Of Grownup Stuff, Customer Service & Language Barriers.

Life Lesson #270: The ID number is the long one, and you read Arabic numbers from left to right, not the other way around, even tho the latter makes more sense.

Life Lesson #271: You don’t ask customer service which number is the ID number or the direction of reading Arabic numbers.

Life Lesson #272: It’s okay to be the laughing stock of Vodafone customer service. On the bright side, I might have made a very bored dude’s day and propped him up the ‘employee of the month’ chart for going through the drill of simplifying sentences and talking in digits.

Life Lesson #273: On giving the customer service your residential information, you don’t give them the apartment number. Apparently that’s a no-no. I now realize why he was giggling.

Life Lesson #274: Don’t apologize to the customer service representative for being impossible. They get paid for that shit. Muffling your own giggle doesn’t help either, save the self deprecation till after the call or they’ll think you’re coming onto their hairy ape selves. You really, really, REALLY don’t want that. Oh the horror.

Life Lesson #275: When asked why you didn’t call the English customer service, you don’t tell them out-front it’s because they don’t fucking get accents. Not all of them have the sense of humor of the dude I was talking to.

Life Lesson #276: When addressed with Madam, you don’t reply with a screechy ‘I’m 18 for god’s sake!’ They tend to hyperventilate and compulsively reiterate Miss for the next 15 minutes while apologizing their ass off for fear you might report them for sexual advances.

Life Lesson #277: When they explain that the ID number is on the left side of the card, you don’t reply with ‘left being the side the faces the floor, right?’

Life Lesson #278: When asked for two numbers that transfer credit to your line, you don’t elaborate that the only number that transfers credit to yours is your mom’s.

Life Lesson #279: Their coming to the practical conclusion mid-call that you’re too stupid to fill in your complete personal information by forgetting your own payment plan let alone steal a line and consequently stop the process of confirmation is sometimes a good thing, theoretically speaking.

Life Lesson #280: Try not to think about the fact that the call is recorded for ensuring the quality of the call service. It tends to make you feel even more mortified and you might be red in the face for the another 45 minutes, which, by the way, is not the standard call duration average.

Life Lesson #281: Pointing a pen towards the cellphone and screaming ‘Obleviate!’ does not help with that either.

Oh man..Can somebody please shoot me now?

I never knew I’d catch myself saying this, but I truly wish people could choose who they love. This was right sometime, but I don’t believe I know what’s right anymore.

I sometimes hate the fact that I remember numbers. I hate the fact that I think of almost everything in numbers. Because that way, I can remember almost everything. And I can remember almost absolutely nothing.

We’re Gonna Die And Stuff.

So word has it that this comet thingie is gonna be in alignment with the earth and sun and cause a humongous earthquake that’s gonna send us all in tiny little fireworks of our own blood and flesh setting Katy Perry's prophecy true and ‘skyrocketing’ her career into a ‘blockbuster.’

I’m so goddamn happy. :’D We’re all gonna die! That’s so awesome! I threw a huge fit of walking around the house making up scenarios of how I’d like it to end and of the world beyond and my dad now believes I’m officially nuts.

First of all, I want the trumpets to rock and roll, not the boring screechy lullabies, but something more like Tech N9ne meet Schubert with a touch of Axel Rose, and I wanna stage dive at the heavenly gates and the tiny little angels keep bouncing me up and down like a hero, without groping any of my packages, because they’re angels and stuff. And I want an endless supply of Coffee and chocolate, and I get to keep microcosmic clones of the people I like and do all sort of shit to/with them. Nobody sleeps so I won’t get bored and everybody’s everywhere at the same time so there’s not trouble commuting or traffic jams. And they have a 24-hour showing of the last hour as people scream and scurry all over the place and hide under cockroaches thinking they’ll be as protective against comets as they are against nuclear explosions with popcorns that I can eat with both chocolate sauce and ketchup that promise to give me eternal life from the first crunch. I don’t even need 3D glasses because I’ve already lived the 5D experience, and I get an unlimited internet connection and phone credits that will last me lifetimes, literally. I get to have an army that consists of clones of my dad that are just as cute and awesome 24/7. I party everyday, and I get a special sighting of the face of the minister of education as he realizes that I never lived to continue the medieval torture that is sanaweyya 3amma and died at the glorious score of 98%. Everybody is intelligent, because if near death experiences enlighten you then death activates your Einstein spores. I get jetpacks built in to my physique. And speaking about physique, I get to be the tallest and they’d all be short and I’d step on them and remind them everyday of how short they miserably are and will forever be. And I get to meet George Carlin and tell him that he’s my one and only. Erik Satie would compose for me and I get to pick on Debussy for being a bald good-for-nothing lard-ass with all my might. I get to tell everybody how much I love them by haunting the fuck out of them because they’re all dead too and we’d all be running after each other in dimensions but they’d be short so I’d always outrun them and hunt them done and kill them with cupcakes.

