sing when you're drinking

It's been ages since I last posted; more than a week constitutes ages in blogland, I reckon. Just didn't have the mood, the drive, the mental capacity to write anything beyond the darkest shade of black. Which would have bored most of you, I'm sure. Oh no, not another morose post, I would have heard you sigh. So does that mean I'm in a better mood now? Hmm, by the merest iota of difference, yes.

Some credit has to go to the Famous Grouse. Yes, that scotch bird who looks out furtively over every bar shelf. And it's not a bad drink, by any means. One of the more under-rated drinks, if there ever was one. Whether with soda, coke or ginger ale, it goes down relatively smoothly. Then again, after five shots, everything goes down smoothly.

I wouldn't say I've fallen off the wagon, but I'd say I've missed getting sloshed and having my brain cells die in the rushing flood that is booze. And momentarily submerging all the demons in the swirling mixture of malt and barley and rye and God knows what else. The fact that sobriety is constrained to the day is even more liberating, for some convoluted reason.

So yeah, only time will tell how long the drunken debauchery will last, but while it's alive and kicking, then all I can say is "kampai".

Here's a completely random piece of text; a verse from The Smiths. Can't find the video for the song, though.

Loved and lost
And some may say
When usually it’s nothing
Surely you’re happy
It should be this way ?
I said "no"
And then I shot myself
So, drink, drink, drink
And be ill tonight

one-two combo

I am calm.

Surprisingly so.No more confusion, no more drama.

Everything's been forcibly put in perspective. Which is what should have been done in the first place. There is no one else to blame, no circumstances to bemoan. There's just me.

Time to grow up. Time to grow out of this cocoon of debility that I've allowed to wrap me in. Time to stamp out the little imps creating mischief in my brain. Time to bring the misplaced affectivities under control. Time for action.

But above all, time for a cigarette.

i like girls, they like me

I just realised, I've been listening to two songs over and over and over again for the past two hours. Yeah, they're catchy and bouncy and danceable and all that, but still...

Weirdo alert!

On top of that, I spent another two hours people-watching down at Starbucks, black, white, Puerto Rican, Chinese etc. Some sort of a pseudo-spacing out session. I hardly touched the magazines I'd greedily plucked off the rack; was too engrossed looking at people, and through them, to some far away corner where I re-examined all my schemes and plans. I lie, there was just one. Yeah, yeah, yawn yawn, blah, blah.

TGI Friday, huh? Nothing more than another round of cigarettes, loud music, sardine cans and aching muscles. But you know what, there's really nothing else to kill time with once the sun sets. A movie; yet again? Stay in; right. So we scour the night, revelling in the cover of the dark. I think clubbing on a Friday night given; the only variables are the venue, and the crowd. Make that 'company', two and three and all that.

You know what, sometimes it's difficult to see where tantrums end, and realisation begins. Like, seriously. So at this moment in time, am I throwing a tantrum, or am I wisening up? My problem is I often oscillate between the two, at the wrong moments. I'm oblivious to being taken for granted when it's blatantly happens, yet I'm petulant when there is no slight. That's more one ingredient to the boiling pot which is my confused state of mind. I inevitably get annoyed with beings who remain confused for long periods of time, so I guess I'm displaying a small degree of favouritism towards myself. Just a small degree, mind you.

And guess what, there is no such remedy as 'just chill'. Who 'just chills'? No one that I know of. Everyone says it, but come on, honestly? Unless one has a fatalistic approach to life and surrenders everything to fate or destiny or such, I reckon there's a reason for horns on the bull.

So enjoy the weekend, get laid, get drunk, dance till you drop. Yeah, whatever.