This is funny. I've actually been staring at the screen for a whole five minutes. There are random strings of words blinking in my head but I don't know how to bring them down to some sort of sensible sentence. So maybe I'll talk about imagination.

That's right. The cliched topic, "imagination". But I'm not going to get into the whole "Imagination is a wonderful gift us human beings have been given. Oh the beauty of it! It lets us release our creativity-!" All that is crap. I mean sure, imagination! Yay! And all that jazz but what I was wondering today was exactly how do we picture things in our head? Even with my eyes open, right now I can imagine a cow with a basket of flowers, prancing in a green meadow. It's like a picture in front of me: detailed, precise. But it's like there's a transparent sheet and I can still see the computer screen. I thought we see with our eyes. So how do we manage this? I'm sure there's a whole load of science behind it.

Ah, now it's raining in the meadow. The poor cow. She's cowering under her pink umbrella now. She? I'm not sure. I don't want to freak her out by looking down there. She's already not too happy at the moment.

And there's another thing to this whole "picturing it in your head": We all picture it differently. That makes sense. Sense without proper reason, but still, sense.

Reason. There always has to be "reason" in the world. It gets annoying after a point. Why do we really need reason? No I won't get into that. There'll be a lot of psychological factors to it. Or will there? Reasoning makes things precise. Or am I blabbering here? I think I'm getting a little confused.

[Voices in my head: a LITTLE?
Me : Yeah ok. Shut up. You're not even supposed to be there.
Voices in my head: Is that our fault?
Me : *sigh*]

I don't get people who come online and keep their status as "busy" but are still always online. I mean, if you're so busy why even come online in the first place? It's alright being busy for like half an hour maybe. But for a long stretch of hours? And the same people, when appearing as busy, will still talk to you online. Unless it has something to do with the fact that if you're "busy" then the annoying doorbell kind of sound doesn't come every time someone says something. Well, whatever. Each to his/her own.

I just love the whole "do I look like a guy with a plan?" dialogue in The Dark Knight. The script is so well done.

"Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I'm a...a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it, you know? I just...do things. The mob has plans, cops have plans. Gordon's got plans. You know, they're schemers...schemers trying to control their little worlds. I'm not a schemer. I try to show the schemers how pathetic their attempts to control things really are. So, when i say tha- come here, when I say that you and your girlfriend was nothing personal, you know that I'm telling the truth... It's the schemers that put you where you are. You were a schemer. You had plans and, uh, look where that got you.

I just did what I do best. I took your little plan and it turned it on itself. Look what I did to this city with a few drums of gas and a couple of bullets. Hm? You know what- you know what I noticed? Nobody panics when things go "according to plan". Even if the plan is horrifying! If tomorrow I told the press that like a gangbanger will get shot or a... truckload of soldiers will be blown up, nobody panics...because it's all a part of the plan. But when I say one little old mayor will die? Well then everybody loses their minds!! Introduce a little anarchy, upset the established order and everything becomes chaos. I am an agent of chaos. Oh and you know the thing about chaos?... It's fair."

Pumpkins

"7 simple rules for a life in hiding:

1) Never trust a cop in a raincoat...
2) Beware of enthusiasm and of love. Both are temporary and quick to sway.
3) When asked if you care about the world's problems, look deep in the eyes of he who asks. He will not ask you again.
4) Never give your real name.
5) If ever told to look at yourself...never look.
6) Never say or do anything the person in front of you can not understand.
7) Never create anything. It will be misinterpreted. It will chain you and follow you for the rest of your life."

- From the movie, "I'm Not There"

Life in hiding must be fun for a little while. There'll be a quietness of your preference. No need to pretend you care about certain things. No need to pick up phone calls. No need to keep up with your social circles. You have your space and time with things.

And I guess you begin to appreciate certain things. Like having people around you at times. Like actually wanting phone calls...even or especially in the middle of the night. Sometimes it feels good being wanted. Sometimes you want to keep up with your social circles. Sometimes it gets lonely brooding in your own imagination. Sometimes not having your own space is what keeps you alive.

I suppose ultimately it all depends on the person. You could be the complete version of an anti-social. But I'm sure even the most anti-social people need company at times. The point of this post? Who knows! I just haven't written in a while.

Speaking of anti-socials, there's the category who aren't actually anti-social but are pretty social and outgoing and are at every party but then in a sudden instant of time, they're sitting in the corner of a room, dwelling in their darkness or whatever you want to call it. This breed of anti-social/social people? They can be divided into the genuine and the wannabe. Just like the actual human race. Now there are sub-divisions. It's the wannabe who need to realise just how pathetic their attempts are.