GIVE ME ALL YOU GOT! EARTHQUAKE MY ASS! COMET MY SHMOOZLE! BECAUSE I’M AWESOME AND I’M GONNA BE ONE HELL OF A HOT CORPSE! HA!

Of Jumper Cables, Stuff & Stuff That Need Jumper Cables.

It’s one of these days when everything needs to have jumper cables to gear up into a start. The headache is quite tenacious and I can’t quite talk it out of my head so I can get work done and not be screwed. The coffee seems quite adamant not to cool down before I age and my metabolism can’t seem to have enough oomph to get me off the couch and into the shower. Not that any of this is interesting to you, but who cares? As if anybody reads this shit.

Life Lesson #261: ‘If you can’t get it right after that many times, then you’re an idiot. There’s a reason why people’s tongues never get used to the scalding coffee.’ – Dad.

Life Lesson #262: Apparently nightmares don’t go away.

Life Lesson #263: I’m so not a morning person, it’s almost painful, well, not almost. But I have a theory, that if you’re a morning person, then you’re really just a blue collar away from becoming a corporate tool. I’m kidding, I’m just jelly.

Life Lesson #264: Some things in life are just not fair, like the fact that ‘Life of Pi’ runs out of pages at some point.

Life Lesson #265: Cutting people off doesn’t  work because it’s easier to just leave them around and torment them in your time off. It’s fun too. Besides, karma will give you shit for taking away her play dates.

Life Lesson #266: Always update your cheer-upper list. If you have nothing to add to it, then kill yourself.

Life Lesson #267: Ants don’t accept sugar offerings.

Life Lesson #268: Next time you try to free a moth, make sure you don’t accidentally decapitate it with the mug’s ledge.

Life Lesson #269: Love is making someone coffee and not taking a sip.

De-people-toxing.

Of Psyches, Hinduism & Arachnoids.

It has been said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Considering the fact that Hinduism claims that all people share the same ultimate spirit, Atman, and that spirit keeps taking forms in hope of getting liberated by karma’s laws and once more united into Brahman, its reciprocal equivalent soul of the world, that would mean that the whole scheme of existence wouldn’t qualify as mentally sound in the astrophysical superior being’s sheet. On its clipboard, we’d be put away as hopeless cases, experimenting occasional electric shocks that are supposed to put some sense back into us and being kept high on pills to put us out of the terminal misery that is existing in our own heads. Why couldn’t we have been born with the same genetic modification as the Arachno-genesis? That would be the fix to that critical bug in the system; we’d inherit the experience from our ancestors and would still have the ability of choice, being distinctly human. Maybe the creator thought that life is too long and we’d get bored that way? But life isn’t long, at all, it’s frightfully short. Am I the only one who sees this as one sick cosmic joke? Has this thought even occurred to anybody else? Theoretically speaking and statistically applying in light of what I just elaborated; it has. A thousand times before to beings all over the globe. Could the mere bug in our system be the reason we have lives in the first place? To actually try the same thing over and over again, not learn but rather live, enjoy and get fucked over a million times on the way? Would that mean that the ultimate joy people get out of life is ultimately a masochistic pre-mapped built-in train of automated psychological responses? But wouldn’t that also mean that learning is the anomaly? Learning would stop people, because contrary to common belief, the act of experiencing stops when you have experience, ironically worded. What’s the use of repetition if the soul is one, or as some claim, non-existent? If it’s the same, why have its memory formatted at equal phases? If it’s not there, then why bother?

Times Square Can’t Shine As Bright As You

I swear it’s true.

Ode To Dough.

Everything changes but little goes
Less of em fancy mages and more of em sloppy joes
With 10 years worth of wages, a bitch still owes
And debts fill up the pages, every digit shows
You'll rage in paper cages, you're checks'll be your foes
And as the scene engages, receipts'll be your hoes.

And Dream Of Para-Para-Paradise, Every time She Closed Her Eyes.

