Some clarification required.....

There were quite a few friends who misunderstood the previous entry I typed out....

It was not meant for the "JK" whose name had five alphabets in it, it was for the friend whose name had thirteen (yeah, most people don't know there was an "n" at the end). In case that still leaves you wondering, the "K" in "JK" stands for the first half of my real name.

Sorry 'bout the mix-up.

Edit:

Funny, isn't it? I never paid attention to the fact that even our names were almost the same.....JK, JK2, and me....

He truly was a "brother from another mother".

"JK" - A tribute

====================================

*** A picture is worth a thousand words ***

====================================

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Zilch. Zero. That's what went through my mind as I peered at him through the gap between the frame and the bolted door we had managed to push open a bit.

Guess it was my conviction that not one of my friends would be capable of such a thing - that prevented me from even comprehending what I was seeing. I knew how to pick 'em, right? I would never TRULY be friends with anyone who could do....what he did. A sound, strong, logical mind is something that I value over ANYTHING else in any person I........heh..........hang with. :)

And he had it. That's something I'm sure of, even now. What happened in those few hours when I was away is a mystery that I may never have the satisfaction of unravelling, but whatever problems he might have had, I know he had a good measure of both physical as well as mental strength. The guy could deal with anything. At least when I met and got to know him. I just never noticed that it was being eroded away due to reasons still unknown to me. I knew things weren't going good for him, but I had enough confidence in him. I knew he could overcome whatever it was life had to throw at him.

And that's why my mind just would not - no, could not - process the visual information streaming in through my eyes. It was almost as if I was staring at some optical illusion, staring at something that should not be.

There he was, right in front of me, bathed and shaved, dressed in a gleaming white shirt and a pair of blue jeans, looking quite decked out with his silver bracelet, silver double ring, and his thick silver necklace on - but there was something wrong, something that just would not register in my mind, at least not for a few hours. The faded orange mundu that he used to wear was knotted tightly around both the hook on the ceiling and his neck, his shoulders pulled back, chest spread out, and hands frozen into fists as a final gesture of his congenital and everlasting stubbornness, as if he was getting ready for his very last fight.....his feet, though, completely contradicted the upper three-quarters of his body - crossed over each other as if he was relaxing on his bed, completely at peace with himself, and the worn out part of his jeans touching the floor. One part of this mental image I prefer not to mention here was the part between the knotted mundu and the silver necklace, or rather chain, around his neck. That part of the image is reserved only for the people who had the misfortune to see it with their own eyes.

The few hours that followed are all a blur now, the flesh and blood processing unit above my shoulders was too busy trying to make sense of this....this anomaly, this thing, that was wrong with its model of the universe it perceived - and refused to go away or explain how or why it came to be, in the first place.

===================================

*** The last time on the road together ***

===================================

Slashing up the mundu and laying him down on the floor. Covering him up. Carrying him five floors down with five other people. Putting him in the ambulance.

All of the above seemed like torture while I was doing it, but it was only just about to begin.

The faint but distinct smell of a body that was starting to decompose, was emanating through his clothes and the thick layers of blankets that he had been covered with. It was nothing in comparison to the smells that would later bombard my olfactory system at the mortuary, but it was made stronger by the realization that this was the guy I had done around two thousand kilometers on my bike with, under the sun and the moon, through the dust and the smoke, and, of course, sans sleet and snow, regrettably - rain - in a city not more than fifty or sixty kilometers in diameter (I guess...), in the span of a year. This was my friend, my partner in crime - lying there without any life in him, the stench of decay filling my nostrils and turning my head into mush....

Heat. Like in a pressure cooker or microwave oven. Extreme hunger. The smell of death. Tears in my eyes and snot in my nose. Spit and the contents of a can of R3d Bu|_|_ in my stomach welling up and being forced back down every few seconds. Eyes watering. Other motorists honking. The van shaking from side to side, front and back, the siren screaming, the driver trying to get to the morgue ASAP.

