Wednesday, July 28, 2010

I'm just saying

absolutely nothing and everything at the same time



Nothing can be everything
Everything is something
Something can be anything
And anything is nothing

Thinking you know something
Of what it means to know
Means understanding nothing
Of what you thought was known

Thinking you understand nothing
Of what it means to know
Means understanding something
Of what you thought unknown

But be sure of a certain thing
That you don't know everything
Though still know more than nothing
So surely you must know something

Therefore this is the way of being
That from learning something
Leads to knowing everything
And dissolves to nothing

Through understanding and learning
Comes some-every-any-no-thing
Which brings more questioning
And in the end still wondering...

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Bulldog Drummond

by Sapper

http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Books/Pix/covers/2008/12/04/sapper.jpgFirstly I will talk a bit about this book. The first Bulldog Drummond book was published in 1920 and several subsequent books were published as well as movies made of it. The protagonist is Hugh "Bulldog" Drummond, a WWI veteran. The author of the book was also a WWI veteran.

This book is about Drummond who puts an ad in the paper because he had nothing to do and was seeking someone to call for him if they had any problems or something that needs solving or investigating. So a woman replies and from there the story starts. I will just break down the plot. Carl Peterson has hatched up a dastardly plan to overthrow England and revolutionize it into a Bolshevic republic. But this was just Peterson's cover plan. He really did not care anything about England for better or worse, he was just in in for the money, and with his right hand man Henry Lakington, they would toy with the fate of an entire nation to achieve this end.

I read this book, and it took me several weeks. I bought it with a set of 6 other classic books. To be honest, I really did not like it much. It seemed like a piece of the most corny things I have ever read. All the characters seem to stereotypes. For instance, the woman Phylis, would swoon at the site of Drummond and say the most typical things ever. And Drummond is really a man's man, he seem to be the ultimate man ever. He learnt a whole bunch of fighting skills from all his buddies, the could wrestle a gorilla, he had the most deft of instincts and reactions. He is basically indestructible.

There are also question marks with the plot. Say one part where Drummond is tied up. He tricks the guard buy saying he has money in his pocket. And he can only get to it if he unties it. Then this guard, a German, unties Drummond and tried to get to it. And of course, how surprising, Drummond knocks him out. Come on! If the guard had any sense, he would knock Drummond out cold THEN get the money. And this is another form of English idolization, showing the Germans as stupid. It is not realistic.

The plot itself was meant to be very grand with the revolution of all of England. But it did not feel grand at all, it felt like a bunch of thugs going at each other. Like I will go to this house and beat up this bloke, then because the other group of guys are pissed, they hatch a clever plan and beat up those other guys. Ridiculous. It is trying to portray something intricate and complex into a brash and brutish approach to problems. Even the attempt at intricacy can be seen through as having little substance.

I can go on and on about how bad this is but what is the point. I got to thinking that maybe it was written at that period of time where things were simpler, that the capacity of imagination of human behavior was perhaps not as complex. But then again I think, there are so many better book written before that time. This book seems like a cheap imitation of Sherlock Holmes, there is no cunning at all. And where there is some semblance of wit and devise, it is absolutely ridiculous that one can see clearly through it for the absurdity. I feel it was written very mechanically, like the author was saying "now there needs to be some clever ploy here" and so "insert clever ploy". It is a collective of cliche moments strung together by paper thin story. Utter waste of my time.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Bone-Chiller

at the Garrick Theatre

Following description from ASN website.
This is a murder mystery with a touch of farce, will have you scratching your heads to solve the mystery and point the finger at the culprit. Thirteen people gather (no mean feat on Garrick's stage) for the reading of the late Josiah Travers will. Just who will be killed? Who did it? Who inherits the money?

I did not bother reading the synopsis for this when I went for it. I just seen the word murder and I was sold. And it really did not disappoint. It was wonderful, with light touches of funny between the episodes of serious scariness. The flow was perfect when moments of fear is dissipated gradually with humor, and halfway through that, it draws you straight in stark contrast back to the reality that there is murder going on. Also the pacing when things are to be revealed but then again, they drag it on a bit, really builds the tension and I in the audience really felt like going up to the stage and shaking the guy to ask him to just spill it already also. I think that's a sign of how involving it is.