"...pathetic their attempts are"... I've been watching Dark Knight way too many times. ["I show the schemers just how pathetic their attempts to control things really are" - The Joker]

Speaking of Dark Knight (I know this is way of topic...was there even a topic?): I think the one word that defines it is: revolutionary. No one has said they haven't liked it. At least, as far as I know. I'm not going to give a movie review or anything because I know that whatever I say, people would have already thought of. And it's not like people really care about my opinion. God knows why I wrote a review-type-thing for "I'm Not There".

Well, alright, I've lost the will to write anymore. This has been a strange-ish post but it's easier being pointless. Ta!

Tee Hee

I read the news today, oh boy.
About a lucky man who made the grave.
And though the news was rather sad,
well I just had to laugh.
A Day In The Life - The Beatles

You have to love that verse. Anyway, sadism. Ah, what true pleasure mixed with cynicism (Right spelling?) Sickening, yes. Sadism I mean, not spelling. You know, like when someone breaks their leg and is lying on the ground clutching their leg, out of which the bone is protruding and a whole load of blood is spurting out, and there you stand, laughing your ass off. But I suppose that falls under...(I'll make categories here)..."hardcore sadists". Does that term even work? You know what? Pfft.

Yeah, so hardcore sadists. Those are the really sadistic ones. There are those of us who are, uh, mediocre sadists. The type who would laugh at the above incident only after it's happened, when someone's explaining it to you, however sad they are about it. Try it out, kids. The narrator's expression is priceless.

Yes, we should all be brought up as sadists. There'll be more laughing. I mean as mediocre sadists. Less to cry about in the world.

Don't even get me started on the pronunciation of 'sadist' and 'sadistic'. ... Actually, don't stop me. (Here, I feel the need to say 'ssssssssomebody ssstop me!' but that just wouldn't fit into context.)

Sadist:
1. Say-dist. (Which is what I say. Not that it matters to you, whoever you are. If it does matter to you, get help.)

2. Sad-ist. 'Sad' as in "the monkey was sad."
And this pronunciation...well, I won't judge. If you pronounce it like this, I shall just hope you are a nice person.

Sadistic:
1. Suh-distic. (Again, my way.)

2. Say-distic (Well, I won't complain. It makes sense that you think it's this since sadist is pronounced that way... you know, in my opinion and hopefully yours.)

3. Sad-istic. (Refer to point no.2 under "Sadist")

And those were my musings. I am thanking you for your time, dear gentlemen and gentle-ladies.

Like A Rolling Stone

Directed by Todd Haynes, this is a movie that, in my opinion, isn't just for Bob Dylan fans. It's a strange kind of movie but keeps you pretty much glued to the screen. It revolves around six people's lives, all different stories. Yet, somewhere, suddenly some two stories will connect. But it isn't one story at a time. They happen simultaneously, which proved to be just a little confusing.

Alright, let me contradict myself a little bit here: The movie would probably be better understood by Bob Dylan fans than, well, non-Bob Dylan fans. For instance, Julian Moore's role reminded me a little of Janis Joplin. Whether that was the intention or not, it did.

As far as actors go, the one that stands out incredibly is Cate Blanchette. Not only was she playing Bob Dylan, but I thought she did a better impersonation than the other five. Marcus Carl Franklin put up a pretty astonishing performance. Ben Wishaw came every now and then but he certainly caught my eye (and not just because he's good looking). Christian Bale was brilliant too. I hope with all my heart that it WAS him singing because his voice exists to fall in love with. Heath Ledger was interesting and acted well but there wasn't too much to make of it. [RIP, Heath.]

Towards the end of the movie, though, somehow I didn't understand Richard Gere's role too much. Maybe I wasn't paying attention.

The music was, obviously, perfect. (It being Bob Dylan, what can go wrong?)

Overall, I'd give it four stars and a recommendation.

Dribble

I was 'updating my profile' and you know those questions they ask you which you can keep changing? Well, there was one which went "Quick! The children want to hear the story of the bald frog with the wig!" or something along those lines. There I was thinking "What an oppertunity!" but my answer exceeded the 400 character limit. Or was it 400 words? No i don't think so. This is computerized shit. So here goes:

Once upon a time (in mexico.. ha ha), there was this frog. He croaked away in bingle bog (sound familiar to my fellow cbse slaves?). Ok but seriously, this frog was like the coolest animal around. He used to wear a load of bling. Oh and he had a mohawk that all the other animals kept ogling at.

One day, he went on a date with this "totally hawt" iguana. They were sitting near a spring and talking happily when suddenly it started raining!! (dun dun dunnnn!)

"Don't you worry, iguana dear!" said the frog, "My mohawk can shield us both!" Little did he know that the rain water was shrinking his mohawk.

