When desire runs
Pondering over our tribulationsMuggers, Buggers, and Tree Huggers
And now for something completely different.
[Dramatic music plays in tandem with a montage of pictures]
BEYOND THE HEDGE – News over the top.
Female Presenter: Welcome back. Now we move onto our weekly special segment; ‘Muggers, Buggers, and Tree huggers’.
[Cut into an advertisement]
Deep, sexy male voice: The start of ‘Muggers, Buggers, and tree huggers’ is brought to you by: Lose some stress, have some of the best – Golden Cup Blend. [Video sequence of Kumar Sangakkara thoroughly enjoying a piping hot cuppa Golden Cup followed by the trademark smile]
[Ominous music plays]
MUGGERS, BUGGERS, AND TREE HUGGERS
Male Presenter: After our last segment on the effect of human flatulence on daffodils, tulips and hydrangeas, toady we are going to talk about something completely different; a group of ingenious individuals who are deployed around inconspicuous areas of Colombo to swindle, cheat, and steal your money, and in some cases, your dignity as well. [Camera cuts into a different angle] Beyond the hedge takes a look into a little known, reprehensible, sickeningly deceitful, but positively fantastic group of slick crooks that we would like to call: ‘The Alms Giving Operation’.
[Video of Colombo plays]
Deep, sexy male voice over: ‘A land like no other’. The Board of Tourism of Sri Lanka should be given credit for inventing a religious catch phrase to market the island nation. It is attractive, catchy, and contrary to many marketing gimmicks; completely honest. Colombo is the quintessential South Asian cosmopolitan city where you see a montage of sights ranging from the ultra rich driving around in Ferrari’s and Hummer’s on roads with potholes big enough to accommodate Indian outsourcing companies, to the thick headed wannabe rap stars complete with bandana’s, bling, All-Stars, and sub-machine guns. It has a montage of colorful people from the smartest educators and the brightest talent to males who worship Mariah Carey and think Steven Segal is god’s gift to Hollywood. ‘A land like no other’.
[Camera cuts into a different angle]
Amongst the many things Colombo is, it is also the center for many a scrupulous, scheming mind, that will come up with the most inventive and imaginative methods to rob people of their money and possessions. Gone are the days where burglars broke into houses and stripped you off your Jewelry, DVD Players, and Tommy Hilfiger underwear. This is the age of the criminal marketer, the age of brain over brawn in crime; the guy who systematically cons you with a smile on his face and a pat on your tush. Much has been said about the instigators of this trend; The Sri Lankan Government, so Beyond the Hedge will deviate from that to focus on a scheme that seems to be in its initial stages. We believe it is something that every law abiding Sri Lankan should be aware of.
[Camera cuts into a different angle]
We would like to name this group of ingenious criminals with something original. The name ‘Sri Lanka Freedom Party’ was taken and the name ‘Mervyn Silva Foundation for Free Media’ didn’t sound right, neither was it remotely connected. So we decided to coin them with the name; ‘The Alms Giving Operation’. One might ask why the name ‘The Alms Giving Operation’. It is simply because this gang of crooks will come to you in the guise of someone unassuming and cheat you off your life if they wanted to. Beyond the Hedge spoke to a couple of people who were at the receiving end of this scam.
[Cut into an interview scene in the middle of a remotely crowded street where a person who looks like a government worker is being interviewed by Beyond the Hedge]
Interviewee: These guys aren’t your everyday criminals. They are a syndicate of organized crime, minus the violence of course. Because I’ve got to tell you, I wasn’t even touched the six times I got robbed. The most unlikely person will come and ask you for some money… In near PERFECT English too! And he’ll say that he’s out of cash and he needs to go to Kandy or Negombo or someplace and that he doesn’t have money. He’ll coolly push you to give about 60-70 Rupees and bugger off.
Interviewer: Sir you can’t use words like that…
Interviewee: Like what?
Interviewer: The ‘B’ word… We’re on Sri Lankan national television no… They don’t even show a cigarette being lit.
Interviewee: Ah OK OK… Sorry ah…
Interviewer: It’s OK. For my next question, how did you notice that this was some kind of scheme?