I must've spent an hour or so in the van like that, and just when I had given up hope of being able to refrain from splattering the drink-named-after-an-unnaturally-colored-bovine all over the already-dirty floor, we pulled into the hospital complex - some plants by the side near the wall of the mortuary got a heavy dose of nutrients originally meant for humans a few seconds after the back door was flung open.

====================

*** The meat locker ***

====================

That's the only way I can describe it. A meat locker next to a garbage dump filled with who knows what.

Nausea. Heat. Spitting all over the place. Going in with the others and trying to make sense of what they were talking to the hospital personnel about, in vain. The long wait in the hot sun, in the proximity of the garbage dump and the naked, mutilated dead. People crying for their loved ones.

The first thing I see through a broken window is a naked human body on a steel table - the abdomen being ripped open with a knife and the intestines being taken out and placed in a big steel bowl, one handful at a time - the scalp peeled forward, the skull being cracked open with a hammer and chisel, and the brains being taken out and placed in another big steel bowl. I realized that the body on the table would, in an hour's time, be the same one in the ambulance.

==================

*** The long night ***

==================

The packed bags lay strewn around the colleagues' apartment we had decided to move into for the time being. The doors were shut and the windows - closed. The last rays of the evening sun were trickling in through the gaps in the black sunshade. The phone lay by my side.

I start to play the songs he used to ask me to play.

The gates that lay unused for......ever..... finally open up all the way, and......I taste salt.

=======================

*** The end of the road ***

=======================

I, along with three of my roommates, buy four beers from a shop we see on the way back from the hospital. Three of us drink - right behind the shop, in a clearing with walls on four sides. I drink two - one for myself, one for the one who couldn't join us.

The others do their best to make light conversation. I keep having flashbacks in my head, I keep seeing the events of that morning over and over, however much I try not to.....

I stand next to "JK2", his brother. A brash, loudmouthed morgue attendant opens a freezer door in the very back of the building. He pulls the stretcher out and rips away the cotton sticking to his face, at one fell swoop. I stare. JK2 falls against a pillar nearby, sobbing uncontrollably. The others leave us alone with JK. I keep staring at his face - cold, dark, slightly bluish - and my mind goes back to the previous day, when we bought him to the morgue - I see his scalp being peeled back, just like what I saw through the window - I see his body being mutilated, I hear the sound of the hammer and chisel....

I felt it coming. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it back any longer. I had already thrown the empty bottle away, and I passed my cigarette and JK's beer to my roommate, walked to a corner, in front of a rubbish heap - and literally "poured away" all my beer, along with what I had that morning. Then I went back to him, took my cigarette back, and started drinking JK's beer, making an effort to listen to my roommates continue trying to cheer themselves up, in vain....

JK2 stops sobbing and muttering to JK long enough to bid him a final adieu before covering him up again. We push him back into the freezer and turn back to see SB (JK's cousin) collapsed against the wall, doing exactly what JK2 and I were doing moments earlier. After that came the longest period in my life for which my lacrimal glands have worked at one stretch, and for the first time since I was a preteen - in front of complete strangers.

=============

*** Epilogue ***

=============

I would like to end this entry by thanking the all people who stood by me and helped me, JK2, and SB through this terrible ordeal - and this list is by no means complete. These are just the names of the people who I can remember right now. If you're reading this and you were one of those who helped, please accept my humble apologies and my sincerest thanks.

People who took the initiative to do everything for JK and his folks while I was avoiding all human contact and moping:

Ankit Chandola

Ankit Kumar

Avinash Lal

Debatanu Bhattacharjee

Gurmeet Singh

Jugal Kishore

Kapil Kanchibotla

Shaik Imtiyaz

Sharath G.

Ronnie Dutta

Utkarsh Sahay

I will always be indebted to you for doing the things you did and the support you gave me and JK's folks. You didn't have to lift a finger, and in turn you didn't let ME lift one. Words aren't enough to express what I feel.