Everything Is Alright Again. <3

On Stranger Tides: 'Angelica' By Hans Zimmer (Full Song) HD

Gotan Project - Epoca

I've done the imponderable. The one thing that no one should ever subject themselves to; I've read my old diary entries.

Never, ever, under any circumstances, do you read your old journal entries. If there's a gateway to hell, this is the express line to it. Everything is so damn clear right now, it's so clear that i feel i've been blinded. I want to burn the damn thing, i want to burn it with everybody else in it. The only problem is that it's in my head now, has always been, locked away in dungeons and protected in a high fortress with moats. I made sure it was high enough not to let my short self in again, and now i've used the secret passages, and i wish i haven't.

Fuck this.

The Weeknd - High For This

“I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.”

- Banksy

The Ooh.

Something funny happened the other day. I was in physics class, and the teacher was going on about the difference between mechanical and electromagnetic waves in terms of propagation through medium, when it hit me. If sound was electromagnetic, the sun would have made us all go deaf. This can't be a coincidence, can it? Are we that important? How the little things may have been manufactured to preserve our existence, is it divine providence? The irony lies in the fact that physics is doing what religion failed to do, for a split second there, it made me go ooh.

I Really Really Like Necks.

I Believe. Or Not.

I believe in a lot of things i shouldn't and i don't believe in a lot of things i should. I believe that most people in the middle east have not been given the choice of having faith because they grew up with their religious beliefs spoon fed to them as a certainty, nor the chance to change or modify that for fear of social rejection or actual death. I believe that people are assholes, and that it's unusual for people to be good. I believe that people with coffee-complexions and British accents are absolutely irresistible. I believe that shows with terminally ill and dying patients can be enjoyable without you necessarily being a masochist. I believe that everybody has the right to fuck up their own life without any proactive missionary popping out their reformist cherry on their asses. I believe that people have the right to be fucked up in any way they please. And I believe that the only thing that's good about this constitution is that punching people is partially legal, and even if it's not; nobody really gives a fuck because there's no national security in this country and people are safe by sheer boredom of their country's criminals. I believe that gay scenes should not be cut or ewed at, because you fall in love with the person and not the guy, and i believe that coffee is the ultimate liquid happiness. I believe that people are selfish cruel beings and attachment to them in any possible way, emotional or psychological, is a disease that should be tended to. I believe people should read more books that defy the eastern mentality, and maybe even dare to write it without the fear of getting killed. I believe that you have the right to jog without having to hold a pepper spray and look out for people whose sole purpose in life is your hymen. I believe that there are no such things as soul-mates, only people who are compatible and give enough of a fuck about each other to put forward equal amounts of effort into the relationship. I believe that parents should get the fuck out of their kids life instead of destroying it to their niche. I believe that lying is the worst flaw a man can have and i believe that people are sexist bigots if they use the term man for creatures with a penis rather than a loose term for human beings. I believe that nice people are creepy. I believe that there's no such thing as right and wrong as there is what works with who you are and what doesn't, and I believe people should shut up and apologize if they're wrong rather than lead people on. I believe that insecure people are clingy and that stuck up snobs are easier to be friends with since their self esteem issues don't project onto you and are thus relatively more whole. I believe that nobody gives a fuck about anybody and if they do then they're not altruistic, they just have ulterior motives that you're too naive/desperate to see at a given point in time. I believe that most of the stuff that happen only take place in one's head, and i believe chicks are vicious creatures because of that fact and that guys are easier to handle since chicks can have their heads in their pants simultaneously while going on with their lives while guys are more target-oriented and hence more clear-headed when they don't have their head in their pants. I believe that nobody is special and you have tunnel vision if you think you are. I believe genetics affect people more than one might give them credit for and i believe that everybody is going through their own fight, in one way or another, that you might not always know about. I believe that expectations are a stupid prick's version of the make-a-wish foundation for their own ego. I believe that people do more things out of hormonal influence than they might even be conscious to admit and I believe that smoking your problems is better than eating them. I believe that exercising should be more for cathartic than health reasons since you're going to fucking die anyway and if you believe in fate then you might as well be buried in your own couch, for why get up and choose when it's all been chosen for you? I believe that cooking is an act of creation that not a lot of people are genetically born oriented towards and I believe that if you're judgmental then you most probably have enough fuck ups in yourself to deform la Gioconda. I believe that Erik Satie was the nearest to a saint as i might ever understand that expression to be and I believe that George Carlin did a better job than Joan of Ark. I believe that fake people are psychologically masturbating and that honest people, no matter how harsh they are, delusional or out of the realms of humanity they might be, are the closest thing to good that i'll ever admit to exist in this godforsaken world. I believe that people who care should be put away till they don't and I believe that Chocolate is the closest thing I've had or will ever have to getting off. I believe that everybody sells out, each at his own price, and consequently I believe that no man should be trusted as they might only be good because they have a stronger investment plan with the aforementioned price. And what does it matter? None of this will ever matter, because I also believe that pessimism is the optimism of the realists. Want an epiphany? Go read a bible, not my blog.