Interviewee: I got robbed six times didn’t I?
Interviewer: And where did you say you work for?
Interviewee: I work at the United National Party office in Kotte.
Interviewer: Probably explains why you didn’t notice you were being robbed under your very nose…
Interviewee: Hey! Are you trying to be funny with me?!? Ade, don’t say anything to the UNP ah! SB aiyata kiyala thoge kunu….
[Cut into a video of the suburbs of Colombo]
Deep, sexy male voice over: Their cover as stranded travelers is not their only guise. ‘The Alms Giving Operation’ has more of these robbers, with many more devious plans, under their cloak of deceit and trickery. The more experienced and talented recruits probably advance to a more skilled stage after their rookie days. And these are the thieves that everyone should keep an eye out for. Beyond the Hedge spoke to a person who will enlighten us with the incident that involved one of these ‘expert conscripts’.
[Cut into an interview scene in a quiet, park like environment]
Interviewee: I’m telling you, these guys are experts. Real experts ah… I went for a Rugger match one day and just as I entered the complex, this guy comes up to me and cries out; “Machaaan! How are you?” in Sinhala… I was kinda confused because I couldn’t recall where I had seen this guy before. And I have this knack for remembering faces also. So, he goes onto ask me about how my father and mother had been and stuff and it was as if he had known me since I came out of my mother’s… You know… Thing… And I didn’t know what to do, so I was playing along, and being the Sri Lankan I am, I didn’t want to even ask him… You know, who the hell he was… And so, this guy then tells me (in Sinhala): “Machan, maara scene no, I couldn’t tell you… My father died last week! Maara upset scene machan. It happened so fast, I’m sorry I couldn’t even tell your father also. My mother’s also full upset machan, she’s not doing so good. And tomorrow, I have to organize the 7th day Pirith and I’m kind of stuck for cash… Kolla, is it possible for you to give me some cash?”
And I was like, really hesitant you know… And I told him that I didn’t have cash, which was obviously a lie… But he was like: “Machan, fit eke, please, give me some cash” and I told him I didn’t have change, and he was like: “Ah OK… I’ll change and give it to you as soon as I get back. I’ll give you a ring when I’m back here again…” And he made off with 500 bucks of mine! I havn’t been suckered like this EVER!
Interviewer: So didn’t you notice that this person was trying to take your money?
Interviewee: Not at all! He was so damn convincing! He’d make a super actor!
Interviewer: Didn’t you figure out that you hadn’t ever seen this person before?
Interviewee: NO! He was sooooo convincing. Plus you tend to get very paranoid when you’re tripping you know… Oh, I forgot to mention that! Heh! I was kinda blitzed at the time. Ganja makes you…..
[Cut into the Male Presenter of Muggers, Buggers, and Tree Huggers]
Male Presenter: Violence is escalating, and by what we’ve seen now, so is theft. It is about time that the Sri Lankan people show some awareness to this theft that is happening under our very noses. What’s more, it is imperative that we nip ploys like this in the bud before we move onto tackling greater theft like those carried out by rouges like Kotelawela, Sakvithi, and the Governemnt. That concludes our episode of Muggers, Buggers, and Tree Huggers for this week. In next week’s segment, we will be taking an in-depth look into the link of Homosexual bodybuilders to male colon distortions. We hope you are now more aware, informed and ready to face the world tomorrow. Until we meet again.
[Cut into an advertisement]
Deep, sexy female voice over: The end of ‘Muggers, Buggers, and Tree Huggers’ was brought to you by: Building you dreams – Paranaloka Construction Company [Video sequence of Kumar Sangakkara in a construction helmet, putting the final touches to a construction followed a thumbs-up and the trademark smile]
Deluge
Writer’s block is harsh. What’s harsher is when you have something in your mind but simply cannot put it into words. I’m going through a deluge of emotions that I am finding hard to comprehend. Many of these thoughts are austere, cynical, convoluted, and challenges the very foundations of everything that we believe in.
I’m going through a series of realizations that have made me think; WHY? Why… So many things…
It will take some time, but sooner or later I will be able to document all these opinions, ideas, questions, and realizations. Profound shit.
