M o r e B l o g s !

This post is an advertisement to my new blog the auteurs <.>
I created this blog to convey my feelings of amazement, bliss etc.. Those few films that are worth mention and those few pieces of music that are worth mention. Amen.

N o r m a l l y N o r m a l F r i e n d s

All my friends are normally normal. By that, it also means they are abnormally abnormal. What I want to say is.. the abnormalities of my friends are manifest only through mishaps which mishappen according to a Gaussian probability distribution.

So coming to my normally normal friends, there is this guy who is normally normally dressed. A pair of pants and a shirt, he keeps on. But on that occassionally abnormal day, you would find him prowling about without the formers. For he had uttered a funny joke that day. And whenever he utters a funny joke, a mysterious neon halo appears above his head "Pull my pants down please". And it is hard not to oblige neon halos, you know.

Then there is this other guy who is normally normally featured. That is to say, you would not mistake him for a duck-billed platypus or a thornbill's bronze tail, for that matter, on a normally normal day. But on the occasional rainy day, you would find him adorned with two umbrellas. For he carries a second one to cover his head. The first umbrella, you know, automatically pops off his ass as soon as the first signs of moisture become evident in the atmosphere. Now, isn't that what you would call a smart ass ?

Then there is this other fellow who keeps his pace normally normal. That is to say you would not find him breaking olympic records in 100m sprint, on a normally normal day. But on the occassionally abnormal day, he would suddenly start to think. It is as if his brain suddenly wakes up from a deep slumber. And then he would start running. Many of us suspect there is a hidden coupling in his brain between the think-nerve and the run-nerve. And it is as if they go hand-in-hand (or nerve-in-nerve). Many an olympic record were broken on the day he was asked to choose between butter-pecan and honey-almond.

These abnormaities which occur at abnormal times make my friends interesting. Kinda like supermen, you know.

Of all the people, however, I would pick one friend of mine for being the excessively normally normal. That is to say, never was an abnormality sighted in his entire disposure or composure. Except for that day when he died. It was on that day that I discovered that he had an abnormality too.

Now if I have to explain the details of this particular death, I would have to first tell you that he had an acquarium for his head. A glass chamber and water and a couple of fish which swimmed around. Nothing abnormal about his head, right ? He used to have a hard time concealing his mind, if that is what you call it. That is, you would find the water turned all green when he was jealous. And the water turned all yellow when he was in that I-badly-need-a-coffee moods. And the water turned all blue when he was feeling particulary depressed about a girl. And when the fish were fighting and biting into each other, then you would know he was particularly in a dilemma.

On that particular day when he died, however, I found him really angry. I asked him "Wassup friend ?" And he said "!@#$!@%$#%$%#%"

Then I saw that the water in his acquarium-head was bubbling out. "Fizzzzz" it sounded. And suddenly, the glass chamber exploded with the pressure of this steam. The fish were semi-cooked by the time of the explosion, but they still danced wildly in the open and then they died too ! It was then that I uttered my famous words-of-wisdom.

"Do not become angry if you have an acquarium for your head"

L i n e o f V e n u s

T h e H a u n t e d F r e e w a y

They call this the Line of the Venus. Yes, gentle rider. This road splits the desert into two and runs straight till it disappears into the sea. It is said that a man who rides on this road will forever be bewitched by its black nape. And after he completes the ride, he shall no longer be himself. A part of him shall always remain with the road.

Temptation - it is a mortal weakness. But the one who rides on this road will do well to avoid temptation - the temptation to conquer space, to defeat time, to attain the unattainable. But space appears to be so vulnerable. Time pretends to be so tender. Still heed my warning, gentle rider. Or you may become one of those - permanently crippled in the mind. The ones whose souls are permanently possessed by the Venus.

It is said that if you yield to the temptation of speed, you will see strange visions on this road. But nobody can speak for the tricks that Venus plays on your mind. And nobody who can speak for them knows them for real. I will tell you my experience, gentle rider. You shall decide for these tricks yourself.

It was a breezy evening. Was it today ? Was it yesterday ? I have no memory of the time that elapsed. But I remember the ride. The black nape of the road was even more bewitching under the black clouds of the sky. A distant storm was brewing somewhere. And there I was on my motorbike, racing against the wind.

The long road kept melting into the perspective. A vehicle or two sailed past me under the blink of my eye. But otherwise, I was scarcely overtaken. I drifted past a volley of trucks. But soon the long road became vacuous. Lone and empty, my Venus as a lovely concubine. I grew more and more possessive about her and the pleasures at her lovely depths.. Unwilling to tolerate anybody reaching ahead of me.

At one point, I remember being consciously aware of being alone on the road. Not a vehicle in sight until the line of the horizon. A lonely rider racing with time. But then, I had this unworldly feeling that the road was racing with me. So maybe I was not alone.

Suddenly, I became aware of the harsh feeling that the road was occupied. There was something on the road - pinkish and crumpled in the middle. It flew past me. A moment later, another object appeared. And this time, I slowed down. Or maybe, it was the road that slowed down, so that I could watch it. It was a pinkish object - the internals of some animal. Maybe the hip-bone.. Maybe the throat... And soon I spotted more objects.. A Lung ? A Liver ? A Heart ?

My mind quickly offered several explanations for what I had seen. Maybe, a butcher's cart had spilled over. Maybe a predator, a hawk perhaps, had dropped something. Maybe it was a party of buzzards which were shooed away by gunfire. As soon as I thought about this, there was a distinct squeaking of buzzards in my ears. Somewhere distantly, for no buzzard was within my sight. Or maybe.. or maybe that was a dog that was squished over by a truck. At this very moment, I sighted a complete body of a dog - dead flat on the road. Blood oozing out of the plane of its skin.

I continued to observe more pieces of pink flesh. Which animal was it ? A pig perhaps. Or .. or were they the vitals of a man ? And it was then that I considered that maybe the road was playing tricks on my mind. But I would not know this for sure, and it was too late to repent for this anyway. The squeaking of the buzzards continued in my ears. And I continued to race on my motorbike, carefully avoiding the real / imaginary pieces of flesh on the road - a puzzle that Venus was playing with me.

Then I noticed something white on the road. Not pink in color, but something which was definitely the vitals of an animal. Was it a brain ?

It was then that an unbelievable thing happened. My bike went straight over the brain - squishing it flat onto the road. It happened as if the bike suddenly obtained a will of its own, or maybe that was what I had secretly wanted.

And then, I began to hear a melancholic sound in my ears - like the wailing of a fox. I was also aware of an electricity in the wind. I was tempted to look in the rear-view mirror.

A huge wall of ocean wave - I could hear the scrumple of water and its froth, as high as a mountain leaping onto the ground just behind me. Immediately, I turned backwards in order to look directly at the wave in all its ferocity. Instinctively, I also bent the bike on the ground to cower at the wave.

But I saw nothing. There was just the long road and me, in our undisturbed privacy.

But then my bike slammed onto the road - dragging me a thousand meters away. Steel and splinters flew threw my body, tearing it into a thousand pieces of flesh.

And I have been living here ever since, gentle rider.

Though I am devoid of my eyes and my ears, I am still conscious of myself. And I am conscious of the road. The road speaks to me, gently whispering about who is passing through her.

Now, gentle rider, I can sense you are close now. I can hear the road vibrating in shrill anticipation. Come here.... squish me...