Of Hairline Cracks, Supermans & Shit.

Go easy on yourself. You're not as strong as you may seem, or think. You don't know when one thing, little as it may be, can hit home. That's the beauty of accumulative effect, it doesn't tell you when it hits, it doesn't have any symptoms or heads up. And when it comes, you have no one but yourself to blame, tho it was everyone involved in making it happen. Take it slow, and don't step out of your comfort zone all the time, or you'll lose track and might not ever find your way back there. Jump out of it from time to time, yes, but don't go wandering because somebody might eat your bread trail and you'll never find your way back home. You're not invincible, no matter how tightly you clutch onto your red cape, it's just a cape, and it's not bulletproof. It's too short to hide all of you, too. So don't be fooled. Don't be fooled by yourself, and how good you're doing, because you never know when a habit is being formed until it is, and habits break people, because no matter what you think; everybody is breakable, even you. You're breakable. You get hurt, even tho you might look detached and are so good at bouncing off traumas. You bounce off enough of those and you'll be bumped and bruised, and sometimes that crack in the windshield might break it into smithereens with enough speed and pressure. Just a hairline crack. So be gentle, be very gentle. You don't know when your hairline crack is gonna turn into a giant zigzag that goes right through your soul. You're your most precious possession, don't ever forget that, because if you do, nobody else will remember it as they look out for their own little diamonds and rubies. They'll crush you. Even tho you might egotistically think you can hold your own, sometimes you let it slip reaching for other people's own, and you fall headfirst into a rock and crack your skull, and when that happens, you only have yourself to blame.

'Hindus, in their capacity for love, are indeed hairless Christians, just as Muslims, in the way they see God in everything, are bearded Hindus, and Christians, in their devotion to God, are hat-wearing Muslims.'
- Life of Pi by Yann Martel.

Step From The Road To The Sea To The Sky.

Life Lesson #262: I honestly believe that the reason why people have intimacy issues is because they take the word 'implicated' way too seriously. People don't like it when they have somebody standing there going all: "I got your heeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyy ooooohhhhhhhhh, now listen what i saaaaay ooooooh." They want their 'hey oh' back, and they want it back now.

Life Lesson #263: What doesn't kill you gets you high. Look at it this way, if dying is floating way way up there beyond the reach of radio waves and rocket missiles, then a failed suicide attempt should be something like an earthbound missile, goes up high enough then loses momentum and gets a metaphysical erectile dysfunction and jams back into earth. However, you'll enjoy a high that not even Lil Wayne can phrase. It's amazing how a little change of perspective can make anything look trivial and everybody look replaceable. So by all means kill yourself people! Nothing and nobody will matter anymore, and the amount of shit you'll not give anymore will have you constipated. So my advice is, don't get gastric lavage, but go with it and jam back headfirst into earth; because it's fun, and life is short. Apparently tho, life is also that clingy ex that wouldn't leave you alone. It won't go without a fight, that is if the fight worked at all. Dying, as much it's easy, isn't very easy to get to; because hell, you can't get everything, can you?

Life Lesson #264: 'Come to believe that I better not leave before I get my chance to ride. When it's killing me, what do I really need; All that I need is to look inside.'

Life Lesson #265: 'And step over quietly, because we're not committing suicide, it's a revolutionary act.' Or is it?

Life Lesson #266: When you have the ability to mindfuck people and be able to sell anything to anyone, it's a little scary to be alone, because you don't know what your head might get you to do, now do you? I scare myself sometimes. I scare myself because i have no idea what i might do next. And i love it.

Life Lesson #267: 'Montag felt his hands might wither, turn over on their sides and never be shocked to life again. They would be buried for the rest of his life in his sleeves, forgotten. For these were the hands that acted on their own, no part of him. Here was where the conscience first manifested itself.' - Fahrenheit 451

Life Lesson #268: Faith is not feeling the need to ask why anymore, or to know why not. Faith is to be a sucker for things that you cannot explain, knowing that you can never explain them and not minding that anymore. And who would want that? Who wouldn't? Ray Bradbury said it better than i ever can: 'The folly of mistaking a metaphor for a proof, a torrent of verbiage for a spring of capital truths, and oneself as an oracle, is inborn within us all.'