Freedom from ourselves
http://dinidudealwis.com/?p=775
http://bombaimotai.wordpress.com/2009/03/05/dear-diary/
After reading the above posts by Dinindu de Alwis and Bombaimotai (Osh’s blog), I couldn’t help but notice the tone that both of them had in common. It exuded a tone of affection towards our nation, it emanated a quality of exasperation towards the injustices done to our country, and it radiated with a sense of deep rooted connection towards mother Lanka.
Which makes me think…
Will that pure intention and zeal ever see the light of day? Will it one day surface to shine on and release us from our bonds of corruption, lethargy, and futility? Will it shine on and bring an end to the darkness created by greed and prejudice that haunts our nation to this very day? Will it overcome the lure and temptation of power and wealth to rejuvenate this paradise that has been laid to waste?
Had Percy Mahinda Rajapakse endured and overcome the obstacles that have persistently indoctrinated the pure of mind and pure at heart, I believe that Sri Lanka would have been a better place.
Will there ever be a person who could ascend to the totem of power and use that power to deliver us from this quagmire we have put ourselves into? Even if there was a person who had the purest intention of selflessly serving the nation, what would the probability be of this person prevailing over the vices and depravity that is ingrained in our system? I am no pessimist, but I would say that the odds of the system prevailing over the pure at heart would have the final say. I’m not saying that it cannot be done. I’m just saying that it will take more than one person to rescue Sri Lanka from itself and its culture.
We have been traveling in a downward spiral ever since the day independence was gifted to us. Why is it that countries such as India and China continue to make strides in national development? Well for a start, they both fought for their independence. They broke away from the bonds of their oppressors through revolution and untainted love for something they believed in. We unfortunately were just given independence in a pretty little box with a shiny ribbon wrapped around it. And like other pretty little gifts with ribbons; once opened, it starts to lose its sentimental value and significance over time.
We are never proud of something that is truly ours. We mock our talent, ideas, and inventions and embrace something alien. We’re childish and immature enough to ridicule those who cannot properly express themselves in English. We’re gullible enough to believe and trust what anyone in power says for granted. We piss on our own jurisdiction and decrees. We’re fucking lazy! We have more public holidays than any other country in the world. We have sunk so deep into the mire of bribery and corruption, the light of day remains only as a memory. It is a pathetic state. And those who actually could do something to help Sri Lanka break away from this predicament lose hope looking at our disaster of a system and fly to foreign lands to seek happiness and prosperity for themselves and their progeny.
Even the fiercest patriots have succumbed to the delusion of power and wealth. Take a look at the once staunch critics of the government such as Wimal Weerawansa and Hemakumara Nanayakkara. They traded their voices and beliefs for worthless paper and a miniature throne. They were lured in by the call of the sirens of corruption on their way to the Promised Land of freedom and purity. Who or what are they now? Take a look at the so called ‘venerable monks’ who tarnished the name of the whole fraternity of Buddhist monks for a seat at the parliament and the luxury of a Mercedes Benz in exchange for their alms bowl and purity of mind. This system is powerful enough to attract those who will try to use it to their advantage and discourage and obscure those who are trying to expose it. And the ever gullible people of Sri Lanka STILL believe these bastards even after they’ve exposed their crooked selves. The Sri Lankan people are still following the carrot that keeps on luring them from one predicament to another.
It won’t be long until everyone bends to the will of a greater power. We are systematically being manipulated by the influences of nations that will soon acquire us like just another commodity, we’re unknowingly being bound and gagged into a space where freedom of speech and expression is nothing but urban legend, our political system has turned into the most successful get-rich-quick scheme in the country, and we are being manipulated into being people who can be commanded at the flick of a switch. Sooner or later, Sri Lanka would be transformed into an obscure little dot on the globe where it’ll actually become the pretty little satellite of India that everyone in the world thinks we are.
But how do we emancipate ourselves from where we are now?
I don’t know. I don’t think I could do it alone, and I don’t think you could either. I wish for a day where I see more of us out there, more of us trying to break away from these bonds that limit our words and curb our minds, more of us to reach out to the light from the darkness of the present, more of us to say no to the easy way out, and more of us to speak as one and condemn ourselves for riding on the wave of delusion and impurity.