It was a really nice story. And also the puzzles in the play were quite nicely done. The acting was also quite well-executed. All the characters did their American accents decently and their characters were quite believable. As a whole, I loved it start to finish and any unpolished point in the play can be overlooked because it was such a lovely experience.

 
 

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Ageless Body, Timeless Mind

by Deepak Chopra

I actually started reading this several months back but have only finished it now. It is a spiritual book and with that, I guess you cannot read it like a fiction. Really had to read it slowly and savour the advice.

This book in its essence, teaches one how to stay young and vibrant. He says a lot of things. And they are all very sensible. But I cannot remember all the things. I just remember three main things. Be in the present, love more, and meditate more. He lays out some very simple things that you can do. The things he says to do are not weird at all, and even if you do not believe in all this ageless body, timeless mind stuff, I think doing them served you well in your day to day things. Such as meditating everyday. Just taking maybe several minutes from each day and just calm yourself and empty your mind and breathe.

I got this book from the library. Now I'm thinking of buying it because it's the sort of stuff you can't really get from reading it just once. You just need to read it over and over till it sticks, and also not force it to stick in the meantime. When you have embodied the lessons here, I believe your life would be one that is richer and more fulfilling.

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More

by Roald Dahl

This is a book with several short stories by Roald Dahl. These are probably more aimed at grown ups, not for kids.

The Boy Who Talked With Animals
This story starts with a man who stays at a hotel in Jamaica. On the beach there was a turtle caught and a boy who wanted the turtle released as he was a special boy and he could understand the thoughts and feelings of animals. This story at the start, when he described Jamaican voodoo, really struck a nerve. I could really feel the spirit of it and the fear.

The Hitch-hiker
 Story of a guy who picks up a stranger and the adventures that followed along that car ride. This is one of my favourite stories. It shows how simplicity of plot and story can bring so much more to what a story can be. I love this story very much.

The Mildenhall Treasure
A true story of a labourer called Gordon Butcher who found ancient Roman artifacts while plowing some farmland. It just goes to show even some really exciting things can happen in real life, and when it does, it really is a story worth telling.

The Swan
This story is about some nasty redneck kids who tortured a poor boy who was their own age. And I thought this story was set in America by how it was written, but from the locations in the story, it was in the UK. Well it was still a very well-written story. And you really feel for the boy. So stories, even without some elaborate plot, when written so beautifully, you really still want to go on the journey.

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar
This of course is the crown jewel of the book. It is a very lovely story about a man, Henry Sugar, who while staying with a friend, finds a journal describing a great power by a man in India. The man, through intense meditation was able to see without his eyes. And with this journal, Henry Sugar wanted the same powers and so he entered in to a great dedication into meditation as well. From this experience he was successful and his life was never the same again.  This story has a lovely twist, deep and insightful I find of the human soul. And really what is important in life.

Lucky Break
A short autobiography by Roald Dahl of how he came about to writing. He actually never thought of writing and it was a pure accident when he returned from was with sever injuries and could no longer serve the British Airforce. He was then posted to work in America and was asked by a famous writer to talk about his experiences in the war. This was to encourage people to have support for their troops in the war. They discussed it through lunch and found it hard to be taking notes while eating at the same time. So Roald Dahl  promised to write down some notes so the author could write it down properly later. After finishing it, Roald Dahl sent it to the author and several weeks later got a reply. The author said he asked Dahl to write notes, not write the whole story! The author commended Dahl's work and sent it to the publishers without even any alterations and said to Dahl he was a very gifted writer, a gift very rare and should be appreciated. This was how Dahl began writing, by pure accident.

A Piece of Cake
This is the story Dahl ever written as was described in Lucky Break. It is about his experiences while posted in Greece and fighting against the Germans and Italians during WWII. Indeed it was very befitting the title, where his plane was shot down and he endured quite a lot of hardships, but his descriptions of them seem very matter-of-fact, and how could it be any other way. And so everything seemed to be 'a piece of cake' even though what he went through was quite dreadful. He had severe burns form crashing and had lost his nose. It did not particularly highlight any act of heroism but it really gave people a sense of what sort of experience being in a war was. Even from this first story, reading his latter work, you get a sense of his style of writing and how beautiful it is.