"Oh. My. God," the iguana said in horror, "Your mohawk...it's...shrinking??" In a few seconds, the frog was bald.

"Iguana, dearest, I must confess.." sighed the frog, "My hair is fake. I'm actually 82 years old. I had plastic surgery done."

"UGH!" screamed the iguana, whipping the old frog with her tail and storming off.

The frog sat down and glared up at the suddenly dark, sky. "Is this my fate? Will I never be able to do it again?" [DO-AH?! ... I can't BELIEVE I actually did that...]

Thunder and lightning struck! The frog cowered in fright. He waited for about five minutes for something to happen.

"You mean all that build up was for nothing?!" the frog yelled irritably at the sky.

"Dude, did you not like see me when I jumped out of the clouds?" said a voice. The frog turned around in surprise. There stood an Ibex in all his glory, wearing cool purple sunglasses and millions of hippie chains around his neck.

"Wh...Wha..Who..?" dithered the frog, feeling confused.

"Dude!!!" said the Ibex, grinning as he stressed on the 'u' in 'dude'.

"But," the frog said, slightly irritated, "You're supposed to be God like! Not some junkie!"

"Hey!" the Ibex said, offended, "I am totally not a junkie! And, dude, I AM God. You're just expecting all that whiteness and purity. You just have to feel the love."

"Right," the frog muttered.

"So you want some hair, dude?"

"That would be nice, thank you."

"What kind of style?"

"Just like my old mohawk."

"But mohawks were so yesterday, dude!"

"Then what's the in thing that the kids wear now?"

"Faux Hawks are in, man!"

"Well, ok."

The Ibex took out one of his million chains by lowering his head. He ate one of the beads.

"Is this like witchcraft?" the frog asked, in awe.

"Huh? Oh! No dude, I just like the way they taste."

Then the Ibex stared hard at the frog's bald head. There was a clap of lightning and the next thing the frog knew, his hair had the coolest look about it. The Ibex was gone.

So the old, creepy frog lived a happy life. (The few years he had left anyway.)

The End.

thank you for putting up with a complete waste of post. :)

"Reacting To An Imaginary Stimulus"

Ugh. I hate starting posts. I always blank out and I'm always trying to be witty about it or something of that sort. Well, screw it. I'm going to be boring. I ruined this beginning and quite happily. (I just might be in a bitter mood. Live with it, please. Yes, the please was added as forced, extended courtesy.)

When you're a kid (and here, I mean like 6 to 8 years old. I still consider myself a kid.) and you're playing "housie housie", you 'act', right? But here, acting is just pretending. Hence the term "pretend games" came about in Indian youth.

But, when you're older and if you're an actor, you have actual methods to 'develop character'. I find it pretty amusing, because at the end of the day, you're just doing the same thing, only you've become something of a perfectionist. (And that isn't the kind of perfectionist I'm talking about in my previous post). There are all these nooks and crannies that you need to work out, like the character's walk, his/her past, blah.

On top of all this, there are different methods to work about your character. There's the famous "getting into the skin of your character", which just makes me laugh so hard (no offence meant to the people who adopt this method). And then there's the method where acting is nothing but playing your objective. I'm sure there's a lot more.

I realised that I don't have any method. I just don't believe in the "getting into the skin of your character" thing. Because, think about it, if you 'became' the character.. Supposing you were Juliet, would you actually die on stage? I mean, you ARE the character. Sure, that would bring about so much of the essence of the whole play.. But I doubt one would believe in their character that strongly. Plus, the audience could get traumatized for life seeing someone die like that. Not the best way to get good reviews.

Anyway, sure, I build up a history for the character and then play it honestly. But that's about it. Would that make me less of an actor? I hope not.

Inside The Actor's Studio With Johnny Depp:
JL - James Lipton
JD - (Who do you think, genius) Johnny Depp.

JL: We begin our classroom with the questionaire...Johnny, what's your favourite word?

JD: Why.

JL: *pause* *smiles* Didn't it sound appropriate to you? Did to me. What is your least faourite word?

JD: No.

JL: What turns you on?

JD: Breathing.

JL: What turns you off?

JD: ...Not breathing. *grin*

JL: What sound or noise do you love?

JD: My daughter's voice.

JL: What sound or noise do you hate?

JD: Vacuum cleaner.

JL: What is your favourite curse word?

JD: ...Boy...This is a real opportunity here...

JL: Yes it is. *smiles*

JD: I don't want to mess this up... I think the most expressive..would be "shit". Yeah, shit works a lot.

JL: What profession, other than yours, would you like to attempt?

JD: Writing, I think..Writing.

JL: What profession would you absolutely not like to try?

JD: President of the United States.