Where and how do we move away from the predicament of now?
I guess we’ll only find out when we put all like minded people who are pure of heart, pure of reason, and pure of mind together and resist this ugly creature that is corruption, power, and greed; to gain freedom from ourselves. And only then will we be able to call ourselves true Sri Lankans.
Goodbye
And I shed yet again.
I shed this skin, these eyes, and this voice.
I say goodbye to yet another obsession that was close to my heart. This isn’t the first time. And this won’t be the last. But it has been one of the toughest to cope with.
Never again will I step back into that life. Never again will I see through those eyes and feel with that heart. Never again will I lament in song or sway to the same beat.
It’s all over.
And now I put that all in a box; never to be used again. I won’t step back into that same skin again, but I will remember it whenever I’m looking for inspiration, whenever I’m looking for encouragement, and whenever I’m looking for hope.
I am at a loss for words………..
Thank you to everyone at Hamlet at Elsie’s Bar.
Thank you for the laughs, the warmth, the love, the friendship, and the memories.
It was a pleasure.
Cheers!
Perilous theater
The Kodak Theater. Everything was set.
I exhaust myself running around in confusion, trying to figure out the pathways to the the dressing room and the corridoors to the stage. I’m feverish. Excitement or stress? My palms are covered in a dripping film of sweat.
Shit.
I suddenly realize that I’m all alone. In a dimly lit corridoor all by myself. Sweat on my palms, and sweat on my palms while I’m alone? For a moment I’m amused that I’m not shitting bricks. This doesn’t look good at all. And to add to the pressure, I hear the chatter of the crowd ever so lightly making its way to my ears through the little cracks and pipes. If I can hear the crowd here it must be one heck of a crowd. It would make a full house at the Lionel Wendt look like little rabbit droppings. And it hits me again…….
Damn. this place is huge.
As I muse on by myself about the enormity of the place, I wonder why the insides of the Kodak theater resemble the interior of a dark and musty industrial factory. Steam popping out of little vents in pipes, creaking floorboards, and the occasional rat scurrying along to a hole it calls home.
Then I hear the first bell.
WHAT? First bell? I’m not even ready yet! I have quite a costume to sink myself into and I haven’t even started! And the first bell is going off! I run to the nearest staircase. It’s a weird staircase with Oak bannisters that have lost its sheen and aged velvet carpets adorning its steps. I climb the staircase furiously, part of me angry at myself for being so careless and losing track of time, and the other part; afraid of being the culprit in a part of a crime that is failure.
I finally find my way to the dressing room after running through a huge maze and quickly change into my elaboarate costume. The second bell goes off just as I start putting on my boots. My goddamn boots. They ALWAYS give me problems. Now I slap myself on the forehead for never taking the time to adjust them. Lazy lazy lazy! And I hear the third bell go off as I struggle to put on my second boot. Confound it! I’m running!
And I run through another maze with a partially hanging boot on my right foot…
And after a frantic search I make my way to the wings of the stage. In a silent moment of relived introspection, I thank my lucky stars (I don’t belive in god) that there’s a couple of minutes more for my entrance. I work myself up and characterize like I’ve never characterized before. I feel the piercing focus of each member of the audience watching what is unfolding on stage. Time to enter. And enter I did with the exuberance of the wildest mustang. All attention was on me. And it’s time to deliver my first line. An answer to a question of the guy I’m supposed to be interacting with. With a smile on his face, he fires the first question at me.
What the fuck? What the hell was THAT?
No. That wasn’t my line. I didn’t blurt it out either. I swear I was so vexed that the sweat just jumped out of me like the water would do in a fountain. My knees turned into jelly in tandem with the unfamiliar transformation of the music. What the hell was happening? Everything around me lights up to see a set I’ve never seen before. I’m looking around in bewilderment as familiar faces stare back at me waiting for my line. I’m a mess. A mess in the spotlight. I hear prompts. I hear prompts of lines I’ve never heard before. I put together a couple of words and make a sentence that barely makes any sense or any noise. The other people take it as their cue for the next move and start swirling around me.
