Me Myself and Irony

Hey everyone... huhuhuhuhuhiiiiii..... (one of those innane stupid smiles, lost look on the face, when you are sort of pushed on the stage to just "deliver" damnit).... After much procastrination...on my part that is. Not many know of this, but this page is being ogled at blankly for almost 15 dyas now...The impetus, was it? Anyways, I am here and now I am going to recite a poem by....(with puerile stupidity...) ok cut the drumroll...This is my space people, my refuge, my haven, the space where I can curl up, hide myself, just shoot without afterthoughts, no plagues, no ghosts, what I say, is what I say.... Pretty definitive... Whatever! I have got this "whatever" responses to not so whatever things that go around me, fortunately I keep the company and am graced by the presence of such really "special" people, you know, and you might be one of them, if you are reading this, and of course I have to know you... And yes, what I look forward to through this regresisve attempt ... Nothing. Period.

My persiflage may go around the world or die down at this moment, its there when I have a proverbial pain-in-the-ass... It happens people, it just happens, I know I should have turned to it long ago, instead of those scripts that are locked away in some 200 something floor of some multinational bank within the secure confines of a laser sheilded locker double locked with simultaneous key activation.... Thats one part of me...which can rant endlessly, the other part holds me back and says that stupidity travels faster than light, you may look wise unless you provide vestiges of your illustrous mind.

And then I got to know my third part. This part doesnt do anything. It stayes silent, but expresses. It doesnt suggest, it surmises. It observes. Progmostically laugh off the other two parts of mine. Probably, provide me with the third party, the pragmatic bastard in me, which aides gives me unemotional decisiveness... Its the most undershadowed when on a high of any emotion, its something that is with accompanies, yet not beside me, which makes me one, an entity, in a crowd of millions. Its that face in the mirror that makes faces at you, its that lawyer who answers the answers you want to hear and then smirk on your haughty chivalry. Its a cylinder, hard walled with brute sensebilty and cornered by stark sarcasm and canny criticism, and I am that motorcyclist ( I dont know how to ride motorcycles, and to those who I have bluffed, can... well go to hell!) that is drearily circling its walls, and that thing that stings, the sting is that a cylinder has got infinite corners, the edge of the circle, is my treadmill... the path which I am finding an end to, but this third part is there which makes me realise... "Go man! increase yor speed, this is not a road, its a satanical loop, a viscious cycle, go faster, climb the vertical walls of self doubt, and once u flail in the air, get to see the sun... ( Right now I am making faces like Trinity did in Matrix Revolutions when her spaceship tears the clouds into the clear sky...her sky, screw Neo, yeah i love Carrie Anne Moss !)

Each day, there is a confabulation, a fervent endavour, to get 'it' right, and the endavor is to find the 'it', the 'it' is a destination, or maybe the jouney itself. I dont car to know... I dont even want to beleive, Hell, I want to Live. Live Alive.

Sounding like a Gautanamo Bay inmate... Well not really, i wear a smile on my face through the day, constantly in argument with this third part of mine. Am i looking 'real'? Well sometimes I am really happy, I mean momentary, an ephemeral shower of satisfaction. It may be sparked off by just about anything...

Till it sparks...
Till moment lasts...
Till u start... To get bored...

I'll take your leave.... and perhaps mine too, for the day...