All this stories are wonderful, all different and special in their own way. Roald Dahl is one of my favourite writers. I could read his books over and over and still be mesmerized.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Intersection

                                                photograph by the-good-fella

Dots etched in time
Marking physical existence

Birth into white pearls
Iridescent and pure
Then change as quickly
Coloured by life and lesson

Dots shrink and wither
At times blur and dim
Others bright and glowing
Always changing
Never constant

Trailing dots traversing
A rippling wake follows
Touching those around
Recording memories

Dots crossing a million others
Their lines weave intricacies
Magnificent intertwining
Learning and teaching
Affecting and effecting

Circumstances permitting
Two dots intersect
Exact moment exact place
Kindred souls collide and amalgamate

Their lines entwine and fold
A thick slurry of hue
Most marvelous and bewitching
There they remain forever

James and the Giant Peach

by Roald Dahl

Reading this book for the dA competition which I have no idea what to write still. But at least finished reading another Dahl book. This is one of the least like out of all of Dahl books for me.

The story is about James Trotter whose parents were tragically so he had to move to stay with his Aunts, Spiker and Sponge. They treat him horribly and make him work day and night, not let him play with other children and even beat him. James was very, very sad. One day he meets a strange old man who give him a bag of magical crystals. After eating it the old man said, James would be the happiest boy in the world. As he rushed into the kitchen to prepare the crystals, he tripped and fell. All the crystals fell to the ground and was swallowed by the ground immediately. This cause the dead peach tree that the ground was on to produce a single peach which grew to be gigantic. This peach created a whole lot of peculiar things to happen and a wonderful adventure followed.

The problem I have with this book is firstly, the characters seem a bit scattered. Like the introduction of Cloud men very late in the book, and a major part at that made the story seemed patched together. And the old man that gave James the crystals were never seen again.

Second is one use style. He put the story as one peculiar thing led to another more peculiar thing, and another even more peculiar thing. Would have like to see that he used this 'peculiarity' as marker for each phase of peculiar events.

Lastly I think there was an overuse of songs and rhymes. A certain amount is entertaining but having too much just sort of breaks the pace of the story, which I would prefer to be a hundred miles an hour!

All in all, it is still a Dahl book so the standard of writing is always there and the story is also typical Dahl-esque. Quite enjoyable.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Forever in Blue

the fourth summer of the sisterhood

by Ann Brashares

This is the fourth book of the series and is absolutely wonderful. The story is about four friends; Bridgette, Carmen, Lena and Tibby who found this pair of jeans in a thrift store several summers ago. And it has through the summers kept them close together, its magic has helped them through their troubles. And also at a physical level the jeans fit all four of them perfectly!

In this book, the sisterhood has been separated due to their different commitments. Bridgette is off to Turkey for an archaeological dig, Tibby is in film school and sorting out his relationship with Brian, Carmen is finding her footing with her identity, and Lena is in art school and handling her relationship with Kostos.

Well, firstly the story is great. Even though I'm not a girl but I can still relate to what each of the characters is going through. And even not, you feel for them and their lives.

On a writing level, well I love all the quotes in between these chapters for all these books. And the pacing of all four characters are perfect. It's just the sort of book you never want to end and just keep on reading and reading and reading. Alas, the ending is wonderful too.

This book is touching, lovely and beautiful. Pants = love.

What Did He Say?!?


                                                                    graphic by Hardy-Herring


One upon a time in a forest far far away. a little chick was born. He was different from all the other chicks. While they chirped away, the little chick was silent. Not a chirp, even a single chirp ever came out from him. For this he was made fun of. Even the older roosters and hens found the little chick strange for being so quiet.

Because of this, the little chick's parents were very protective of him and always kept him close by. His mother told him he would grow up to be intelligent and special. His father told him he would grow up to be big and strong. But he still did not see how he could be intelligent as he still could not chirp a single chirp no matter how hard he tried. He also did not see how he could be big and strong as he was still the smallest chick no matter how hard he tried to grow. He was only glad that his parents loved him very much.