People who found the time to make this grateful blogger feel a little bit better through a word, even a glance, or a touch, or just by spending a lil' time with me, however short:

Anup K Nair

Amandeep Singh Anand

Anil Kumar Imandi

Amit Rana

Arvind Verma

Jerry James

Karthik Kunjithapatham

Manoj Vattigunta

Nikhil Dev

Prithvi Raj

Praveer Mahato

Rahul Bole

Srinivas Padmakar Vishnubhotla

Trilok Chander

Vaibhav Balkhande

Vaibhav Gupta

......and Mom.

Those who are missing from the above list, please understand that I was not in my senses and couldn't recognize or acknowledge your efforts.

Thanks again.

Insane? - cont'd

Something's happening to me. It's wonderful in one sense, but quite sad in another. I feel myself changing, for the better, but I also feel like I'm losing the ability to feel wonder, to feel amazement, to connect with other human beings on the level that I want to. I don't know if this is just a phase, or if I'll be this way for the rest of my days. I have been a person who considers his main strength to be "adaptability", the quality of changing according to the situations one faces. But why do I get the feeling that in these short 22 years I've explored the depths of almost every experience life has to offer (that I want to experience, that is....), and that life holds no more surprises for me?

I guess I can blame it on the sheer amount of self-help material I've been going through. Yes, I confess. "Self-help" is something not many would like to list in the "passions" field of their online social networking profiles. I, like every other person on the planet, have problems, and like I'd imagine most people would do, I tried thinking of different ways of solving those problems. I'm a fiercely independent person, in every possible way. Therefore, the next logical step for me was to find out what I could change in myself to meet and overcome these problems head on. I devoted a few hours every week to go through different self-help material covering different areas of life. I think I've covered everything that a person would need to know about life and other people in general. The only sort of literature I can think of that I haven't covered is along the lines of "How to be a better politician", since that's the only area of public life that I am totally disinterested in.

After a few months of going through all this material, putting it to use, seeing it work, and getting the predicted results, I've gotten to the point where I truly do understand a lot about the human psyche, both men and women, why people do what they do, why they say the things they say, and how best to deal with different types of people. Not to mention the wealth of knowledge I acquired about (and, thereby, control over) myself - my strengths, weaknesses, and idiosyncrasies. And the fact that I know exactly why I'm feeling what I'm feeling at any given moment. It's not just the self-help material, though; a big contributor to this development is the fact that I work in an industry in which I deal with people all day, every day - and keep seeing a myriad different interpersonal interactions.

This sort of deep understanding of humanity, human civilization, and the way the universe works in general is not something I ever expected to have, at least not at such a young age. Obviously, since I am human, it is not perfect, but it's gotten to the point where I can talk to almost anyone across the world and predict what sort of a response I'll get. I can think of and (mostly) correctly predict the reasons behind and the effects of any particular situation. Allowing for unforeseen factors and even just plain dumb luck affecting the outcome, of course. The point I am making is not that I am some smooth talker who knows what to do in any situation, or some know-it-all that knows anything and everything, that's far from the truth (it's very hard to change one's true nature, but I've come a long way from two years ago) - but that nothing surprises me anymore. It's like I've figured out everything there is to figure out.

Please don't mistake this to be just another prepubescent boast, and don't take it out of context, I know there is a lot left for humanity to figure out about the universe and a lot more that I have to, and will, learn. And there's a lot I don't care to learn anything about. I'm just saying that the sense of wonder I used to have about things I didn't know much about has disappeared. Maybe it's a sign of growing up, but I miss it. I miss not knowing why I feel what I feel, why I think what I think, and why I do what I do. I miss the feeling of just feeling and not thinking.

Causality, like the Merovingian from the two sequels to "The Matrix" says, is what I feel rules the universe. I guess I'm a determinist as well. I'm interested in causes and effects. So I just read through what I typed up to this point again, just to see what sort of an effect I was going for, and I noticed that I hadn't typed out any introduction. I also felt a feeling of deja vu, like I've already talked about this topic before. So I checked the last entry I posted and voila, it's got the same basic theme. No points for guessing at what point I filled the "Title" field on this "Create post" page. Where was I? Oh yeah, the previous entry. Change. I guess that's what this blog is turning into, a place for me to record the changes I go through. I do feel like I'd like to give this place more attention and blog more than once a year, but there are so many threads of thought flowing through my head at any given point of time that I can't pick and choose what to blog about - all of them seem equally important, and spending time blogging about even one seems to be a waste of time I could've used to think about another thread of thought - we are what we think!

