Recent Photographs

(Hill Bill. Perfection on the train ride back from Delhi)

(Crazy FlameBoy with strange nose stud in Delhi)

(View from my balcony on a thunderous festering belly of an evening {not photoshopped})

(Mocha too beautiful to drink)

(My pretty mum! and my sisters baby, Vir at some Pooja at home)

(Anands dreads posing at Mukesh Mills on a hot afternoon a couple of weeks ago)

My demons have fled for they did not know that which I am.

I am this and nothing more
I am Black Death, I am crimson hate
I am Mary and the wicked Whore
Enthroned on abyssic stormclouds in burning skies...
I am this and something more
I am the rape of winter, I am the crush of ice
I am fear incarnate, the stygian cold you abhor
Engraved on Olympian stone in kingly majesty...
I am this and so much more.

- The Psychology of Demons and the Bitterness of Winter, Scholomance

A question not meant for you...

Do Sadists go to heaven?
I suppose if they only consort with masochists there wouldn't be a problem, the relationship would be reciprocal. The main argument, however, is not the act but the thought. Is it wrong to even imagine inflicting some serious pain on other for your pleasure? It shouldn't be, everybody does, they just don't like to admit it. The distinction between the intent and the deed, while very clear to some, does not exist at all for others. If you consider something your society views as wrong do you feel dirty? Does it make you reconsider your place and right to live? Those delightful little thoughts are almost always shoved into the back of your mind because they aren't permissible. People don't have freedom of thought anymore (as if they ever did), not without some sort of accompanying guilt. Oi. So if an individual leads a "good" life, a wonderful life, gives 25% of their income to the poor and volunteers frequently, the stereotypical over-achieving humanitarian and all that shite, but they enjoy hanging people upside down and placing clamps on their nipples while running fine blades down their bare backs are they going to be judged by their 'good' actions or their sadistic tendencies? I imagine that if word leaked out the only important information would be that they're sick in the head. All of the normalicies that represented kindness would be thrown away. So...do you think your god, works that way as well? Will She throw away an (almost) pure soul based on a perhaps physically harmful fetish? Even if the habit is consensual? Really?

(For the record, I'm Agnostic)

LMAO

Why I love Moshy.....: D

Aruna says: (on suicide..)
but when you lose things that you hold dear to, the world around doesn't matter. there's just you and your loss. you know that there's a bus coming hurtling at you, but it doesn't matter.

Moshy says:
romanticism is a western ideal

Moshy says:
and like rock, all its local adaptations are mawkish tragedies

Moshy says:
any attempts at even bridging the divide result in crap movies like Morning Raga

Fuck Me Tender String Bender.

I'm going to use my title on BOT when he starts playing guitar. : D
Or maybe ill just seduce Robert Flynn when hes done playing 'Decend the shades of night' live for me.
(Intellectual intercourse??? Or finality of cause...)

I think it's funny when some vegetarians wear leather. I want to show them their veins, peel off their skin, and wear it as a hat. Yeah, you like that? Maybe I'll wear it for the big date. He'll like that. That's right. He only dates me for my clothes. And tonight I'm wearing your animal fat smeared face.

Sometimes I think I should celebrate suicide. On a job well done. Hey, you got what you wanted, right? Break out the mother fucking wine and get the glasses. You accomplished your goal. If I were to commit suicide, I would certainly not want anyone mourning. I would want them to congratulate me. Job fuckign well done..They would be shocked. Didn't think I had it in me did you.. Hey, that would be one thing I wouldn't have failed. A job well done. Maybe I'll get bonus points if I don't spill any blood on the carpet.

And I want to fucking know what happens when there is nothing left to die for. I would fucking celebrate you.

When I sit crossed legged for too long, I lose all feeling in my feet. Stand up, and fall down.
I think im pmsing.
My dinner tonight was raw fish at Moche. Rawas.
I wish I could stay home all weekend and just eat chinese noodles.

I hate pointless entries. They make me mad. Have you noticed when you write a meaningful entry, and a pointless one after that..you always end up reading the pointless one when you go back to your blog?

....And when I say goodnight the pictures in my head will dance aorund my room and frolic in my bed and when I say good day they hide behind my eyes and wait for the dreaming to bring me back alive....