And so as time passed the little chick grew up to be a rooster. His father was wrong as he did not grow up to be big and strong. He was a tiny rooster. But what he lacked in size and strength,  he made up in speed and agility. The hens and roosters he grew up with never had a kind word for him. Even the little chicks now would tease him too. So his speed and agility served well to help him run and dodge the bullying he always faced. His mother was partly correct that he was an intelligent rooster, though he still could never chirp, and for that matter, not produce a single cock-a-doodle-doo. As hard as he tried, only strange gurgling sounds would come out.

Even though he was all grown up, he was still alone and spent most of his time wandering the forest alone. One morning he stumbled upon a group of hunters. This was the first time he ever saw human beings. When he was with his parents, they would never have allowed him to venture so close to hunters because more than anything, the hunters loved to catch wild chicken for dinner. But the rooster having never seen human beings before was curious and moved closer. He was extremely silent and given that he could never make a single sound, he found it rather easy. The hunters were speaking very loudly to each other. They seem to be disagreeing about something. The rooster was very interested in the hunters. and so decided to follow them around.

The hunters had just started for the day. They would venture into the forest hoping to catch something  for dinner. The rooster thought they must not be very good hunters as they went through the whole day without catching a single thing! That may be due to them shouting at each other all day long, scaring away all the animals in the forest. It was the most exciting day the rooster had had in a long time.

The next day, the same bunch of hunters returned again and went into the forest. And again the rooster followed them from behind. And again they did not catch anything on account of the raucous they were making. This happened the next day, and the day after also. The rooster so obsessed with the hunters, followed them every day.

However on the fifth day, something peculiar happened. While listening to them shouting at each other, he found the human sounds forming and bubbling in his head. And just like that, the sounds from the hunters changed to something clear. He could understand what they were saying! And boy, did he wish he did not understand. Because what they said was simply nasty and awful. Let's just say they revolved a lot around the word Fuck!


"Fuck this tree!" said one hunter tripping over a branch.

"Fuck the stupid birds!" said another because they still could not catch a single thing.

"Fuck the sun!" said the next wiping away the sweat on his face.

"Fuck you George!" said one to the other who bumped into his back.

"Fuck everything!" said the one in front.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" said the one trailing behind.


The rooster hearing all this rude nastiness decided to block it all out and stop listening. And as simple as that, the words now deflated and fizzled, and once again, all he heard was the hunters making angry noises again. The rooster was relieved of this. As the sun went down, again the hunters ended  the day with empty hands. The rooster decided to return to his brood to rest for the night.

Just as the hunters were leaving a sly fox entered the forest. He had traveled from the chicken farms but could not get any food there. Even for all his slyness, the farmers had grown wise to his ways and so he could not find any way to get in. The fox was now desperately hungry.

He went deeper and deeper into the forest and finally came across the brood of chicken. And it was just in time for dinner. Oh, how his mouth watered. He imagined the delicious chicken, some plump and juicy, others lean and tasty. All of them wonderful.

The sly fox was patient and planned his attack. He would wait till they were all asleep and roosting. Then he would jump on the lower branches and climb up the tree to pick any chicken as he pleased. So he hid until the sun went all the way down and the moon was bright in the sky.

The fox shifted from tree to tree in amazing stealth, as only a fox as sly as him could. He saw in the moonlight a low hanging branch and hopped onto it. Then the next branch. And another. Then several more until he saw three chickens roosting on a branch together. He sneaked up on them very quiet and slow. He was close now. Two more steps. And he was there. He raised a paw ready to strike...


"Fuck!" someone shouted.


The fox jumped in fright and almost fell off the tree. But he was just able to wrap himself around the branch at the very last moment. He stabled himself and looked around. He listened for footsteps and there was none. He thought he must have imagined it from being too hungry. So he approached again ready to strike. This time...

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" came from the forest.

The fox jumped again. There was not mistaking it this time. There was a hunter around! The three chicken stirred with all the commotion. They saw the the fox and started making the loudest raucous any chicken had ever made. Imagine finding a fox ready to eat you right beside where you were sleeping. The noise woke up all the other chicken and they started clucking too.

The fox in a state of panic, leaped down from the tree and made a mad dash for it. The thought to himself it wasn't worth risking his neck being strung by hunters over dinner. He ran and ran until he was all out of breath and stopped. He thought to himself then, what luck he had that even the chicken in the forest were guarded.