Since I've already blogged about "change", TWICE, I guess I don't have much to blog about anymore....

This will probably be my last blog post for a very long time. Unless I find something worth blogging about, or some change in my way of thinking (self-induced or otherwise) makes me want to blog, or if I simply "feel like it". I'll try different styles of writing, perhaps. Who knows what the future holds! ;)

Insane?

“Insane - Am I the only motherfucker with a brain?
I'm hearing voices but all they do is complain
How many times have you wanted to kill
Everything and everyone - Say you'll do it but never will”

Slipknot -Eyeless

No song would be more appropriate for the mood I’m in now.

Don’t get me wrong, I really don’t want to make this one of those “I’m feeling this, I’m feeling that…” blogs, not like the last entry, anyway – that whole episode turned out to be a total waste of time and emotion. Not that I regret it, though. Anything I learn from is a good experience.

All right, what’s been happening since I posted here last? What’s changed?

I suppose the easiest question to answer would be “What HASN’T changed?”

There’s this saying, “Nothing is constant but change”, or something to that effect. It holds true in most people’s cases. But in my case, it should be amended to “Nothing is constant but constant change”. I’ve changed so much I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore, I don’t recognize the person whose body I’m in, I don’t dictate half of what he does – I feel totally disconnected. It’s like I’m living somebody else’s life, trapped in a stranger’s body beneath the skin, looking out through his eyes. I don’t know what I should feel. Disappointment? Enlightenment? Anger? Happiness? Apathy? Enthusiasm for what lies ahead?

I used to be someone I liked. Not loved, but liked. I had no trouble being him. It felt good being behind the wheel all the time. And then something happened. I changed one too many times. I have always thought of adaptability as my main strength. The ability to analyze oneself and change for the better. I still think of it as my main strength. The problem is, I’ve changed so much in such a little time, I’m beginning to forget who I was, where I came from, and where I want to go. Not literally, of course. But I’d like to try and remember a few things. Here goes nothing.

Music.

Slayer – Seasons in the Abyss

Now there’s a song I haven’t heard in a long time, from a band I haven’t paid much attention to, for a long time.

[Chorus]

“Close your eyes
Look deep in your soul
Step outside yourself
And let your mind go
Frozen eyes stare deep in your mind as you die”

I don’t pretend to understand the significance of the rest of the lines of the song, and I don’t even pretend to understand what the words in those lines are. I’m just sitting here tripping on the music (no, I’m not under the influence of any mind-altering substance). I’ve got my eyes closed, my feet up on a chair, my head laid back, my toes and feet keeping time to the music.

The point of typing out all this is just that it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do this while sober. I had lost all interest in music for quite a long time, for no reason that I could figure out. Damn, it feels good to be able to truly be swept up in music again!

I’ve always wondered where I would’ve gotten or what I would’ve turned into if I had learnt how to play an instrument, and it seems like I’ll have a chance to find out some time soon. I fervently hope it’s not just a passing phase and that the guitar I’m planning to get this week won’t find itself lying in one corner of my house permanently. Not that I know anything about how I’m going to learn to play it with any degree of success, but since it’s something I’ve wanted to do from when I got my first walkman and my first cassette for my 10th birthday or so (Iron Maiden – “The X Factor” album) I’ll definitely give it my best shot.

*******************

Biking.

I can’t say I really understood what the fuss was about. What was so great about an engine on two wheels that got you places? Wasn’t it better to have one on four? It was safer, you could have more company, and it was a helluva lot more comfortable.

