Snatches of Senselessness

“Feel”, ‘she’ tells me. “Don’t stop. Just feel.” And then suddenly I do. “Write it down”, she says. But it’s happening too fast to capture. And then the beats of ‘Star Guitar’ ensnare my feelings. ‘You should feel what I feel.’ ’You should take what I take.’ But thoughts and feelings and what’s up for grabs are never what others mean them to be. My mind races, doing Mach 5 in a Mach 1 zone. Is it really my mind racing? The lights are fast. There’s stamping. Paper dragons fly. A boom is sonic. Where did the bald guy come from? The lights are bright. Are things racing by me? A black coat cloaks a woman, hiding her, making a mystery out of this being with short hair.
That’s it. The feeling’s gone. The sound dies. The feelings are replaced. The chatter resumes. But Meatloaf objects to the resumption of chatter. ‘She’ is pushed to the outer spectrum of the frame. Chatter stops. And as objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are; the feelings converge again.
An idyllic farm house looms up. A vintage car is being driven. Two brothers move into the frame. With dreams unfulfilled and time to make them exist. For some reason; inexplicable, a black belt appears closer. Why a belt? Why black? But the mirror doesn’t allow me to dwell on these thoughts as it reflects racing soldiers of fortune. And then, dreams that crash and burn. I know what comes next and I want to stop his pain. But fate’s more flamboyant relative; destiny, implodes the silver lining in the mirror. His anguish is channeled into the thudding of his feet through the fields to catch a glimpse of a face in the sky.
My thoughts congregate in the mirror. Distorting all feelings to form the eyes of Meatloaf through the glass. And he shows me why ‘she’ forces me to feel and not to think. To live and not to exist. But another superimposition occurs. Her body is like a bandage. And mine, just like a wound. Has the rubber met the road?

Pas a Pas se va luènh

zahir to inSAMniac

Treasures aren't always meant to be kept under lock and key, in as much as the world needs to know it exists for it to be a treasure. Whether it is but a whisper in the hallowed portals of time or a murmur in the ears of sleepy children or a shout in the corridors of history...
You are a treasure unto yourself, when you are loved...for just the fact that you are loved, whether it is by some unknown force or known entity...u are loved…and that makes you the greatest ever...


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Pas a Pas se va luènh

This one's for you Skipper

GARTH BROOKS

"The River"

You know a dream is like a river
Ever changin' as it flows
And a dreamer's just a vessel
That must follow where it goes
Trying to learn from what's behind you
And never knowing what's in store
Makes each day a constant battle
Just to stay between the shores...and

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

Too many times we stand aside
And let the waters slip away
'Til what we put off 'til tomorrow
Has now become today
So don't you sit upon the shoreline
And say you're satisfied
Choose to chance the rapids
And dare to dance the tide...yes

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

There's bound to be rough waters
And I know I'll take some falls
But with the good Lord as my captain
I can make it through them all...yes

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

Yes, I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
'Til the river runs dry


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Pas a Pas se va luènh

Porsche - Gone with the wind!

You can feel the pulse of the pavement racing like a runaway horse. The subways are steaming and the skin of the street is gleaming with sweat. You see it like a summer dream and it’s the answer to every prayer that you’ve ever said. From the stables of Stuttgart, it sashays in, representing a heritage that combines the doable with the seemingly impossible. Elegant in both form and function, it is a powerful name with performance to match. It is Porsche.
Sporting a complex system of aerodynamics and the simplest of ergonomics, Porsche defines the meaning of automotive styling and technology, having achieved so much, that it represents far more than just an unmistakable trade name. Generic takes on an all new meaning, when a flooded sports car market, still brings to mind, on recall, one name – Porsche! Simplicity worn with grace is elegance and no one wears it better than them! The brand thus embodies the epitome of sporty driving and thinking.
Designed to bring the thrill of the racetrack to the road, it also moves from the road to the racetrack with the ease of a river flowing into the sea.
In today’s world of conspicuous consumption, India is no exception in the usage of foreign goods. Especially German ones. From a pin to a pencil; from an eraser to a stapler; from a punch to a pen; from an idea to a dream; from a status to a symbol. Beyond the front pages, German goods are a reality that touches our lives in ways most of us never stop to think about. But then again German cars are something few will remember to forget, because quintessential is not a word that will ever come to mind when thinking of a Porsche.
The joust for hegemony of the sports car market is the stuff of legend, but the outcome will be shaped less by intrigue than the raw facts. It is apparently beyond the limits of journalistic restraint to tell the story of one of the most legendary and dynamic car companies in the world - Porsche, as anything but a breathless spy thriller! The tale begins in 1900 with the Lohner-Porsche Electric Car at the Paris Expo and takes off under the direction of Ferry Porsche, on June 8, 1948 when the first sports car bearing the name Porsche was born: the 356 Roadster. It then warns that the diplomatic intrigue continues with their journey and foray towards becoming the world wide synonym for sports cars. Porsche relishes its role as David amongst the Goliaths in this world. The tale is no less true for being so well worn, but now there is something truly new to say. It’s too early to declare the game over. After years of loop holed wrangling, the Great Game is starting to yield clear international and corporate winners. From originality to emotion, from concept to reality, the chapters of this present continuous tale go on. Every book has its own opening lines. Some good, some not so. This tale had a fantastic opening which it will always be remembered for – Tradition is compelling! Porsche is a living tradition and if its name carries a commitment, so do the values it embodies. As the chapters of this book unfold, people sit up and realise there is more to the tale than just the words P-O-R-S-C-H-E!
Get ready for a white knuckled adventure where you will need more than just your survival skills. Keep your eyes on the road. Carry plenty of water for the ride, because you’ll find yourself thirsting for more than just a spin in the sun. So don't look for road signs, tour guides or a steady pace. It won't happen that way. Because you’ve moved out of the frying pan and into the fire.


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Pas a Pas se va luènh

Pathetic Fallacy

Maybe it was chance, or its more flamboyant relative destiny...but I laughed too and the mingle and tinkle of blood, rain and laughter- of emotional pain, tears and its subsequent release, brought solace to a storm that cannot be calmed... whose calm lies only in its rage...
If the weather were a mirror of my emotions, it would be a true picture and not just the perception of a viewer. For after all a mirror doesn’t lie. It only shows you what’s in front of it. The distortion lies with the viewer.
My umbrella broke today in the wind and the spoke went into my wrist! (For details refer to www.insamniac-worldwithoutend.blogspot.com) Laughter was all that bubbled up between Sam and I.
The man dressing my hand, asked me if I wouldn’t scream while he cleaned the wound. I laughed some more. Pain! An elusive concept to me. Yet I felt it. Somewhere in the dim recesses of my unconscious…that numbing emotional pain…forcing me to acknowledge that I am human, I need to cry and want that special someone holding me tight, wiping away the unnecessary tears. I backed down. There was no way I was ready to deal with that pain at that moment.
I smiled and laughed a lot more. Laughter. Helps to deal with so much. My body shakes with it on the outside and quivers on the inside with a different sort of defence mechanism.
The wind howls. The rain pours. The storm rages. The calm lies in the rage. It lies within me. It is me.


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Pas a Pas se va luènh