Back at the brood, some of the hens and roosters who were light sleepers had heard the hunter's noise and pleaded all the chicken be quiet so they would be safe from the hunter. They heard thescreaming of the hunter continue to go on.


"Fuck! Fuck!" it cried.


Then the mother hen noticed the human voice was coming from right beside her and it frightened  her terribly. She cocked her head in the direction and was ready for flight...


"Fuck!"


She saw the noise was coming from her son. She woke her son up and asked him to be quiet and stop frightening all the other chicken. He stirred from his nightmare of the nasty hunters he was following the past few days.

By then all the curious chicken had gathered around the tree of the rooster and his parents. The father explained what had happened to them. The elder hens and roosters were mad and asked the son to be banished from the brood. The rooster's parents pleaded them not to as he was their only child. Then three chickens stepped forwards and explained that if it was not for the rooster they would have all been eaten that night by the sly fox, and they were thankful for his unique gift.

So, the rooster was not banished. Even better, they all treated him with respect after that and did not tease him anymore. There was none more proud than his parents to see their son find his place in the brood. Indeed his mother was right when she told him he was unique, for although he did not cluck nor cock-a-doodle-dooed, he was all very well to say



Fuck!



Wednesday, July 7, 2010

With You Always

                                                                                                                            graphic by Zhban4ik
 
I know you love me. I love you too. Maybe you do not know me well.  But I am sure you feel me. Do not be jealous because I am loved by many. I love you as much as the others. Perhaps I should explain better. I shall share with you a little bit about myself, knowing a little of what I am perhaps would help you understand better what I am, love me a bit more for it.

The young ones come to me when they watch scary movies and later when they cannot sleep from nightmares. They look for me under the bed, in the closet, outside their half shut windows. I love children. They are so innocent, so easy to please. Just a little effort, half a shadow or an ugly face, and they are terrified. Lovely, my most appreciative audience.

But you grown ups, oh you silly bunch. Don't think I have forgotten you. You try to put on a strong face but deep down inside I know you feel it. Simple thrills don't do it for you anymore. All the more pleasing for me to be a little creative. The deep lingering feeling when you don't know what lies behind the door. The drip...drip...drip of the faucet late at night when you know there is no one around. Well, that's not quite true. I am around. You walk slowly and quietly towards it. As if that would make any difference. Okay, I will play along. After all, there's much fun to be had in the anticipation. Then you shut the faucet tight, it yields a little and the dripping stops. You turn and get back to your business. But just as you turn, it starts dripping again. Oh what lovely. What ever could it be? You know you shut it tight, heck you just fixed the damn thing several weeks back. You look at it and it stops. You stand there silent listening some more. Then what do I do? I come out of the faucet and strangle you to your watery death, watching your eyes bulge with more and more white and you skin turning purple. You struggle all over in spasms. Or do I emit a sharp edge and slice your throat over and over till your skin is so exposed, there is no more skin, only a lovely crimson patch. But no. I do not do any of those. Don't doubt I can do it, because I can. But  like I said. I love you. It wouldn't be any more fun if you simply just died would it. No, just having you think those things makes me happy enough. Oh, you really love me too don't you. Why else would you think what I would do with you.

You embrace me when you are uncertain, not knowing the future, when they question intentions of others. Oh I am always there for all, cradling you in my arms. Just accept me, I will always be there, whether you like it or not. Even if you don't love me. I will be there.

Hear me out. Let me profess this love to you. At night, I hug you. Some nights lightly, some nights real tight and snug. During the day, I know you are busy. So I keep quiet and let you go about it but when night comes, I will come to you again. I gave you your time, it's not fair you do not tend to me even after your busy day. On your way home, you look to the left and to the right. What are you looking for? I am there always with you. When you walk the dark dingy street, I will walk with you. Along the side walkway, the light brush of the bush which grew astray. It sent a shiver through your arm and down your spine. I felt it too! It felt lovely. I know you thought of me then. You look around, you couldn't see anyone. But you really should know, I was with you.

Oh, sometimes you are so silly. Which makes me love you more. What I love most about you is sometimes you surprise me, you delight me even though I do not even try. Calling me at the most unexpected times, though I am always happy to oblige. I will always come running without fail.