Shit. I think I’m supposed to do something.
I take a brief look at the audience only to see them staring at the inanimate object that is in the center of stage: Me. I didn’t know what to do. I was in a state of confusion that could have driven me wild. Why did this have to happen to me, I lamented as the orchestration reached its crescendo after some blank spaces of pure instrumentation. I think I was supposed to sing there. I was helpless. Like a deer stuck in the headlight, I didn’t know what to do. I was caught in a perpetual freeze with tears running down my face. A retarded actor in a big, shiny get up. From the distance I hear a bellowing cry of STOP! The director stands up in the audience. He makes his way to the stage in the beautifully tailored suit he custom made to impress his crowd of luminaries.
He comes up to me.
“What THE F…….”
He is interrupted by a shrill ringing noise.
Fourth bell?!?
Alarm. Theater nightmare. Sigh of relief.
Doubt
Imagine yourself in a dark room, where the light of day is just a memory, where the darkness is blacker than the sinister nothingness of a black hole. But from the distance you see lights. There’s one to your left and one to your right. You feel the presence of two people. Two people you can’t see or smell. You only hear their words. They each try to cajole you into coming with them. One paints a picture of a perfect world where perfect people live in perfect harmony. The other tells you one of a damaged one where you will have to pull your own weight to live. The first is more desirable, the second is not. The first is too good to be true, the second sounds like a bitter dose of reality.
Who will you go with?
As I write, I’m in a peculiar little alcove in my mind that I have never visited before. In this little alcove resides a sinister creature called doubt. No, it’s not the doubt that we meet and feed everyday.
This is the master of that doubt and all the insignificant little specks of doubt in my mind.
This is the doubt which questions my very existence in this world. This is the doubt that would make someone question every little thing that he held dear. This is the doubt which makes you think that you, independent as you are, are being controlled by a greater power that isn’t any god. This is the doubt of all doubts.
After watching the documentary; ‘Zeitgeist’, I’m coming to terms with bitterness of reality. My choice of going to the damaged world wasn’t an arbitrary one. I’ve always fancied the truth over illusion. It was more like a decision made after verifying some incorrigible doubts that were glued in a little corner in my mind.
I was always bemused by the proclamations of religion. I always respected their views, however farcical they sounded. But it didn’t erase the fact that these decrees sounded very impractical and ludicrous. I’m no atheist, but I never could believe the people who thought that all of mankind descended from Adam and Eve. I could never come to terms with the idea of utopia, or heaven, and the pits of hell. I could never imagine a god who could take away the people who you love and still love you with all his might. Almost all the major scriptures promise eternal pleasure for those who enter the kingdom of heaven. Likewise sinners are condemned to the infernal chasms of hell where they will suffer the wrath of the devil incarnate. After watching Zeitgeist, my doubts faced plausible fact. Plausible fact won.
My doubts were more or less cleared.
It was only after watching Zeitgeist that I realized that the little alcove of doubt in my mind was the only thing that wasn’t corrupted by what the people in power wants us to think. This sinister creature was the only part in my mind that questioned the validity of what we hear and see on the TV, radio, and newspapers. Most of us implicitly believe everything that is said in the papers or TV. Why? We trust these media to make us laugh; make us cry, and show us a jolly good time don’t we? Then why not trust the news and views the tube and all other media dispense? I guess it’s a natural flaw of humankind that has now evolved into a characteristic, a flaw that started off as a submission to an invented religion that has now come to a dismal stage where we will all be enslaved by those who wield authority. Our credulity will soon make us slaves of the people who use the tools of religion and media to manipulate us into submission without even knowing it.
It’s kinda like the Matrix, only; this isn’t a movie.
The truth is harsh. It’s very hard to take in because it will shatter the bubble you have been residing in for the entirety of your life. Once you open your eyes to the world and come out of that bubble, you will realize that all the wars that we fight for and all the terror that we condemn is actually a little piece of a puzzle that we think to be a part of fate. It is not. It’s in fact a part of greater scheme to enslave humanity in a false sense of security and trust. It’s the embodiment of the machinations of a very human devil that cannot be defeated unless we open our eyes to the truth. It’s a scheme that will make us all helpless puppets on the strings of an unknown overlord.
