His World

He lives in a world where

You can be the writer of your own story

Where clouds are made of

Cigarette smokes

Where Ouroboros roams where

There is any lust

Where axes that cut down trees

Are made of wood

Where dreams are kept in a bottle

Waiting to set sail in the sea

Sky is an enormous puzzle

With a missing piece

Where age is just another myth

Like the dark side of the Moon

Where Nessie is the most revered pet

And dogs have human pets

Where only money grows on trees

And only the caged birds sing

Where bananas peel themselves

And turn the peels into hammocks

Where pictures of pipes have written under them,

“This is not a Pipe”


Tête-à-tête in Dreams

A small room in the basement

Countless lava lamps dispersing dreams

Poster of Woody Allen and Sid Vicious side by side

Taped beside my retractable bed

And some good old fashioned background music

That was my version of a perfect life

Until she came along

I was living through my vices

Busy with my Punk Rock serenade

Balancing out the traveling sound

And craving for Hell’s approval

Walking behind my own shadow

In the surreal world devised inside my mind

With a sheer sense of fulfillment

And then she created the void

That was never there to start with

She was like a sweet dream

From which I didn’t want to wake up from

I was spellbound and I didn’t even know it

She was everything that was right in this world

In a distant parallel universe

Resides my opposite self

A nice fellow with a heart of gold

His vices are replaced by innumerable virtues

Power saving bulb lights his room

With God as his sidekick

That is the perfect version of me for you

And yet you keep haunting me

In my picturesque dreams

Telling me to find you

And make you mine

Woe Is Me

Dear Diary,


I can’t believe that I’m writing after all these years. Just when I thought that I forgot how to actually write, I’m writing. I can’t believe my sheer luck that I found this small pencil today, just lying around on the floor waiting to be picked up by me. Most people wouldn’t believe what I had to do to bring it with me to my room; they surely wouldn’t. I had to push the pencil into my anus as far as I possibly could, so that it wouldn’t be found when I’m searched before entering my room. The things people do to keep their sanity. Only if I could ever fully realize that the mere idea of sanity is overrated. They let us keep a personal journal with us but they wouldn’t give us anything to write with and they call us insane.   


It is said that the pen is mightier than the sword. It couldn’t be truer in here than anywhere else. I would’ve believed it even if I didn’t see it for myself because when you’re here, you learn to believe in things. Mr. Burns was 47 years old. To us age was merely a number to help us find a way to cope with the fact that we’re living in hell. Well, there might even be a remote possibility that people from down there look up on us and laugh at our miseries. This is how bad things are down here. Let’s get back to Mr. Burns, shall we? He was just another aging person suffering from dementia and had no one to help him through it. He nearly got himself killed several times before deciding to get himself admitted in here only to be killed by his own hands.


His decision to come here was probably the worst decision anyone in the history of human kind has ever made. It was stupider than Hitler deciding to invade Poland. What a prick that Hitler guy was! Mr. Burns didn’t last much long in here. All the sane people have a hard time accepting the fact that they aren’t as sane as they think they are. Mr. Burns found a pen lying in the floor, kind of like me, I guess. I don’t know how he took it with him to his room. If it didn’t involve his anus, I’d surely like to know the method. Anyway, he supposedly pierced his windpipe through the pen and pulled it right across his throat. The pen probably wasn’t as good as a knife but it worked and that is what mattered to him.

Danny Vs. The World

 It was a bright sunny morning. Danny woke up at seven O’clock, just in time to freshen up, have his breakfast, get dressed and go to his school. Instead of doing these things, he chose to stay down at his bed wondering about the dream he had the previous night. He dreamt about defeating Dick Dastardly and his partner in crime, Muttley in a dog fight. It was a comical dream because at the end of it he saw Dick Dastardly turn into Snidely Whiplash and he turned into Dudley Do-Right himself and rescued the damsel in distress.

        Danny got up from his bed and started having his breakfast without even brushing his teeth. His parents left early at the crack of dawn for their work as usual. Work, that is what they do, think about and live for. They leave early and come back after the sun drowns in the western hemisphere. “It’s not easy running your own business”, they say when Danny asks them why they can’t go to any of his events at school.