If you’re expecting this paragraph to be an explanation of why I don’t prescribe to the way of thinking that gave birth to the few sentences above this one anymore, then I’m sorry to disappoint. I DO know what the fuss is about, now - I’m caught up in it. I still don’t know how to EXPLAIN what the fuss is about, though; so I’ll just type out a line I read or heard somewhere on the net and try to explain the thought process behind it:

“Driving a car is like watching a movie, but riding a bike is like being in one.”

When you’re in a car, you’re sitting on a comfy chair or couch-like thing, on a stable platform on four wheels, more or less isolated from the environment and everything else around the car. You can switch off and ponder about whatever you feel like pondering about, at the time. Just like when watching a movie.

But when you’re on a bike, you’re not just IN the environment, you’re a PART of it….whatever is around you affects you a lot more than when you’re in a car surrounded by metal and plastic.

I guess that’s a major part of the allure of biking. The sense of oneness you get with everything around you. The sensation of hurtling down the road with inadequate protection, knowing that something as random as some loose gravel here, a pothole there, a bit of oil somewhere – anything could bring you down – and then twisting the accelerator further back, harder and faster. I guess one feels more alive when one is in danger of losing that life. That would certainly explain why many people take unnecessary risks that would seem inexplicable and useless to the beholder. I’m one of those people now. =)

*******************

Come to think of it, I can’t think of anything else right now, and it’s getting quite late….have work tomorrow, and I need my sleep!

Oh well. Work is more important. Another thing that’s changed in me – my attitude to work.

It’s for the best, and I don’t need anyone to tell me that….

Guess this has become a totally random and pointless entry without an adequate conclusion, but what the fuck. So is life.

Drifting off to bed,
Sp^wN_0F_S^T^N

Back from the dead

.....O_O..............

I'm not sure who to address this to, since I'm pretty sure no-one ever visits this place anymore. Heck, even I haven't visited this place in a long time. I guess I'll start treating this as my personal online diary, a place to keep a record of the important happenings in my life, with a few anecdotes and the occasional rant.

Here goes.

Had a pretty rough day with a lot of downs and very few ups. I was just sitting here with my eyes closed, listening to Shaggy Feat. Rayvon - Angel, and a wave of nostalgia just hit me. It's a song which has special meaning to me. No, that meaning is meant only for me to know, not to be posted here. That's when I thought of reviving this long-dead blog. I've missed you, dear Bl^wG. Yes, I think that's a good name to call this place by.

Note:
If any human is reading this (probably by accident), and thinking to him/her/itself, "Jeez. This guy is nuts. He's talking to an imaginary friend. His BLOG, of all things.", I'd like him/her/it to know that the vast overwhelming majority of humans on this planet are supposedly Theists. That is, they talk to their own imaginary friend(s), their "God(s)". I'm not one of them. I'm an atheist. I don't believe in any supernatural entities. I know that what I'm typing out is basically data stored on a computer system. Consider this exercise an act of stretching my mental "legs", refreshing my mind, and putting my thoughts into words that I can read and examine from another's point of view. And I referred to (and may or may not refer to, in future) my blog as "dear Bl^wG". If you don't like it, you can go get stuffed. Have a nice day.

A lot of things have happened in my life since I posted my last entry. I don't think I'll have the time or the patience to type out all of it, and I don't see the point. Once the memory has lost its freshness, I don't feel like typing it all out. Maybe I'll insert a few experiences here and there in future posts (if any).

I've been in a nostalgic mood for quite a few hours now, having had a couple of conversations with people who were - no, are still close to my heart, and still remain in my thoughts, and listening to Shaggy's "Angel" only compounded the feeling of nostalgia. Two other songs that I love, and are perfect for this mood I'm currently in, are "Goo Goo Dolls - Here is Gone", and "Stone Sour - Through Glass". They're the only three songs in my play list right now, playing over and over. :D

I got to thinking about where I've come from, where I am now, and where I'm going, as is the case with these infrequent moods that come over me. I saw the mistakes and misunderstandings of the past, felt a deep, crushing regret at not having known what to do, figured out what I could've done that would've been better than what I actually did, and learnt from it. If you know me, you probably know who I'm talking about, even though the what part is known only to me.

