awake in bed

stay for a while- enjoy me dying
i would lie for the fall
making no sound at all

Go away and dress your soul
with the lies you sell under the open sky

Don't i sacrifice me for the sake of me?
I don't hate you for the sake of me
I want to drown in the wound you gave me
Turn back to me for the sake of me

Cherish my demise, Cherish my demise