JL: Johnny, if heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?

JD:... "Wow."

JL: I think he would be joined by a choir of angels in that.

(Sorry for the "*"s. It had to be said!)

Square Or Circle?

Square. No doubt about it. Circles are way too uniform in my opinion. I require imperfection. Perfectionists amuse me so. Why would you want things perfect? Wouldn't your life become something of a walk in the park? That's nice and all. But I'd rather run through an obstacle course, because honestly, I love being strange and I love everything that revolves, ducks and slides around and through it.

Raindrops are spherical but don't you draw them from a point bulging out? Thank you, gravity. Raindrops are now, in my opinion, prettier. The world is round. But not perfectly so. Wouldn't it be terrible if all land was flat without a single bump, let alone mountains and plateaus?

[When you're finished with the mop then you can stop
And look at what you've done
The plateau's clean, no dirt to be seen
And the work, it was fun.

Plateau - Meat Puppets (Nirvana did a cover where Kurt Cobain sang and the Meat Puppets played guitar)]

We require friction in life, don't we? That wouldn't even exist if things were perfect - in this case, ground and whatnot.

So I'm going to end this weird post with one conclusion: My room can be as messy as it likes to be. Rather, as I'd like it to be.

Transporto Unico

Double-Decker buses. I have to say, whoever came up with the concept must've been bored. But hey, we all love sitting on the top, with the cool breeze against our faces. That is only if you don't live in Chennai, where saying the breeze is warm would be one big understatement. Let's not forget the ever awaited pollution, traffic, (and for the girls-) creepy men watching and the simple beauty of fecal matter thanks to dogs, crows and pigeons...maybe even humans. Heck, why only Chennai? There are plenty more places. I'm just not too happy with our current weather situation. I'm dying. Literally. My brain cells (the few I have) are burning out. You know, if that's possible.

But double-Decker's are fun. No, they are! I've been on one once in Germany and I loved it. Except in the one picture my parents took of the "cute 7 year old I was", I'm digging my nose. That's right, digging my nose.

Back to the topic: Double-Decker's are good for touring places, especially when the weather's good. Yup, one can look over the city and have everyone and everything in the city look right back. Don't ask me why that's a good thing. I don't have an answer. Just take a camera, a cap, a drink and ride on a Double-Decker. That's pretty much made your day satisfying.

Oh, what I'd do to go on a Triple-Decker! That must be something. That shall be my new ambition.


"Life is an open road"
Open Road - Bryan Adams.

(Sorry but I still haven't heard a song about a Double-Decker bus! There should be. Really, there should.)

I Feel Bitchy, Oh So Bitchy

This term, "bitching" amuses me. It's a commonly used term. It's a commonly done thing too. I haven't been to one sleepover where we haven't bitched. It's oddly satisfying. With all probability, this is because we'd rather fault out other people's bad characteristics than give a rat's ass about our own. Or is that just me?

But why prevent yourself from bitching? It makes you happier. As long as you're not throwing your mouth off about someone too much. You need a regular dosage of bitching. Yes, daily dosages required would be:

->Bitching
->Flirting
->Self Pity
->Guilty pleasures (Whatever comes to your head when you read/hear that phrase.)
->... Uh. Can't recall. When I do, I'll jot it down.

So, back to bitching. I'm guessing, and I hope I'm right, that the it's called 'bitching' because the people we're talking about, in our opinion, are bitches. Either that, or we're acting like bitches and ranting on about other poor souls. It's fun to analyse!

I've always wondered, do guys bitch more than girls? It's possible. Maybe more in their heads than anything else. But hey, it's still bitching. Right? Or does bitching have to be public? Bitching is bitching wherever, right?

[No. of times I've used the word 'bitching' so far: 10. or 11 (including the latest one)]

Me: I think this has been an interesting post...Right?
VIMH (Voices In My Head): Keep telling yourself that, darling.
Me: Shut up, what do you know?
VIMH: A hell lot more than you.
Me: Well, I think this was a nice post.
VIMH: Honey, you've been talking about bitching. You counted the number of times you said it in the post. You're bored as hell and just trying to make yourself happier.
Me: Well...Oh, go away.
VIMH: Can't. See, you keep typing out what I'm telling you.
Me: Ok, that is truly freaky.
VIMH: Well then stop.
Me: OK, I will!
.........
VIMH: Can't do it can you?
Me: Stop sniggering.
VIMH: You're the one sniggering, remember? I'm you. You're me. Blah.
Me: I..*bursts into tears*

"Would you maybe
Come dancing with me?
'Cause, to me, it doesn't matter
If your hopes and dreams are shattered"

[Oasis - Girl In The Dirty Shirt]