Dear Reader,
Hello once again. The stupid exams are finally over, and sadly, despite all the studying I did pathetically. Plus, I’m doing pretty well at the Medical Entrance Institution, 2nd or 3rd in every test. And in school I’m barely passing. It sucks. Tonight, I shall let you in with how I celebrated the ending of the exams and the classic Manchester Derby that I witnessed today. So, without any further ado I shall start.
The half-yearlies ended this Friday. I hadn’t asked for permission to go out from Mother and wasn’t bothered asking either. This led to a shouting bout early in the morning between us; in the end after getting pretty pissed she gave me some money and asked me to give a definite time as to when I shall enter the fortified walls of the house. I said 4 with no plan in mind whatsoever. I went to school and met with a few people who I though I’d go along with. The two Sh brothers, Julian and Tranquil among them. I did not want to drink so the Sh brothers were dismissed. Tranquil was going with complete snobs and fakes who I don’t want to have anything to do with, at least for now. Julian and Chopie were going far away to Noida for a night spend for which I did not have permission. So, that plan was fucked too.
I had it in the back of my mind that spending the day by myself wouldn’t be that bad. Therefore, I turned to this feeling. Caught the bus back home and got off at Ambience mall, went to the KFC there, bought a Zing Kong Box and sat down to eat by myself. And you know what, it was enjoyable. I hadn’t been so free for a long time. I had money in my pocket and 3 hours to be by myself. Weirdly I found this quite elating. I took an auto to IFFCO Chowk and took another stuffed fucking auto till Rajiv Chowk. I reckon I finished 6-7 cigarettes in these 20 minutes. I took a rickshaw then to my supplier. Must have been a 30 minute cycle, where I reached a total of 10 fags. On the way I realized that company disgusts me, everyone such a hypocrite and shallow that it can’t be laughed off anymore. I got off, and a new guy gave it to me this time, a old man who affectionately is called ‘Tau’. I took four packs of 100 bucks and one big one for 150. On the way back home I made an untidy little joint for myself, and trust me this is the best my lungs have ever tasted. They were in joy by half of it. I bought another pack of fags for home and was home by 3 o’clock. An hour before. I guess the folks were pretty impressed, as this is quite unlike my usual thing.
These series of events made me feel like Holden Caulfield. It was pretty cool.
I was lying down when mum came and asked me if I wanted to go for a party, where Tranquil’s family would be too. I called Tranquil, Olaf picked up and the dick told me that Tranquil wouldn’t come. So I didn’t go. And when my parents got back they told me he had come. It’s been a long time since I’ve met him at such a party. That got screwed too.
Amazing way to celebrate the end of exams, huh?
Now to the match.
First, the filthy hypocrites can fuck off. Manchester City are cocky and today’s performance justified it. I won’t be a disgrace on a football fan and agree that United deserved the three points willingly. But, you must accept that City is finally a force in the league, they played some pretty heady football today. Illogical refereeing in the end, pathetic judgment of time. Fuck it. We’ve finally lost the first game of the season, and are yet only 3 points behind are cross town rivals plus we have another game in hand.
Show us and the Manchester derby some respect now Ferguson and all you glory hunting United fans.
But, easily the classiest game the season had had yet.
So long for now, I’ll write again in a while. Goodnight. I shall now go and use what’s left of Friday’s stock.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
An Ode To MJ (The Singer)
Dear Reader,
This hasn't been written by me. It's been written by Tranquil's God aka Jon Lajoie. But, it's a perfectly written tribute to the King/Queen of Pop.
I'm not getting time to write owing to the very irritating half yearlies. Exams are pointless.
Bear with the tribute till then.
"Oh my god, did you hear about Michael Jackson?"
"Yeah, I heard about Michael Jackson. It's crazy, right?"
"Yeah, I can't believe it. All of a sudden, the media is on HIS side."
"I know, it's crazy, right?"
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
"Michael Jackson's such a freak!"
You hear it a thousand times a week,
on every fuckin' TV screen,
and every fuckin' magazine.
Yeah sure we liked him for a while,
for a few years when he was in style,
then someone said "he's a pedophile
and fuckin' boys is what makes him smile."
Then there was a punchline every day,
about his "skeletor-like face"
and how he "loves 12 year old balls"
We didn't care if it was true or false.
So don't pretend that you give a fuck,
keep talking 'bout how "he sucked 12 year old cock,
and went from being a cute little black kid,
and died as a white skeleton robot."
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
Remember when he dangled his kid from a balcony,
I wasn't hearin' you call him legendary,
And when we heard that shit about the Culkin kid,
We said "Oh my god, Jacko's motherfuckin' sick!"
"He likes fuckin' kids! He likes fuckin' kids!"
Nobody was talkin 'bout his music.