I probably sound like one of those conspiracy theorists. I’m sure I do. But the fact of the matter is that I’m disgusted at the authority that controls us. And I’m not just disgusted for any reason. I’m disgusted at the reality that they will keep on brainwashing us with their media, with their education system, and with their religion and lull us into a place where we think is safe. Should you think that I’m some sort of deranged misanthropic nutcase, I don’t blame you. I don’t have any facts in this post to convince you to believe my opinions. Had I put in all the facts, I would have been typing to the end of my very existence. Yes. You heard me right. There are so many facts that will dispute the validity so called ‘trusted authorities’ we place our confidence in.
If you feel like coming out of your bubble, if you feel like you’re being controlled by religion, media, and politics; I urge you to watch Zeitgeist, a movie that will give you the bitter dose of reality that we so desperately need.
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”- Jimmy Hendrix
The Jingy Bingy Man
I usually am an annoyance when I’m truly inspired. I go from person to person proclaiming whatever it was I experienced should be experienced by everyone. I’m a bit loony like that. People probably make jokes behind my back for that, but what the hell, I try to make this world a better place. Or at least introduce them to something TASTEFUL. 
Thanks to the blogosphere I can now share my enthusiasm (and sarcasm) with the World and cut down on the unwanted labor involved in going from person to person. Textbook internet benefit.
Recently, I was raving on about ‘Machan’; an absolutely brilliant film based on a true story of a group of Sri Lankans that illegally migrated to Europe under the ingenious guise of a handball team. Today, four months later, I have something else to rave about.
It was just after the conclusion of the opening night of Hamlet at Elsie’s Bar. The brilliant performance by the cast made me break my vow of not smoking up for the day. Damn it! I wish I was on stage too! The air raid on Colombo that took place a few hours before we made it to the studio seemed to matter very little because we were going to celebrate the success of opening night and talk about stuff that would make us sound quite outlandish.
The herb was really good. 
Buddhima was going crazy with the papers and was rolling some big ones that could be easily mistaken for shotgun mikes. We would soon find out that rolling torpedoes was one of his less significant talents. And after some unbounded fits of laughter and mundane stories, we went into the studio to chill out to the suave tune of Ranil’s Takamine guitar but were pleasantly surprised to see Buddhima join in on the jam as well. And inside the studio illuminated by that eerie neon light, we went on a musical journey that transcended the very essence of original Sri Lankan music.
Buddhi and Ranil started off with a hauntingly brilliant rendition of House of the rising sun. The crisp tone of the new strings coupled with the layered harmonies of the 12 string Yamaha guitar complimented Budhima’s robust voice. I opened my eyes after that song and smiled. I just smiled. It’s the smile that appears on your face when your mind gives two thumbs up for satisfaction. The audience of 5 burst out into applause, giving the impression of an actual unplugged concert. In my intoxicated state I was visualizing myself on the set of something similar to that of the MTV Nirvana unplugged gig. It was brilliant. I was in a happy place.
And just when you thought things couldn’t get any better, Buddhima took the liberty of knocking our socks off with three of his original compositions. The name of his first song escapes my memory, but what a song it was. This was the first time I was hearing this and I was blown away. It wasn’t the technical intricacy of the song; there wasn’t anything intricate about it. It was simple music laced with honest words that were rooted deep in the heart of a brilliant man; Buddhi. It pored over the tribulations of a forthright man who enjoyed life the way it was; unfair yet beautiful. And after listening to the rest of his English-Sinhala compositions, I felt proud. Proud to know a guy like him. Those words stirred me to the point that I hugged him right after he finished playing his band’s song; Jingy Bingy Blues. I couldn’t keep my excitement to myself. I don’t think anyone in the studio could. That lead us to the question; What the hell was Buddhi doing all this time? His words are monumental. A throwback to the era of folk music where injustice was spat on and the beauty of everyday life was appreciated. I felt myself in the presence of the next Bob Marley, Rage Against the Machine, or Bob Dylan. Such was the vividness of those words. It made me proud as a Sri Lankan to hear those songs. I was proud that we; Sri Lanka; a country polluted with prejudices and corruption still have people like Buddhi; people who could see the unfairness of life, take it as it is and enjoy our breif stay in this world as well as we could in the face of all those adversities.
