Turbulent tranquility : insidious debauchery

There were three of them in that room. All of them were silent. All of them were staring at him. He knew none of them. He was nervous because he wanted to succeed where everyone else had failed. He was young but he had strong dreams. He wanted to be the pioneer, the one who would reach the breaking point in this situation a situation that had confused and caused failure in everyone else, even those greater and more learned than him.

“It ends too quickly for some, and too late for others; it takes too long for us to learn what we need to learn, and by the time we have, everything is messed up!” The first to speak was a soft spoken woman, probably in her early thirties, and he immediately named her Juliana in his mind. That was bad, he must have thought of a way to keep the voices disguised too. But it was too late for that now.

“There’s no turning back. You can’t change anything!” He felt like he liked her. That was bad too. He shouldn’t have felt that.

“The worst thing is human nature. Our inability to feel satisfaction with anything, our starvation for power and our natural instincts to lie, kick, scream, manipulate and kill. Deep inside, we are all animals.” The second one had a voice like broken glass. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old. Carri, he thought. Such a sunny, cheery name but such a broken voice. He felt an odd longing to put his arms around her, hug her and hold her tight and safe, a tug in his heart that he couldn’t control. The third bad sign. He wondered if he should stop, but something, perhaps his vanity made him continue. So sure he was of his control. Until the last one spoke.

The last one to speak had a voice that was indescribable. He couldn’t even begin to fathom the age of the speaker, lest the gender, the mood. It had the slight tenor of masculinity, wrapped in sonorous femininity that was regular in both the dazzling slightly androgynous men and fervently sultry women. It was utterly and completely blank, characterless, void of both emotion and expression. And yet, in his mind, he was sure it was a woman.

He was at a complete loss of what to call her.

“The worst thing about life… is that we can’t choose how it begins. We are thrust out of the womb of a stranger whom we grow to love, because she thrust us out. We are thrust into a society we grow up in. We are thrust into religions, into a bunch of beliefs that we are told are right. We cannot choose, not how we are born, not where we are born, not whom we are born to. And if the beginning of life itself is soiled, is predestined, how can we be content with anything that follows?”

Her words weren’t any more powerful or true than anything else spoken by the preceding two, who were suddenly so utterly unimportant. But the absolute truth that rang in her voice was so distinctive that he felt his heart break and he asked himself, why cannot he choose his birth? It was his life, but this very first, very important right has never been his.

He wanted to worship this Goddess sitting before him. This Goddess with the powerful voice. He wanted to see her face, kiss her palms and lie weeping at her feet. She deserved no less, he was sure.

“You see, this… unnecessary control I have over you people is what got me here in the first place,” There was laughter in her voice. He felt good because she was laughing. Everything was right.

“Goddess…” He whispered.

“You think so?” She asked, her voice going throaty, sultry, full of sparkling feminine wiles. “What would you do for me then, good sir?”

“Anything. Anything you desire in your heart, my Goddess!” He gasped out because he longed, oh how he longed to touch her, to feel her silky skin.

“You think I am a Goddess?” She asked.

“In every aspect of the word!” He replied breathlessly, hoping to please her with his pretty words. Pleased enough to smile at him, show him her face and enchanting smile.

“Then build me a Heaven to reside in!” She laughed again. He fell sobbing at her feet, unable to touch her through the thick glass, and felt his heart break at that inability as he cried out ‘Yes, yes, with every breath in my body, yes, I will build you a heaven my Goddess!’

To be continued…?

PMS

Sunday, January 27th, 2008 | Blog | 8 Comments

Did you know that close to 14% of women between the ages of 20 and 35 become so affected by PMS that they have to stay at home?

I’m sitting at work, feeling my mood fall and rise and twist and turn like an overzealous salsa dancer. Hormones… they’re running in excess around my body today. Sometimes I’m thinking that I want to write a long rambling post about my life… something I haven’t done for the past two years… and other times, I want to delete this entire sordid disemboguement. And then I think maybe I should go out and and have a hard black coffee with blueberry cheesecake.

…………………………………..

But for the record, PMS is real. It’s not just something that the Women’s Super Secret Underground Organization of Super Secret Stuff (that all guys suspect is there but none can prove) fabricated so as to justify a sudden feminine urge to scream, cry, grumble maliciously and eat two gallons of rocky road (note : ^.^ yum!!).

Apart from the PMS thing, I am fairly content with my life and don’t have anything important to complain about as of now.

