I'm a man, without conviction, I'm a man, who doesn't know.. How to sell a contradiction: You come and go, You come and go.

-Karma Chameleon by Culture Club.

Contradiction. Paradox. Rhetoric. Oxymorons. Have you ever stopped to think about the beauty of paradox, irony and contradiction in language? Why express in simple words if it can be constructed within a contradiction? It immediately makes you sit up and think.

Think about it.

• I think I've caught a fever. How do I describe it? It makes me feel hot and cold and the same time.
• A cold fever.
  

Playing with language has always fascinated me. And I'm yet to find the perfect song that plays with words. Some have come very close, though.

1. Suzie Q- Creedence Clearwater
   
2. Am I wrong- Keb 'Mo'
   
3. Sorry- Maria Mena
   
4. Yellow Submarine-Beatles
   
5. Babe I'm gonna leave you- Led Zep
6. Bigger Stronger Faster- Coldplay
7. Alright- Madeliene Peyroux
8. Magic Man- Heart
9. Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova- Falling Slowly.
10. I'm your Man- Leonard Cohen
11. Superstition- Stevie Wonder
12. Crazy- Gnarls Barkley
13. Pink Bullets- The Shins
14. Trouble- Ray Lamontagne
15. Stormy Monday- Eva Cassidy
16. Somebody to love- Queen
17. Gone in the morning- Newton Faulker
    

More later. I am going to swoon, croon over these for the time being.

P.s- Too lazy to post youtube links. Take my word, every song is worth atleast one listen. They're not my favorites, but they are pretty darn fab. And my favorite genre of music isn't included in this list, apart from keb mo, because their lyrics are not as beauitful as the melodies. Prove me wrong, someone! Hurry!!!

I had this excellent image for the thing I wanted to convey through this post. Sadly, google and blogger is acting up and I absolutely cannot wait another minute for the image to upload.

You'll just have to make do with the desired effect created by the amazing play of words.

Anyhoo.

I am letting him go. Letting. Him. Go.

In all its meaning, connotations and repercussions. I feel rather nice today. And it dawned upon me, that I am ready to move on, happily at that. And and even better realization is that even if I end up getting what I want from him, it won't be what I want in general. And knowing this, running after what only seems futile is only messing me up, innit? When really, chances are, this is only so desirable because it isn't available.

Oh, I am twisted.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwDuC3fs0Gk


Love, oh love, oh careless love,
You've fly though my head like wine
You've wrecked the life
Of many a poor girl
And you nearly spoiled this life of mine

Love, oh love, oh careless love
In your clutches of desire
You've made me break a many true vow
Then you set my very soul on fire

Love, oh love, oh careless love,
All my happiness bereft
Cause you've filled my heart with weary old blues
Now I'm walkin' talkin' to myself

Love, oh love, oh careless love,
Trusted you now it's too late
You've made me throw my old friend down
That's why I sing this song of hate

Pink Bullets- The Shins.

I've been listening to this song on repeat for four days now.
It's the kind of song that every once in a while, shakes you up, makes you teary-eyed only because it overwhelms you.
The melody, the lyrics. They all fit. It ascends and descends leaving you wanting more, yet content in a spooky way.
Sigh. This makes me feel alive. Not in an upbeat way, but in a "this is what I live for" way.


I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole
you held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold
oh what a contrast you were
to the brutes in the halls
my timid young fingers held a decent animal.

Over the ramparts you tossed
the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
tied to a brick
sweet as a song
the years have been short but the days were long.

Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass
we fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed
when our kite lines first crossed
we tied them into knots
and to finally fly apart
we had to cut them off.

Since then it's been a book you read in reverse
you understand less as the pages turn
or a movie so crass
and awkardly cast
that even I could be the star.

Prologue:
After many (oh many, many) moments of being miserable, helpless and all that jazz.. I realized this is short lived. So I decided to be positive about it, rather than cribbing or whining. Stuff happens. Meh. {stuff: startling realization. startling in a bad way}
(Having said that, this doesn't mean I won't be mopping around. I still will, but it is commendable that I have a optimistic approach to it, right?)


Why fight for an Inspiration?
I'm pouring myself a cup of fate,
And waiting for it to cool..
So I can drink into a blissful oblivion.

Why define? Conform or Decide?
I'd rather dismiss and smile,
Being perfecting content,
With the flaws, the questions,
The supposed: taken-a-wild-shot-at kind of answers.

Why question?
I'm stitching myself a vision,
and an additional pacification,
Using colours, prints and faith.
If you look close enough,
It will say:
"Hello there. This is me. The End"



Epilogue:
Hey. Atleast I try.

I sort of saw this coming.
Evolution, much?

I was reading through my old posts and I realised I could have written every one of them better. The flinching, though, was uncalled for.

They're right. He has no positive presence. I begin to doubt myself after I stick around him too much. I take myself too seriously, and invariably end up being hard on myself. I have to stop being someone else.

I am me: And this statement has never made more sense to me than now.

I've had enough of self-analysis for a while now. This should serve as a requisite reminder.

As the saying goes.. blame it on the rain.

Nobody woul relate me with a gooey, cheesy mood. And I'm not talking romantic in the popular fiction sense. I'm talking romantic in the nature loving, inspirational, ideal sense.

I would love to be in some unexplored place, around 6 in the evening.. so it's not too dark, but there's no hint of sunlight. Heavy rainfall. A Black umbrella and I set off for a loooong walk. I settle down bellow this tree (let's just presume it saves me from getting drenched... not that I wouldn't want to, but I have a camera, so). I have some music playing in the background, (some Creedence Clearwater Revival, Mozart, Beatles, Farida Khanum, Jagjit Singh, Damien Rice, Coldplay and ofcourse, Dave Matthews Band, and I should be set), and I just sit and enjoy the nature.

I would write. I would sing. I would rejoice.

"Or am I dreaming? Lovely Lady.. Let me drink you, pleeease?"

Take pictures of each droplet. Take pictures of the natural greenery. Of the trees swaying, as if they sway to every note of music. Capture every moment of melody.

The Rain.

It's enchanting. Magical. Who would think a couple of droplets of water from the sky could transport you into a different world and make you unperturbed about your changed romantic self.

If only I could do the aforementioned. Instead, I set out with my camera and my umbrella and took a few pictures of around here and there. The feeling of the rain on my feet, on my back, was exhilarating nonetheless.

What a day :)