It was a great day for me. I was stirred by the simple yet beautiful music. I felt the power of words that I never thought I’d hear in a Sri Lankan song. It was beautiful. I’m still taking all of that in. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that a cynic like myself would be stirred by words that were simple yet momentous.
The sad thing is that no authority in the right mind would let this material go out to the public unless they want a state of free thinking and ouspoken constituents. The thought itself would turn the gleaming smiles of our crooked politicos into grisly grimaces. But I envision Buddhi being one of the cult icons of our generations. That is the effect that his words had on me. I never thought I’d find inspiration so close to me. Martin Luther King Jr., Barack Obama, Richard Branson, and Maynard James Keenan have been the only people who have fostered a change in me.
I’m proud to add Buddhima de Mel of Wagon Park to that list.
A very peculiar two months
I don’t believe in superstitions. But give me your opinion. Do you think being in the loo on the dawn of the new year is a bad start for the year to come?
If it is, I think I screwed myself over right royally.
What was I doing when everyone else were watching the fireworks set off on that beautiful beach in Hikkaduwa and were tripping to a techno version of Auld Lang Syne? Yeah, if you deducted correct, you’d find out that I was taking a piss… In my defense, it really was a very gratifying piss. 
And you might wonder why I started this post off with the story of my inauspicious leak, but for some reason, I feel that weird start kicked off a very weird year. Almost two months have elapsed in 2009, and I feel very weird. I don’t know why. I feel melancholy, cheerful, pleased, and dissatisfied at the same time. It’s a total emotional overload that probably is a consequence of the transition from the teen years to adulthood. Or it’s probably one of those phases you go through while trying to decide on what to do with your life. I still don’t know.
I’ve messed up these two months in many ways; starting with the fact that I’m sitting around at home, doing nothing with my life while hoping that all my university stuff works out. I’m procrastinating on the little things that might make a difference as I type in these words. I could well be in the gym, doing some cardio or pumping some iron. I could be in CIM class, trying to earn a qualification while waiting for the university stuff to work out. I could be looking for a job for goodness sake!!! But here I am, at home, typing. I’ve been getting high way more than I want, piling on the pounds (in Sri Lanka’s case; Kilos) and I messed up an exam that I studied for close to 4 months, with the purest intention and greatest commitment that I could muster, and I’m losing all those great skills that I learned as a prefect in college. I NEED TO DO SOMETHING!!!
But, on the other hand, there have been some real gems that have made me think that these 2 months weren’t all that bad.
Hamlet at Elsie’s Bar! I hate musicals, but for some reason, I’m becoming more attached to this production every passing day. I guess it’s the people in this play that has made these rather lousy 2 months tolerable. I met people from the super high to the super eccentric, from crazy to reserved, from popular to obscure, and from talented to inspiring. It has been the sugar in the tea, the sunlight in the day for me. I’ve made so many friends that I hope, will last me a lifetime.
Come to think of it, I think that’s the only [Significant] good thing I have to write about. Of course, I haven’t included the crazy new ways I’ve learned to trip on herb…
But I guess, it’s too early to judge whether or not that ill timed leak had a bearing on the year. I’m definitely going to set myself straight and return to be the proactive, boisterous and opinionated person I was after the play is done with. And I have some things to look forward to as well. Come April and I’ll find out whether I’m Georgetown University material or not. If not, I guess I’ll have to settle with Northeastern or Dickinson and work my way to Georgetown. But one thing is for sure, I’m going to do my utmost to make sure that this year is going to be the compensation for the time I lost during the tenure of Prefectship and move on with life.
And a word of thanks to Natty and Brandon who (kinda) inspired me to start blogging!
Hello world!
Welcome all to my blog! I’ll be blogging away once I actually find something blog-worthy to blog about…