So fear not....I mean do fear. For I will always be with you.

The Sun

                                 graphic by upadanasaddha

It was pitch dark. Dark and still, waiting. To prickle the most stark contrast, for the most grand entrance. Then he came. The sun, He peaked across the horizon and slowly rose up to bask the new lands in His golden glow. He let everyone enjoy His magnificence. Slow but steady He said to himself, they love me I will let them feel my glory. He concentrated very hard to shine brightly and move at the regal pace for everyone on Earth to notice Him. Then by noon He had risen to his throne on the highest peak of the clouds in the sky. There He sat looking over the world. He was proud and happy with himself. Now everyone can see Me. So he looked down on the world and all its people. But everyone paid no attention to him. No one looked at him and he asked why? Why do they not love me? Perhaps if I shone more my beautiful warmth they will notice me more. So the Sun shone harder and hotter. And forests burnt and the sea boiled. Then people started complaining and crying over their plight. Why does the Sun punish us so. The Sun was so angry, that His gift was so unappreciated by the people that He said fine, I shall not shine so hard then, then they will miss me. From this lands froze and crops did not grow and many of the people died. Again the people cursed the Sun for being so cruel and tempestuous. And the Sun was so angry at the people that he decided to leave altogether. He said goodbye to all the people. He came down from his throne and slowly descended across the horizon. Then it was pitch dark again. But know this. The sun, he is fast to anger and fast to forget. And for as proud as he is, he is lonely. So tomorrow again he begins his toils for another day.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Forever and After

I think of the day we lay by the beach and stare at the sea, stretching to the left and right as far as my eye can see. I look at you, stare into your eyes. Even in our old age now, the twinkle in your eye it never fades, and the smile on your face even through all these years, it looks the same. I grab your arm and hold you close. I cannot be happier and do not regret, because I have you. And that is all I need, because I love you.

I recall the day I met you so many years ago now. It was a Thursday afternoon. You had that same smile on your face, sweet and unassuming. You were sitting in the public library at the table across from mine. I dare not speak to you. How weird for me to just walk up to you and speak. You must think I me weird. But I could not take my eyes off you. and continued staring stupidly. Your long black hair smooth as silk pinned on one side. I assure you, if it was any other girl I would just walk up and say something. But you were different, I just could not find the words, they seemed caught in my throat. And wasn't I surprised when you stood up and walked towards me. My heart beating like a jackhammer, my tongue rolled up in my throat. I thought I was going to choke and have a hear attack at the same time. Maybe you were just walking away, why would you notice me. But you did and you sat write next to me and started talking to me. I was so nervous I could hardly remember the words and what we were talking about now. All I remember now is your lovely eyes and smile. I was mesmerized.

It gave me strength. After that afternoon with you in the library, I believed I could do anything and I could stop. For once, I thought I could stop and did not have to find the rush anymore. I truly did. I spent the next 2 days absolutely happy, not another thought in my head. Then I remembered something grievously stupid. I had not taken your number. How am I to ever find you again? My heart sank into my stomach. What now, I met the love of my life and now I shall never see you again. No. This cannot be. I must see you.

And I really did try hard after that. After classes, I would stop by the library every chance I could in hopes you would be there. What did you do? Where did you live? Where did you come from? Why did it not come up in our conversation? Maybe it did, and I just was too nervous then to hear anything. So  I waited. I waited and waited, and I was sure to be there every Thursday afternoon. I did this for 2 month and you were not there.

Then the thoughts, they started coming back again. The urges, I saw it everywhere I went, I could not help it. I tried not to think of it, but every time I did I would start thinking of you. And that hurt even worse. So I resigned myself again to my dark thoughts. The urges, they became too strong. I saw it, smelled it, taste it all around.