Now if I said he died chokin' on a kid's dick, you'd say
"Oh my god, that's so offensive!"
Well fuck you, you motherfuckin' cunt ass bitch,
Everyone in the news you hear from motherfucking cribs,
On your high horse sayin' that I'm a demon,
'Cause I say "you overdosed on a boy's semen."
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
"Oh, it's so sad that Michael passed away,
we loved him so much!"
Really, really, did you love him? Because from where I'm standing, it kinda sounds like you HATED him, and that you called him a freak, and that you wanted him to die. But now that he's dead, you love him, and "he's a legend," and "he's so amazing, oh we love Michael Jackson!"
How about you go FUCK yourself, you big bunch of fuckin' hypocrites. Here, I'm gonna do this for you, I'm gonna do this for you.
"Billy Jean was not his lover,
of course she wasn't, she had a vagina,
She was older than 12 years old..."
Fuck you, hypocrites!
-R.I.P Michael-
-I hope there are little boys up in heaven-
-Oh fuck off! It's a joke..-
-Fucker-
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
This hasn't been written by me. It's been written by Tranquil's God aka Jon Lajoie. But, it's a perfectly written tribute to the King/Queen of Pop.
I'm not getting time to write owing to the very irritating half yearlies. Exams are pointless.
Bear with the tribute till then.
"Oh my god, did you hear about Michael Jackson?"
"Yeah, I heard about Michael Jackson. It's crazy, right?"
"Yeah, I can't believe it. All of a sudden, the media is on HIS side."
"I know, it's crazy, right?"
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
"Michael Jackson's such a freak!"
You hear it a thousand times a week,
on every fuckin' TV screen,
and every fuckin' magazine.
Yeah sure we liked him for a while,
for a few years when he was in style,
then someone said "he's a pedophile
and fuckin' boys is what makes him smile."
Then there was a punchline every day,
about his "skeletor-like face"
and how he "loves 12 year old balls"
We didn't care if it was true or false.
So don't pretend that you give a fuck,
keep talking 'bout how "he sucked 12 year old cock,
and went from being a cute little black kid,
and died as a white skeleton robot."
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
Remember when he dangled his kid from a balcony,
I wasn't hearin' you call him legendary,
And when we heard that shit about the Culkin kid,
We said "Oh my god, Jacko's motherfuckin' sick!"
"He likes fuckin' kids! He likes fuckin' kids!"
Nobody was talkin 'bout his music.
Now if I said he died chokin' on a kid's dick, you'd say
"Oh my god, that's so offensive!"
Well fuck you, you motherfuckin' cunt ass bitch,
Everyone in the news you hear from motherfucking cribs,
On your high horse sayin' that I'm a demon,
'Cause I say "you overdosed on a boy's semen."
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
"Oh, it's so sad that Michael passed away,
we loved him so much!"
Really, really, did you love him? Because from where I'm standing, it kinda sounds like you HATED him, and that you called him a freak, and that you wanted him to die. But now that he's dead, you love him, and "he's a legend," and "he's so amazing, oh we love Michael Jackson!"
How about you go FUCK yourself, you big bunch of fuckin' hypocrites. Here, I'm gonna do this for you, I'm gonna do this for you.
"Billy Jean was not his lover,
of course she wasn't, she had a vagina,
She was older than 12 years old..."
Fuck you, hypocrites!
-R.I.P Michael-
-I hope there are little boys up in heaven-
-Oh fuck off! It's a joke..-
-Fucker-
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Shrines In My Cupboard.
Dear Reader,
Due to a whole lot of indecision on my part and pressure to come up with new posts by you readers, I decided to write about all the three names my last post ended with. This decision has been reached after long hours of thinking while staring at the graffitied wall opposite of my very cushiony bed. I figured as Frank has a shrine of Billie Joe stashed in his infamous, now broken, ‘PANSY’ and Gee can’t help but referring to Green Day in his somewhat touching quotes, I’m actually doing them justice by including them in a single post. So, here it goes..
Billie Joe Armstrong! I shall let you judge him by saying something of the sort that he would say, “Fuck off! If you don’t then you’re not worth a fuck to me.”
Gerard Arthur Way is a moody bastard. He would sometimes call you his baby & order you to call him daddy or tell you to stop pissing your life off & go find a purpose to live.
Frank Iero! Hahaha! This man, if it’s safe to call him one, would go crazy on anything he lays his eyes on, your mum included, he would even hump your favorite teddy relentlessly in front of your pleading eyes.
However demented or retarded they may seem to you, they’re the least fake people you’ll ever hear of. Billie Joe IS Green Day and the other two are from the greatest comic book band to ever have walked on Earth, My Chemical Romance. Two bands which are synonymous for writing their own songs and making their own music unlike boy bands of today who have their lyrics written by half crazy ladies who come shrieking with lawsuits a year after the album release. Plus, unlike those wusses everything isn’t planned beforehand, like what they have to say on stage, the way they have to dance and the gay sex they need to have after the ending of the concert. BJ, Frank and Gee speak what they want not giving a shit about what the world thinks of their hairless chests.
