The sky is no man's land.

So much angst I spill all over this place, it's soaked in a dark, sticky concentrate of gloom that has the consistency of tar and the temperament of quicksand. It rained last night, and the most dramatic "all is full of love" moment was had. If only it rained every time I wished for it to. Every time I needed it to.

For everything else, there's The Clash. Sheer bad-ass brilliance.

Of all the words I have to say...

give me a week or two to || go absolutely cuckoo || and when you see your error || then you can flee in terror

rock and roll, complete control.

The end of college has been anticlimactic, at best. A goodbye has no real meaning if you have nothing to say it to. 

Things have not been great. But that's a bit of a secret. A secret, because I'm no longer selfish and self-indulgent enough to not scoff at myself. Not all has changed though. I still grieve the loss of selfishness more than the fact that things have not been great. And then, there's this. There's more of a loss of things than anything else. The occasional presence, and perpetual lack of everything. Except for the writing on the wall, which is clearer than ever. Unfortunately, so are the claw marks. 

So, there's also guilty-pleasure-music. Here's a band called Dark Dark Dark, because I'm that obvious with my tastes. Guilt should be made of sterner stuff. 

And this is rather brilliant. 

...and I cannot believe it's been 11 years since the turn of the millenium. can you?

Rung in the new year in the absolutely best way possible. Family + barbeque night + dad's cooking  = silly-happy overfed me. Ate so much, I can't walk. A better strategy would be to roll around the house from room to room. Die, ongoing-exams, die!

2010 was quite something. It was the year of unexpected events. Of uncertainty, and doubt, and change, and rediscovery, and faith, and thrill, and euphoria, and love, and belief, and hope and things far more scary crucial in the grand scheme of things. Even for the sheer number of things let go of, and those gained. I don't remember being this happy. I don't remember ever being this glad.

Wishing you all a very happy new year, and hoping that the days ahead bring you whatever it is that you want from it. On that note, I leave you with one of the best songs I've heard all year. Goodnight.

Why Amanda Palmer is Brilliant - Part 1

My Alcoholic Friends - The Dresden Dolls

I think your bruise was understated.

As unlikely as I am to listen to a band that calls itself Death Cab for Cutie(or anything in the immediate vicinity), this song just stirs me up in a way that doesn't happen often enough these days. Not that I'm one of the classic rock/metal elitists, but this particular band usually sounds more than a little pansy-ish to me. And there are a lot of questionable things I may be into, but my tolerance for all-things-emo is far too low to be convenient.

This piece however, is different. It's the opening notes, I think, that brew-up the piping hot nostalgia.

"But you’re so farsighted that you can’t place trust
In what or who you recognize."

Yep, Nostalgia is always a dish best served hot.

Just tryin' to keep it in line...

Florence+The Machine

Oh well, the devil makes us sin.

Orange Clouds Raining in My Head.

I'm often asked why I'm so in awe of Tori Amos, after all these years. Well, here's why:

Silent all These Years


My scream got lost in a paper cup.
You think there's a heaven where
some screams have gone?
I got 25 bucks and a cracker
do you think it's enough to get us there?

'Cause what if I'm a mermaid?
in these jeans of his with her name still on it.
Hey, but I don't care
'Cause sometimes
I said sometimes I hear my voice
And it's been here
Silent all these...

I'm pretty sure this is one of the most powerful songs I've ever come across. An intense story embedded in each stanza. How could it possibly not inspire awe? 11 years hence, it still does.

Joy to the world!

All of my world-weariness, jadedness, and other forms of general cynicism aside, eating condensed milk straight out of the tin is one of the few perfect pleasures left in life.

Pardon the title of the post. But I knew it. This being-happy-with-a-vengeance business is making me not just STRANGER, but CREEPIER. And I'm in one of those moods. So THIS is what I give to you :

This, right here, is the reason why my driving tutor quit his job and moved to a remote village. It is also the reason why the rickshaw-wallas in my locality shudder and go poof at sight. And what gave my mom diarrhea, the first and only time she sat in a car I was driving.

 

I'm drowning myself in The Cardigans, The Cranberries and Garbage. And they go wonderfully with condensed milk.

The Quest.

I'm scouting desperately for a piece of music that hypnotizes me. The sort that fills you up, makes the air seem heavy, has you imagining sparks bursting out of the windows and puts the whole world on fire. The supposed Richard Halley brand of music. The closest I've ever come to finding it, is this :

I've been in love with Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 since before I can remember. But, I seek more. 

Recommendations, anyone?

Sex and Candy.

Marcy Playground. Stuck in my head for way too long.
That's all.

Your Touch, Cold As Ice.

Discovery--> Sappy metal music.
How very apt. Just what the (quack)shrink ordered. And Cheema recommended.

Also, is it just me, or is the vocalist a dead ringer for Morrison.
Dead-ringer, would be right. Looks like Morrison turned into a zombie and crawled out of his grave. Or was reborn as the spawn of Edward Scissorhands.


Also,names like His Infernal Majesty amuse me to no end. Right up there with Dark Tranquility, Within Temptation and In Flames. What is it with the Finnish-Swedish-Danish bands and moronic nomenclature? But then there's this. Pure genius.

P.S. Missing in action. Way too much going on, all at the same time. I'm tempted to rant, but then... luck should only be pushed so far. And that's what email is for.

Riding High on a Deep Depression.

I'm only happy when it rains - Garbage

Because I miss the band.
And this song, hits the bull's-eye.

London Undersound.

One of the better things to come out of Buddha Bar. Challe did brew up some pretty good compilations, over 11 albums and 10 years. Of course, World music does have an unparalleled charm.

Mer-curial-maiden would also feature in the credits, for having introduced me to Sawhney.

Happy Sunday, World!
*dives back into piles of books, files and assignments*

The whole world... is still on my string.

For the love of indie music.
And then we go crazy with it.