The human mind is the worst piece of creation ever. Think about it, would you buy a laptop if it shuts down or starts playing crappy music according to its own fancies? You own a body. Yours  that is. Do whatever you want to do with it, its yours anyways. Problem lies with the mind. If things go your way, your mind is the most obedient slave that you could ever have. Obliging you at every possible instant. The second it starts fucking up, damn, you're your own prey.

I've been listening to a lot of blues lately. I've had enough of alt rock. Grown out of it i guess. Someone told me Blues is defined as- A good man in bad times. Maybe its this line that made me such a sucker of it. Or maybe cause I love a clean guitar tone. Getting back to where I had started, the human mind. I've read a bit of Freud here and there. I don't see what exactly he tried to do with his in depth studies. He would have done a better job studying the male penis i guess. However there is this one epic quote I came across- Every man is a hero, in his dreams. Only if, dreams were under control, the humankind would have been a far happier lot I guess. I don't understand, what is the point of owning something, having it as a part of your being, which actually you have no control on. Falling prey to the outside world is okay. Its a battle in the end. Everyday is one. But falling prey to one's own self? Now that is sucky. Maybe someday I will have the answers. God willing, the day i do, I'll post it here but thing is, the day I will have the answers, I will be having no use of the knowledge. I'd already have made all the mistakes i could.

Even then, if You ever wonder the things I do, you will find the answers here. It may take a good few decades or a good bottle of whiskey, but the answer will definitely be here. Until then...Cheers..

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The storm has subsided. The waves have stopped crashing on the shores. The clouds have cleared. What lays in open view is a seemingly calm village with pretty looking exteriors. But the destruction is evident if you care to stop and see. Behind the laughter of every playful child is the wail of a scared mother. Too scared to let her child play. Too scared to let the kid out in the open. Cause innocence is lost in this village. Gone are the days when a smile was a smile and not a cover up for the jarred yesterday.

The gaping hollows remind the folk of the yesterdays that used to be. When she was there. When the sun used to shine with her singing out loud. In tune was she? Nobody knows. Nobody cared to judge. She was their blessing. She taught the town to laugh. To look at the exquisite beauty that laps up a scary wave as the others backed up for safety. She waived her skirt and danced to the tune of nature's fury.

They called her Blessing. They lived to her tune. Danced to her songs. Drunk to her joy. Cause grief, there was none. They were happy and so was Blessing till that very day.

The day that swept their pretty little life as far as the sea could. Blessing was gone. Too far away to even know the village was gutted. They hoped. They cried. They prayed. Innocence was gone. Swept as far as the sea could take. The children have learnt to smile again. A cover up, as they say, to keep the jarred yesterday at bay. Cause Innocence was gone.