Now I’ll fill you in with useless crap, which only a few will be interested in. Frank and Gerard smoke Marlboro Reds. Billie Joe Armstrong has/had a slight partial behavior towards his second wife, Mary Jane. Frank instead of a Bible keeps a copy of ‘The Cather in the Rye’ in his bedside cupboard & Gerard favorite comic book ever is ‘Watchmen by Alan Moore.’
What made them the shrines in my cupboard?
I owe Billie Joe for having taught me not to care and be myself. I learned to get up and come back stronger from Gerard. Frank made me impulsive and showed me how to not give a shit about what the world thinks of what you do.
They’ve done so much more for me other than being good teachers. Billie Joe wrote me an album called ‘American Idiot’, he just changed my nationality and name to avoid a lawsuit being thrown at him (I’m shameless.) Gerard wrote a comic book with my liking at the back of his mind which he named ‘The Umbrella Academy’. Frank did me the hugest favor; he made himself look kinda like me.
I shall repay the generosity they’ve shown towards me by fashioning my own band on them and writing things that would make their chest swell up with pride.
Thank you and all the crap I write at the end.
With All Due Respect,
Esh Dec In
Due to a whole lot of indecision on my part and pressure to come up with new posts by you readers, I decided to write about all the three names my last post ended with. This decision has been reached after long hours of thinking while staring at the graffitied wall opposite of my very cushiony bed. I figured as Frank has a shrine of Billie Joe stashed in his infamous, now broken, ‘PANSY’ and Gee can’t help but referring to Green Day in his somewhat touching quotes, I’m actually doing them justice by including them in a single post. So, here it goes..
Billie Joe Armstrong! I shall let you judge him by saying something of the sort that he would say, “Fuck off! If you don’t then you’re not worth a fuck to me.”
Gerard Arthur Way is a moody bastard. He would sometimes call you his baby & order you to call him daddy or tell you to stop pissing your life off & go find a purpose to live.
Frank Iero! Hahaha! This man, if it’s safe to call him one, would go crazy on anything he lays his eyes on, your mum included, he would even hump your favorite teddy relentlessly in front of your pleading eyes.
However demented or retarded they may seem to you, they’re the least fake people you’ll ever hear of. Billie Joe IS Green Day and the other two are from the greatest comic book band to ever have walked on Earth, My Chemical Romance. Two bands which are synonymous for writing their own songs and making their own music unlike boy bands of today who have their lyrics written by half crazy ladies who come shrieking with lawsuits a year after the album release. Plus, unlike those wusses everything isn’t planned beforehand, like what they have to say on stage, the way they have to dance and the gay sex they need to have after the ending of the concert. BJ, Frank and Gee speak what they want not giving a shit about what the world thinks of their hairless chests.
Now I’ll fill you in with useless crap, which only a few will be interested in. Frank and Gerard smoke Marlboro Reds. Billie Joe Armstrong has/had a slight partial behavior towards his second wife, Mary Jane. Frank instead of a Bible keeps a copy of ‘The Cather in the Rye’ in his bedside cupboard & Gerard favorite comic book ever is ‘Watchmen by Alan Moore.’
What made them the shrines in my cupboard?
I owe Billie Joe for having taught me not to care and be myself. I learned to get up and come back stronger from Gerard. Frank made me impulsive and showed me how to not give a shit about what the world thinks of what you do.
They’ve done so much more for me other than being good teachers. Billie Joe wrote me an album called ‘American Idiot’, he just changed my nationality and name to avoid a lawsuit being thrown at him (I’m shameless.) Gerard wrote a comic book with my liking at the back of his mind which he named ‘The Umbrella Academy’. Frank did me the hugest favor; he made himself look kinda like me.
I shall repay the generosity they’ve shown towards me by fashioning my own band on them and writing things that would make their chest swell up with pride.
Thank you and all the crap I write at the end.
With All Due Respect,
Esh Dec In
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
A-Tree.
Dear Reader,
Owing to the disappointing response to my idea of a thread comment on a random statement I make, I have hereby decided to scrape that idea. I shall stick to writing the way I earlier did except for there being other things which shall be talked about besides what’s happening in my life. ‘Other things’, here means, the pitiful state my dear country is in, my musical tastes and a few people who I can safely call my idols. The manner of writing shall piss you off to such an extent that you will happily resort to self abuse. Self abuse like listening to Taylor Swift for an hour continuously with the full backing of your brain and neurons. I, on the other hand shall spend that time watching ‘Fight Club’ and praise Edward Norton’s extraordinary acting skills in front of you to rub salt on your ‘Taylor’ made wounds. Haha! Enough of my feeble attempts at being funny. Oh, by the way this time I vaguely have an idea for the material of this post. A pathetically boring read is promised to you reader.