In the extremely unlikely (fantastically so) case that you ARE the person I'm thinking about, I want to apologize:

I'm sorry I wasn't what you thought I was. I tried the best I could. I didn't know what you expected of me back then, but now, in retrospect, and in the wisdom recently acquired from David, I do. I'm sorry I couldn't figure it out for myself. I didn't have a clue back then, but how could I? I had never been in a situation like that. I desperately wanted to be what you wanted me to be, but I didn't know what that was, let alone knowing how. The fear of losing you, the fear of GETTING you, the fear of what I should do - it was petrifying. I myself didn't know what I want. I still don't know what I wanted. I do know what I want now, but it is of no use - I know that now. Wanting something is nothing. DOING something when it is to be done, to get what you want- is everything. I have learnt my lesson. Too bad I didn't know what I wanted back then. If I had, things would have been different. Very very different. I'm so sorry I let you (and myself) down. I wish you happiness and luck, always. Love. :)

Phew. Got that off my chest. I've been wanting to type this out for such a long, long time.....

In case you're scratching your head and staring at the screen after reading the previous couple of paragraphs, you don't know me, and you don't know who I was talking to, so just forget about it.

For those who understood who the above rant was addressed to, I know the chances of her coming across this entry and actually understanding that this was addressed to her are as miniscule as the probability that "God" exists. This was, like I said earlier, an act of stretching my mental "legs", nothing more. I needed to do this for a long time. And I feel much better now. =)

Sp^wN_0F_S^T^N >:]

Tis' good to be back. Peace.

Values

Here are three blogthings I really liked:

Your Values Profile

Loyalty: You value loyalty a fair amount. You're loyal to your friends... to a point. But if they cross you, you will reconsider your loyalties. Staying true to others is important to you, but you also stay true to yourself. Honesty: You don't really value honesty. You do value getting your way, no matter what. And if a little lying is required to do that, no problem. A few white lies never hurt anyone (at least, that's what you tell yourself!) Generosity: You don't really value generosity. Your needs always come first, no matter what. And you'll possibly help someone else out... But only if it helps you in return. Humility: You value humility highly. You have the self-confidence to be happy with who you are. And you don't need to seek praise to make yourself feel better. You're very modest, and you're keep the drama factor low. Tolerance: You value tolerance a fair amount. You are open to new cultures, beliefs, and ideas. You have very few prejudices that you're aware of. And while you are tolerant, you do stand true to what you believe.

The Five Factor Values Test

Accurate, except for the value of Honesty. I DO value honesty. A lot.

You Are 46% Selfish

You are quite balanced. You are able to compromise when it's in the best interests of those involved. But you're no pushover. If something is important to you, you'll get it!

How Selfish Are You?

True. :D

You Have Low Self Esteem 40% of the Time

Generally, you feel pretty darn great about who you are, even when you mess up or fail. Occasionally, a huge setback will make you question yourself, but you pick yourself up quickly.

How is Your Self Esteem?

t3h faceless ones

Whew. Been a long time coming. It feels DAMN good to be able to blog again.....I had a bad case of novice writers block....but that's what happens after each entry I post. I lose all interest for a month or two until the urge to write comes back.

Somethings thats been on my mind for a long time now...

Friends.

I've had my share of acquaintances, ordinary friends, really good friends who I share stuff in common with; be it a long time in the same institution, a few mind-altering experiences, same or similar interests; a few people who I have to call "my friend" but who I wish I could forget about completely. And then there were also a FEW people who I wished, during my few-and-far-between homicidal urges, I could cut up with a huge scimitar, hurl everything including the kitchen sink at, crucify to the wall with shurikens, then tear limb from limb, and use the severed head as a football. But forget about that for now.

In the past year I've discovered a new kind of friendship; one where the only thing that matters is the mind. I've come to realise that I would prefer the company of these faceless, formless, "backgroundless" entities, to the company of the people you meet offline.