Then one night, I was walking home one evening and  it was dark. The street lights seemed very dim. So I barely saw him at first in the alleyway, but then he called up in his drunkenness for money. He wanted more to drink. I just ignored him and he started shouting abuses at me. I continued to walk on. I turned to look back and saw this object flying towards me. I dodged and the object grazed past my arm and crashed a couple of feet in front of me with a crash of broken glass. I looked at my arm. It was bleeding. My heart started racing and I really could take it no longer. I looked at my grazed arm and touched the red liquid trickling out. The blood, oh the blood. Delicious blood. Sweet as sugar but irony too. I couldn't stop. I sucked at my arm. I was gone now in euphoria. I no longer heard the abuses the drunkard was shouting. I walked slowly towards him, so as to not scare him away. Then when I was close enough, I made  for his head and slamming him to the ground. I pulled out my pocket knife and sliced his jugular. Oh the sweet red nectar, it just kept flowing out. I craved it again. I needed it. And the screaming, I loved the scream.  But his scream receded into gurgles after several moments, drowning in his own blood. It made me feel alive again. I drank and drank, to my heart's content. When I stopped, I was satisfied. It was 2 months since my last drink. Then I remembered why I stopped, because of you. And I was sad again. I made my way home after and slept a restless sleep.

Of course there were others after that man in the alley. There was the late night waitress, the old man on the way back from bingo night, the night jogger. Oh, and also the little boy by the river. They were all delicious of course. But every time after drinking I would think of you. No matter how hard I tried, it always came back to you.

So you know how I felt, when I saw you again. Two years later in the cafe around the corner from my apartment then I saw you again. You were sat at a table across from mine with your friends. I thought to myself, there is no more time for nervousness. This was as good a time as any to be brave. I found you again and would not let go of this miracle. I went up to you and said hi. And you looked at me with your intense eyes. For a moment, I stood there silly as you looked me up and down. I opened my mouth trying to speak.  But again, the words escape me. You made it easy, you remembered me. You apologized and said your goodbyes to your friends, grabbed my arm and led me away. We spent the afternoon sitting on the bench by the river talking, then I walked you home. At your door, I remembered to get your number this time. And just before leaving, I looked into your deep brown eyes. I leaned over, our eyes slowly closed and touched your soft warm lips with mine. We kissed for the very first time. And I knew then, you were all I needed from that moment on.

Of course I still think of it from time to time. Oh, the sweetness of the blood. I even remembered once you cut your hand with the kitchen knife. I rushed over and sucked at your thumb and you laughed. Oh, how sweet it was! The sweetest I ever tasted. But even then, no, never again. I would never harm you.

The sun is setting now. Falling under the sea and the redness fills the sky. And I look at you and kiss you. It still feels the same way as the first time I kissed you. I cannot be happier and do not regret, because I have you. And that is all I need, because I love you. Forever and after.

Danny the Champion of the World

by Roald Dahl

Another wonderful book by Roald Dahl. I love this one a lot, as much as Matilda and BFG. This book is about Danny and his dad. I love this story very much. Even though it is simple, it's really lovely and heart warming. The way he talks about curling up with a hot choc, makes you want to do it to. And also, makes you remember what's really important in life. Anyways the main plot is this. Danny's a boy whose mother passed away young. So he is raised by his dad. They own a pump station and garage, and do many wonderful thigns together. One day his dad tells him a deep dark secret and obsession. He loves poaching! And after that he teaches Danny lots about poaching. And the largest field for it is owned by the mean Mr. Hazzell. So Danny comes up with an ingenious plan to get the better of Mr. Hazzell and his pheasants. Wonderful adventure this book is. Lovely. And again lovely illustration by Quentin Blake.

George's Marvellous Medicine

by Roald Dahl

Read this several days ago. Well, I've always loved Roald Dahl so pulled it from the library and read it again. This one's about George, a little boy who has a nasty grandma. So 'improves' his grandma's medicine with his own marvellous recipe. It causes weird things to happen to the grandma. Then he tries it on his father's farmyard animals also and amazing things happened. His dad was really happy. And in the end, well the ending was marvellous also. Marvellous book! And also I absolutely love Quentin Blake's illustrations.

The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success

by Deepak Chopra

Right, so it's not I haven't been reading. I just haven't been blogging. So first one, is this. It's a short little book. Really nice and insightful. Kind of book that's meant to be kept in your pocket or some place nearby anyways. You can just pull it out and have a short read and be enlightened on the spot. It's like your mini dose of spirituality should you need it throughout the day. Good book anyways, the whole thing takes only an hour to read. So good for people with ADHD also.