        Danny subsequently went to the living room and turned the TV on. That is what he does during most of his daytime, watch TV. He is a smart kid but too smart for his own good. Once he got caught trying to skip his school and stay at home to watch TV but he got off easy as he’s barely eight years old. He missed the telecast of Tom and Jerry the previous day, that’s why he decided to stay at home and catch the re-telecast of the show. After he was done watching the show, he felt kind of lonely. Maybe he needs someone, the Scooby to his Shaggy. He finds his world in TV and is glad being like that.

        That day his Uncle Charlie came to visit him in the afternoon. Uncle Charlie could see how engrossed Danny was in watching TV. He decided to fool around with Danny. He called Danny and said, “Do you know why TV exists, Danny?” “So that we can get amusement”, replies Danny while smirking. “No”, says Uncle Charlie. “We, adults have made TV so that we can control you kids. It’s a part of our propaganda; so that you guys listen to us and not think too much,” continued Uncle Charlie in a grave voice and looking dreadfully solemn. Danny didn’t know what propaganda meant but it sounded appalling to him nonetheless. So he started scratching his head when suddenly Uncle Charlie started to talk again. “Do you see your parents watch too much TV, Charlie?” said Uncle Charlie in a relaxed voice. “No, not really”, replied Danny in a concerned voice.

        Uncle Charlie knew that his work there was done, so he left in a rush while Danny just stood there thinking about what his uncle just told him. He decided to write a letter to the TV network he loved the most. He wrote about the things his uncle told him and if they were really true or not. The guys from the TV network got his letter and they started to get worried after reading it. It was exactly what they were doing all along, making kids watch commercials and involve them in consumerism.

        They wrote to Danny back saying all of the accusations were false and the TV network is run by kids of his age who’re just trying their best to show what kids like him want to see, there is no harm in that. Whoever told him these awful things was just probably messing around with him. The adults are trying to incept the idea that TV is bad for the kids in to their mind. The TV network even telecast shows telling the kids that their parents are lying to them about these things.

        When the parents got to know about this, they naturally got really angry at the TV network and tried to shut it down. While the two sides are busy throwing dirt at each other, the protagonist of this story is back to where he initially was; living his life in TV and thinking about tying Snidely Whiplash to the rail tracks for a change.

Losing Sanity

As I started to spend more time with her
It made me want to see her
Even more than what it already did
That feeling was getting inconsolable
And that made me take a look at myself
I saw myself like I was staring into the clouds and trying to find God
I saw myself like I would see a stranger through my nude eyes
And as I saw myself even more
A cloud of judgement arose
And I could see myself getting distant
From sanity
And moreover myself.

For A Friend

“We are defined by the things that we do at our darkest moments.”

I know that you are hurting right now and there is possibly nothing that I can do to make you feel better other than maybe saying that it is going to get better.

It might not seem like much but do you know why people still choose to say this? It’s because no matter how bad the situation is, it always gets better and every once in a while all we need is a little bit of reassurance that things will take a turn for the better.

They say that time heals all wounds. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. Who knows? But do you know what time does to you? It takes away the precious moments from your life that you could be enjoying while you’re lamenting over something. I know that life isn’t fair. It has never been fair and it never will be. I also know that you’ve had more than your fair share of desolation for a person so young but hey, remember what you keep quoting when I feel down? What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.

I know that you have it in you to rub it off and be like what you’ve always been in my eyes, crazy happy.

My words might or might not make sense right now and they might or might not make you feel better but that is a chance that I’m willing to take and it is surely something worth spending my words over. When you feel really deserted and hopeless, always know that there’s someone out there who still values you and cares for you. That should be enough to get you through the dark days.

Life and Nostalgia


Sometimes when I look back at things, I realize what everything is really about. The philosophical truth of life, the triumph of good over all that is evil and complexity that life brings with it.

And then I have an epiphany which suddenly transforms into a deja vu sort of feeling and I realize that I’ve thought about these things before and at the end of all the discussions, I always come to the same conclusion that I’m so busy with my future, I tend to overlook my present at times.

The thought bubble containing the truth of life then disappears, waiting to return again someday; to make sure that it gets to see the light of day and lives through me in thoughts.