Now don't get me wrong; these people I'm talking about are the minority. In case you don't know me [and you're wondering], I DO have quite a few friends that I've met offline, and built lasting friendships with; its the former that this blog is dedicated to.

Most people think things like "You can reinvent yourself online!", "You can be anyone you want to be!". I have come across people like that. They give false information and say things they wouldn't in real life in the vain hope of....oh I don't know why they do it. Hoping to score, perhaps! Wonder who on this planet even looks at the net as a singles club anymore. Sure there are dating sites n' all...I'm just talking about chat.

I, on the other hand, feel that the net is a place where you can be your true self, where all other factors of your identity, those things that makes your first impression of a person, are erased...race, religion, financial status, background; what matters to other people is your worldview, your personality, and your level of maturity. I won't say "attitude to life" because thats not something that can be assumed to be constant. You won't feel like "taking on the world" if you're terminally ill. But you will show traits of your personality, your level of maturity; and in doing so, your worldview.

What brought this thread of thought on was a recent, unexpected sighting of a person who fits into the last category specified at the beginning of this post. This was a guy I had hated, right down to my bones. If I had turned into a psychotic serial killer this guy would be on the top of my list. But all that was a long time ago. Another lifetime, even. I attracted his attention for a moment before we passed each other. Don't know if he recognised me. This set me thinking about the past; all the friends I had neglected to keep in touch; all the friends I had forgotten without a second thought; all my present friends; and the degree of closeness to each category. The end result: the inspiration for this post.

I say category because I believe I act differently to each category. This sort of categorisation is something I have done ever since I can remember. Guess I was born this way. I'm one person to my ex-classmates; another to my collegemates; another to miscellaneous ex-schoolmates....but I find that the person I am online is the closest representation to the person I am inside.

Most of the people I chat regularly with, I've met online. After going through the initial process of assessing the new contact; I have found real friendship in some of the people I've met online. I'm amazed at what some of them are willing to do for someone they've only heard about, chatted with, and never met.

The quality of the conversations you have online, IMHO, are much more than any you will have offline JUST because of the time lag which helps you organise your thoughts; you can take your own time to formulate an appropriate reply which would put a lot more ideas across, a lot more clearly at that. I find that these conversations are what you need when you're "out of it". I also find these rare mind-to-mind conversations WAY more rewarding than ANY I have EVER had offline. You don't commit as many blunders as you do in an offline conversation, like blurting something out which you didn't want to blurt out. You have less side-threads in the conversation than you would offline. You don't have outside interferences. Oh, except for mom calling me for a meal. Like now. BRB. :D

This, sadly, is not the case with ALL of them; some can be quite a pain and will not listen to you if you tell them to go away and not disturb you. In fact, one particularly disobedient character disturbed me knowingly while I was typing out this post. Yeah, I know. Just don't do it again!! X-(

These online friends of mine have become the reason for a couple of experiences that are the best I've ever had in terms of sheer fun. I thought about blogging about it right after they happened but I'm not a regular blogger, so I dropped the idea. I'm talking about a couple of gaming events I went to, both in March '06. I had to travel four hours to reach the place but I needed a break from my daily routine. I had met a few of the people who invited me when they came here but there were a few who I hadn't had the honour of meeting. I couldn't refuse the chance to play my favourite game with and against them; I sure as hell wasn't disappointed. I have yet to attend an event where more REAL friends of mine were present.

Of course, when you meet one of your online "REAL" friends offline, it can only deepen and intensify the bond you already share. There are these rare looks of understanding; where words need not be said; you know what the other person is thinking. Perfectly. With the people you meet offline, it takes quite a long time to reach that level of friendship.

blanker, bullseye, banshee, ryu, kickasso, poison, stryker, bios.....and a few others; hope I see you again soon and to those of you I haven't met: hope I do so.....soon. :)

Here'z to you.

How old am I mentally?

I forgot whose blog I got this from.

You Are 18 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Hmmm.......guess its accurate enough.....:D