I suppose that makes me the weirdest girl on the Maldivian blogosphere =(

Social Profiling

Saturday, January 19th, 2008 | Blog | 6 Comments

I found a rather depressing quiz today that classified all women into three very specific groups. Those who are shy, those who don’t care, and those who are snobby. It was an insult to women every where. I don’t understand people’s fascination with it. (By it I mean personality quizzes and horoscopes) I enjoy quizzes as much as the next person, but yesterday, when I actually saw that quiz, it occurred to me that we humans have an uncanny obsession with hearing other people talking about us. Yes, inside, almost everyone wishes for the whole world to revolve around them! No one likes to admit it, it’s the human tendency to deny personal vanity when asked in the face, but while you’re reading this, deep down inside, you know it’s true!

Horoscope is also the exact same thing. I know I am a zodiac fan too, but it does occur to me from time to time how absolutely silly all of it is. The formation of the stars cannot authenticate who we are. That is settled, scientifically, first, by our chromosomes, and then, the rest of our personalities are shaped by our upbringing and the society around us. What does stars have to do with it? But still, we love reading the horoscopes, and by doing that, we, in a way, become hypocrites. If a person is a Leo, they’re labeled as bossy and self-involved, if a person is a Scorpio, they’re labeled as sadistic and cynical, and if a person is a Sagittarius, they’re labeled as not serious and airy. Isn’t it the same as the hypocritical labeling that the entire world is giving Muslims as blood-thirsty terrorists?

Okay, okay, you’re right. It may not be exactly the same thing, but it’s in the same line, isn’t it? It may not be as drastic, but it’s similar all the same.

There are many people in this world who also have a tendency that I like to call the ‘Read and Believe Syndrome’. Yes, I do make up my own words and diseases.

A person suffering from this condition believes so much in what they read in these personality quizzes and zodiac fore-telling, that they actually begin acting out these predictions. They, unconsciously, make them come true. And then, of cause their belief is hardened even more. What they don’t understand is that when they read these so-called predictions, their mind, unconsciously links this to any event that may even remotely be connected to the topic, and forces it to make sense. Why? Most of the time, only because you want to believe it bad enough that you’re mind has no choice but to come up with a logical explanation to prove it. And sometimes, the coincidental incidents they come up with are amended to suite the purpose, or simply made up entirely!

This is yet another example of how humans are obsessed with themselves…. when will we ever learn?

…

Tuesday, August 28th, 2007 | Blog | 2 Comments

I feel like doing something stupid

Cool ways to kill yourself!

Sunday, August 19th, 2007 | Funny | 4 Comments

Life Got You Down?

If you’ve been a little depressed lately and have contemplated partaking in the bliss of death, here are a couple of cool ways to kill yourself. Even if you don’t use these exclusive royalty-free methods, remember to do it as creatively as possible. Don’t be boring and just take sleeping pills — go out with style and flare.
All these methods require some planning but don’t let that dissuade you. Your life must be pretty pathetic if you’re killing yourself. Why not leave a legacy?

Explosives Strapped to Your Body
Difficulty level: 7

Get a LOT of explosives. The more the better.
Hook up a detonator to an altimeter. Set it for 100-200 feet. That will give you good dispersion.
Mix vaseline and gasoline in a bucket.
Find a really tall building. Something like the World Trade Center (not anymore, but you get the idea) is perfect and is in a sufficiently crowded area to generate the proper sized crowd.
Get an extra large trench coat, ski mask, duct tape and a lighter.
Bring your materials to the top of your building. Liberally apply the vaseline-gasoline mixture to your entire body. Duct tape the explosives around your legs, arms, head and torso. The more explosives you use, the better. Attach the altimeter to the explosives.
Put on the trench coat and mask so that the explosives are not visible.
Start ranting and throwing things so that you are sure to attract notice. Drag this part out as long as possible. Say anything that comes to mind but try to stay away from real problems. Your love life DOES NOT make for a good sound bite. Ask for news cameras from the major networks. Pace around a lot while waving your arms.
DO NOT let on that you have explosives on your body. The police will clear the area and you definitely don’t want that.
When you’ve gotten the crowd to a fevered pitch, when the helicopters are hovering like vultures, whip off the jacket and set yourself on fire.
Wait until you are completely engulfed in flame then jump.
Try to steer yourself towards the crowd. That way flaming falling body parts will pelt the fleeing onlookers when you explode.
Congratulations! You’ve just made history.

