Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines...

The stories aren't important. The moral of the story is.

Morals of the story:
1. Nothing/Nobody is irreplaceable.
2. Don't get your heart stuck on something.

Net Take-Out:
Learn how to roll with the punches and try and wrap your head around, "What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger."

P.S. Shit Happens. Life Goes On...But Until Then...

Banana Sticker Man, Where Art Thou ?

My secret banana sticker man lover has foresaken me. He hasn't written to me in a while. I have waited patiently all this while for a secret clandestine note...but to no avail. I have bought innumerous bananas with no luck.

And now giddy with nervous excitement post a glass of banana milkshake I await the return of the boy with more bananas...

Perhaps the sticker-love notes will reappear...perhaps perhaps perhaps...

Metaphor Ellicitation

me: its raining :D

and cold rain !

on a warmish day !

magic must be made of things like thesehe: ulta. magic makes such things

and pune seems bereft of it
me: na na magic is made up of things like these

magic makes more magnificent things happen

pune is bereft because it grieves my loss :)
he: ai hai

qattal , jabardasti but qattal
me: as u can see I'm on a roll
he: unfortunately i think it just continues

there is no stopping your rolling
i think the circular symmetry you have attained assists you

me: words are dancing off your plump fingers and creating poetry on the keyboard

is there a butterfly on your mouse ?
he: no butterflies anywhere

me: how unfortunate...stomach butterflies are the things one lives for

the day they die, a part of u does too
he: and that reminds me your butterflies prediction

which did not come true

me: bring back the people who cause the butterflies

he: they bring a lot more than just butterflies

me: it will keep u alive

sort the butterflies out and separate them from all else
use your agile mind to enjoy the butterflies and ignore the rest

harmless selfishness never harmed anyone

he: hmmm , i think that is what i did this time

if i come to think about it

hmm hmm hmm
me: how interesting !

but you claimed the lack of em butterflies

he: hmmm

me: so make up your mind laddie

he: no butterflies
me: i feel you ascribe much to butterflies than exists and hence the fear to claim their presence

he: possible possible
me: rein your thoughts that transform from wild horses to petulant possom at every chanceto control the butterflies you must control your thoughts

Arbitness on a Sunday morning. Great start to the day :)

Oooo...an experiment landed itself in me lap this morning.

The boy announced rather matter of factly that he has decided to pay for a private parking space starting June 1st.

He says, post acquiring a parking spot he will take me out every night.

I have decided to make a project out of this initiative and study the pre and post parking spot versions of the boy.

I believe this study will throw light on the currently foggy perception of - parking lot being the reason for the lack of social life vs. the boy being the reason for the lack of social life.

Results shall be posted in three months, post tremendous analysis.

After Thought

Do I ask too much ? But I only ask once in a while.

Should I plan my back ups ? But that buoy is all I have.

Hope is all I have. Faith is all I need.

Do I ask too much ?

Thought

Drifting in high seas. Dreams of free floating realised. Not as much fun as expected.

On the contrary, another one of them character building exercises.

Searching high and low for a buoy. Pinning all hopes on that sole float to take me ashore.

Just Something Interesting I Read...Posted for Posterity

The mirror stage according to Lacan is the infantile stage where an external image of the body (potentially a mirror reflection or represented through the mother) produces a psychic response that gives rise to the mental representation of an "I".

The infant identifies with the image, which serves as a gestalt* of the infant's emerging perceptions of selfhood, but because the image of a unified body does not correspond with the underdeveloped infant's physical vulnerability and weakness, this imago is established as an Ideal-I toward which the subject will perpetually strive throughout his or her life.

For Lacan, the mirror stage establishes the ego as fundamentally dependent upon external objects, on another.

* The German word Gestalt means "pattern" or "figure." As a psychological concept, Gestalt refers to our perception of a form whose meaning exceeds the totality of its components--a Gestalt is always greater than the sum of its parts. Gestalt psychology is founded on the observation that we do not comprehend our world as an assemblage of disparate elements, but as a pattern of meaningful forms. Our understanding of a "home", for example, is derived from more than merely the materials and architectural plans that produce the physical "house." A "face" is likewise more than a collection of identifiable parts. For Lacan, the imago with which the infant identifies in the mirror stage is a kind of Gestalt. The infant recognizes not only that it is a particular shape, but also grasps that this shape has a special -- in fact transformative -- significance.

And now the question - So is the imago conscious or unconscious - I mean if the ego is conscious what is the relation between the ego and the imago - does the ego continue with the image in some kind of dynamic after the mirror-stage? just wondering...

Why do I bring this upon myself ?

Sigh.

I Hear Lights

No. Really. I do.

The sounds of cop cars and fire engines blaring away like a cuckoo going menopausal with an amplifier in her voice is etched deep in my reptilian brain.

Ergo, even when the drivers of these vehicles mute the sound and just have the flashing lights, my brain recreates the sound in full blast.

So all the muting drama is just pointless. May as well unmute the nonsense. At least I won't feel like Joan of Arc* then.

* Joan of Arc heard voices too. I am sure you knew that. And you ? Who me ? Couldn't be. Then who ? Mr. X stole the cookie from the cookie jar. HUSH.

The saga continues...

Remember about those banana stickers ?

Well I bought a bunch today. And of course once I get home and decide to eat one, I see I've picked the one with the sticker again ! Guess what it says this time ?!

"Guilt-Free Snacking. Chiquita"

Instead of my initial paranoia, like on the first two occasions that the stickers showed up, this time I couldn't help but notice how appropriate the sticker is, given my new found fascination for healthier foods and weight loss !

Maybe there is after all a soul mate for me somewhere far far away, printing stickers to communicate with me. Or maybe it's our next door neighbour who hears my angst through the paper thin walls and manufactures these stickers for the convenience store where I buy the bananas from. The second option is just a wee-bit creepy for my liking...so I am going to stick with soulmate theory.

I think I might just finish this bunch of bananas ASAP as the excitement for my next communication from my secret love is just too much to take...

A thousand apologies...But...

Now since I have seen Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter in this country, I am thinking these are a bunch of very very quiet people and their Gods probably don't like too much noise and hoop-la.

Either that, or Hindu Gods are deaf as posts.

My Status Message - Hello, Weekend :)
(On a Thursday)

She - :( so jealous of you, 1 more day for me before I say hello weekend !
Me - it's a state of mind. not a day of the week :)