At the end of my last post I mentioned having a girlfriend (Poor girl, I know.) This young, pitiable lady has a slight obsession with nature, so I shall name her A-TREE! This name remarkably sounds a lot like her real name.
She is the very definition of a normal 16 year old school going girl. “My mum doesn’t let me go for parties. Waa! I WANT TO GO!”, “I love you, don’t ever leave me.”, “Those guys are so lucky, their parents are so cool.” and immature nonsense of that sort.
But, she’s sweet, can write a tiny bit, loves me (Or so she thinks), is faithful and is a little kid. Therefore, I love her (I’m capable of love).
I met her in the coaching classes I attend for the Pre-Medical Examinations I shall be giving in a year and a half’s time. I went there with a hope of being left alone and strong belief that the girl’s there wouldn’t be worth a second glance. So, when I went there, as planned, I looked stoned, wearing black with messy hair and sat down extremely sleepy. I sat on the second last bench with the wall for casual support. To my surprise and to that of the three girls sitting in the first bench peeking looks and giggling, there were decent people in a class whose majority was of Jats. Only one of those girls caught my eye and she ended up as the A-Tree on this blog and the person I love.
She’s unlike anything I’ve had before. I’ve thought that I was in love earlier with a variety of girls. Some who connected with me at a paranormal level, some who were snobs, and some who were just shameless bitches. Her father is in the Merchant Navy like my father and her mother is as pressing as mine, so we can say that we have the same kind of upbringing. We don’t share the same musical taste or the liking of authors or the cynicism I posses. But, nonetheless we gel quite well. I’m patient and she’s submissive.
No matter if I end up sounding like a stupid starry eyed kid, I really do hope I end up with her for a long long time.
Thank you for having read something that is of no help and is just useless information. The next post shall be about either Billie Joe Armstrong or Gerard Way, or it might be about Frank Iero. You'll get to read it if I make up my mind.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Owing to the disappointing response to my idea of a thread comment on a random statement I make, I have hereby decided to scrape that idea. I shall stick to writing the way I earlier did except for there being other things which shall be talked about besides what’s happening in my life. ‘Other things’, here means, the pitiful state my dear country is in, my musical tastes and a few people who I can safely call my idols. The manner of writing shall piss you off to such an extent that you will happily resort to self abuse. Self abuse like listening to Taylor Swift for an hour continuously with the full backing of your brain and neurons. I, on the other hand shall spend that time watching ‘Fight Club’ and praise Edward Norton’s extraordinary acting skills in front of you to rub salt on your ‘Taylor’ made wounds. Haha! Enough of my feeble attempts at being funny. Oh, by the way this time I vaguely have an idea for the material of this post. A pathetically boring read is promised to you reader.
At the end of my last post I mentioned having a girlfriend (Poor girl, I know.) This young, pitiable lady has a slight obsession with nature, so I shall name her A-TREE! This name remarkably sounds a lot like her real name.
She is the very definition of a normal 16 year old school going girl. “My mum doesn’t let me go for parties. Waa! I WANT TO GO!”, “I love you, don’t ever leave me.”, “Those guys are so lucky, their parents are so cool.” and immature nonsense of that sort.
But, she’s sweet, can write a tiny bit, loves me (Or so she thinks), is faithful and is a little kid. Therefore, I love her (I’m capable of love).
I met her in the coaching classes I attend for the Pre-Medical Examinations I shall be giving in a year and a half’s time. I went there with a hope of being left alone and strong belief that the girl’s there wouldn’t be worth a second glance. So, when I went there, as planned, I looked stoned, wearing black with messy hair and sat down extremely sleepy. I sat on the second last bench with the wall for casual support. To my surprise and to that of the three girls sitting in the first bench peeking looks and giggling, there were decent people in a class whose majority was of Jats. Only one of those girls caught my eye and she ended up as the A-Tree on this blog and the person I love.
She’s unlike anything I’ve had before. I’ve thought that I was in love earlier with a variety of girls. Some who connected with me at a paranormal level, some who were snobs, and some who were just shameless bitches. Her father is in the Merchant Navy like my father and her mother is as pressing as mine, so we can say that we have the same kind of upbringing. We don’t share the same musical taste or the liking of authors or the cynicism I posses. But, nonetheless we gel quite well. I’m patient and she’s submissive.
No matter if I end up sounding like a stupid starry eyed kid, I really do hope I end up with her for a long long time.
Thank you for having read something that is of no help and is just useless information. The next post shall be about either Billie Joe Armstrong or Gerard Way, or it might be about Frank Iero. You'll get to read it if I make up my mind.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
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