Falling through Chain Saws
Difficulty level: 10

This is much more difficult to pull off. Instead of explosives, the money shot is you falling though three or four operating chain saws. You do not need as high a building for this — anything above three stories will do. Remember to use the vaseline-gasoline mixture. That’s the ingredient that adds pizzazz.

Bullet in Your Head
Difficulty level: 1

HAMMER a bullet into your skull. Make sure there is an empty gun nearby but do not fire it (a gun that has never been fired works best in this situation). Bash the bullet into your frontal lobe. It doesn’t matter how you get it done it will perplex the authorities for years and you will, most assuredly, be a hot news topic. Hell, you want fame in death to rival the obscurity you had in life don’t you?

Death by Hairball
Difficulty level: 3

Get a cat or a dog and brush it every day. Save the hair until you have a giant hairball. Plug up your nose then shove the hairball into your mouth.
Leave a cryptic note about how you believe little Fluffy or Rover was planning to kill you in your sleep.

Meat Grinder
Difficulty level: 11

Find a sausage making company that has a giant meat grinder. Set up a hidden video camera to tape your death. Leave a will with explicit instructions that it not be read until one year after the night of your grinding. In it, detail the way you died and the location of the hidden camera.
Sneak in at night naked and turn on the video camera. Climb into the grinder and take massive amounts of pills of your choice. Make sure it is enough to kill you.
In the morning you will be ground up and made into sausages. One year later your will, will be read to the news media and people all around the nation will vomit simultaneously.

Chop Your Own Head Off While Standing Next to a Major World Leader

Difficulty level: 5

1. Ingratiate yourself with your chosen mark. Get his/her/its confidence. Become a trusted member of the inner circle.
2. Sew a hand ax into a coat or jacket so that it is easily removable but not particularly visible.
3. Make a statement. Video tape is preferable because the TV news shows love visuals. The more visual material they have the better. The next best thing would be audio tape. It won’t hold an audience as well but at least it can be played under the video of your death. Never write a letter. No one reads anymore. No one will care. Make sure your message will be easily found on your corpse.
4. On the day of a major rally, with hundreds or thousands of attendees and lots of television cameras, wear the coat with the hand ax attached.
5. Send backup copies of your message to as many news outlets as you can on the appointed day.
6. Stand in the background as you remove the ax from the coat. When you are finished move slowly toward your dignitary.
7. As the event reaches its climax, whip out the ax and chop off your own head. If possible try to run around like a chicken. Make sure to get as much blood on the famous person as possible. Aim well. That will be the image that gets the news coverage.
8. Bask in your glorious death. You’ve made the supreme sacrifice to save the world and have ended the torment that was your existence.

S&M, anyone?

Tuesday, August 14th, 2007 | Blog | 8 Comments

Today, after a brief conversation with a friend of mine, I realized that not everyone gets what S&M is all about. I mean, I have to admit, whipped cream and handcuffs sound pretty good to me too, but that isn’t S&M. S&M is about one person [the top] hurting the other [the bottom] and both of them getting off on it. In my opinion, sex can pretty much be anything [check under disappointing/ho-hum/spectacular] but NOT pain.

I want to write a long ranting post about this but to tell you the truth, I’m no expert on S&M techniques [although, I could tell you about cat-o-nine tails and bdsm equipment but that would take ten years off your life, I’d prefer not to]. Go Google if you’re interested.

My point being, people seriously need to learn to distinguish between kinky fantasies and the hardcore stuff.

Let me give you an example here:

You imagine taking a scarf and tying a girl to a bed with her hands above her head. She’s totally naked, the place is lighted up with candles, you’re licking melted chocolate off her nipples and she’s screaming and writhing and moaning under you, asking you to screw her brains out but you just slowly tease her with your tongue, loving the control…

I’ll stop here. That’s a fantasy right there, with a little kinky bondage thrown in. THAT ISN’T S&M.

Now imagine this:

The same situation, same atmosphere, except, instead of the chocolate, imagine that you are slowly dripping candle wax onto her body, and you’re enjoying the screams of pained pleasure, it’s giving you such a kick that you put the flame even closer to her body so that the dried wax on her skin starts to bubble and melt again…

You get my drift? There’s a difference.

I seriously should stop now. I could go on like this forever. Y’all please be careful when you ask people about whether they’re into S&M. Chances are you might end up in bed with someone who seriously likes this stuff while you don’t.

And on that cheerful note, I shall take my leave. Cheers.

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