Life Lesson #269: How am i not dead again?

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy oooooooooooh

Of Smoothies & Idiots.

Sometimes, and I should be one to admit this once and for all for irony’s sake; she has to bask in glory at my expense every once in a while, patterns are there for a reason. Even if they’re not very functional, they sometimes prove less dysfunctional than others and are settled on as a compromise to save face and make everybody happy. There are unwritten codes that everybody seems to know about and follow, and those who break the code aren’t always graced with a fairytale ending, because odds are 99 to 1 that you’re not an exception. You think that having the balls to do something and breaking the pattern will actually be the magic pill that solves everything because nobody else thought of it now did they? How naïve can one person get? There’s a pattern, and the pattern is there for a reason, some people are graced by the pattern. Others, well, not so much. And a handful really get their nuts in a vice holding the shortest end of the bargain with their pride running off and disowning them for the nearest shrub, reincarnating as a mug of coffee that’s always there till people need it, and it knows deep down that people will inevitably want it because, hell, who can live without coffee man? Coffee is the ultimate smooth-talker; it’s so smooth it doesn’t even have to talk.

You’re not really supposed to get this, or maybe you will, trick is, you’ll never know if you got it or not now will you?

Patterns are there for a reason. Those who break the pattern are there to prove that the pattern exists for a reason, because in their mortification lies the pattern’s true essence. Their experience does the pattern’s job most of the time, and the pattern lives on because those who were bold enough to break it were not unbreakable themselves.
Naïve? Maybe. Bold? Definitely. Invincible? I beg to differ.

Karma thrives on patterns, and since Karma is a bitch, she doesn’t like to be crossed. However, since she’s also a bitch, she can get biased sometimes, fall for somebody here and there. Keep the illusion alive. The illusion that feeds the pattern that feeds her. It couldn’t have worked out better for Karma now, could it? It all fits in perfectly.

Everybody loves a rebel, but how many times have you seen a rebel get what he wants? How many times have you actually seen a surviving salmon that swam against the flow? If they swim with the flow, the current will eventually lead them to the place bears wait for food to arrive like a cozy couple that have already reserved, ordered, broken the ice and are waiting for food to come, to them, almost voluntarily, in a restaurant as they talk out everything that they think they control but really don’t; they’d stop talking as soon as the food comes, won’t they? They can’t control everything, they can control when the food might come; because with credit comes control. Any sort of credit and any sort of control. I wouldn’t see somebody expect the food to come in time if they’re known for their bouncing checks. And they can’t expect the food to come in time if they’re used to having rain checks. On a similar note, not a lot of salmon survives the immigration, but then again how many salmons have you heard of that survived because they didn’t feel like immigrating this year?

People who call patterns a cycle are those who’ve been in it long enough to know what a cycle feels like and have given up on trying to feel anything different out of it, or those who’ve never followed it for the adrenaline rush of knowing, if just for a second, that it may or may not change. But what they don’t know is that not following the pattern is a pattern in itself, which Karma inevitably controls. You can’t find a loophole in the laws of nature. That’s just how it is. You’d be naïve to think that you can change, bend, or even put a tiny little dent in the pattern. Because hell, it’s more elaborate than you think it is, little fellow.

Social codes exist for a reason. Somebody got stupid way too many times and decided to put some ground rules. Unwritten codes are unwritten for a reason, that stupid person would never have documented how stupid they were. How would they gain enough credibility to get people to listen to them by admitting they’ve done everything they had in the list of no-no’s?

The pattern was made by stupid people who never wanted to be stupid again and ended up wronging the stupid people by making them even more distinct against those who supposedly have it in them. They’ve outlined their own stretch marks and mapped out all the mirrors and video cameras, but guess who got to use the video cameras, zoom in and put them for display in fluorescent lighting? That’s right, the Smoothies. The coffee mugs of the setting. Those who have the spreadsheet pre-installed in their system. The arachno genesis that inherited all the information without ever having to learn them by experience.

You learn not to be stupid from idiots, then what’s there to save if you’re an idiot? Good luck with the invisible cape, hero. Everybody is gonna feed off of you and nobody will ever know you even existed.