tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-136865842011-07-08T05:53:13.171+05:30Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.comBlogger1011100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-55233267357613076012010-09-23T15:35:00.011+05:302010-09-24T13:01:04.970+05:30

We should be ashamed. All of us Indians. We enjoy having someone to point a finger at, whether it’s to laugh at them or to place blame on their shoulders, but we don’t often look into a mirror with the same intention.The officials responsible for the Commonwealth Games mess have become the focus of everyone’s ire and the media are doing a stupendous job of sensationalizing the problems with

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-72537299853041870782010-09-20T18:22:00.017+05:302010-09-24T19:20:14.748+05:30

Morning. So cold…Bathtub? Melting ice? FUCK…!Wait, slow down. I remember now. We emptied the ice machine last night… she wanted to do it “Eskimo style”. Crazy stuff. Man, I wish I’d passed out on the bed instead.“Uh, you’re in my seat.” Either she hadn’t heard him or she was ignoring him. He felt silly standing there and attempting to converse with her back. Her friend had obviously heard him

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-31134248158528306602010-08-05T22:32:00.005+05:302010-08-06T12:37:38.726+05:30

What did I do wrong?Where did things take such a turn that now you suddenly can’t bear to look me in the eye?It wasn’t very long ago that our every meeting was sweet relief. I’d make time everyday to come see you and our moments spent together seemed almost too short. But yesterday, for the first time, it was as if you couldn’t even see me.I stood before you, head bowed in modest sincerity. And

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-68668143111633092502010-05-03T01:57:00.007+05:302010-05-03T02:09:48.165+05:30

Almost three months it’s been since I last posted anything. While I patiently await my suicide machine, please don’t disqualify me, O Elders of the Internet!Recently, I heard the name Persephone and was immediately thrown back to my childhood. Not really being even a mediocre authority on Greek and Roman mythology, I’m not quite sure how I instantly connected the dots between Persephone and the

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-55011453636997876792010-02-08T22:47:00.008+05:302010-02-10T14:01:52.503+05:30

I hate when people say how good it feels to give. I think that is utterly selfish and hypocritical behaviour. If you want to give, give for the cause, not for your own satisfaction or peace of mind. I felt for the victims of the Haiti disaster but since I did not have the power, ability or compulsion to help them directly, like many others I thought it best to place my contribution in the hands

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-7748339990846674752010-01-26T14:55:00.008+05:302010-01-26T23:50:11.997+05:30

I don’t travel frequently, so when I do take a trip I always hope to meet an interesting member of the opposite sex during the journey, who can at least uphold one end of a stimulating conversation. I’m always looking for the random stranger that I won’t soon forget (in a good way, not because she swiped my wallet).Recently on a bus to Mumbai, hitherto Bombay, I found myself seated beside a

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-92118900606572092492009-12-31T17:14:00.015+05:302010-01-02T02:59:48.786+05:30

Good gravy, I’ve almost missed another month. I know it looks like I’ve been away from here for a long time, but I haven’t really. In the process of starting my Tumblr page, I may have left behind my November post in favour of ‘micro-blogging’, but that was just a minor oversight. I’m still here, and Tumblr will only be my new graffiti wall, not mind space.The time for retrospection, revelry and

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-69647734134131252102009-10-31T20:56:00.023+05:302009-11-05T16:46:49.724+05:30

Ok, I haven’t had time to write something special for today, so I give you this delightfully horrific little story by Edgar Allan Poe: Read!On a side note, too bad about poor Caroline Wozniacki’s on-court spasm. Although, I’ll bet that video of her cramping up is really popular on the Internet and her grandchildren will probably watch it when they’re old enough to surf the net unsupervised!Warren

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-57489573429857327622009-10-04T13:49:00.013+05:302010-01-20T14:33:14.148+05:30

One of my favourite cinematic scenes is when someone crashes through a wall. No matter if the wall looks like it was constructed of papier-mâché, it’s still a greatly dynamic instant. I’m pretty sure I can’t break through a regular wall, but drywall is very much within the realm of possibility! Idly dreaming during (sometimes unnecessarily) long work meetings, I can imagine myself busting through

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-52739448405759143472009-08-31T02:02:00.009+05:302009-08-31T17:21:57.909+05:30

As far back as I can remember in my adult life, I’ve been waiting for my own ‘falls to his knees’ moment. It’s the much dramatised scene in which our protagonist falls to his (or her) knees, utterly overwhelmed. Maybe exhaustion from rescuing pensioners out of a burning building, or relief as they spy an oasis from afar after thirsty days in the desert wilderness, or even in reverent awe as they

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-52538330318760485342009-07-31T05:02:00.001+05:302009-08-02T05:07:58.630+05:30

I’ve decided to re-try my hand at something I haven’t done in a long, long time - reading. It’s been a while since I last perused something in print other than a price tag or the occasional newspaper headline so this is a big step for me.For some reason I felt compelled to choose Douglas Scott Adams’ first book, although I have never really read his comic strip and even confess to hating it for

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-48605407840056927792009-06-26T12:15:00.003+05:302009-06-26T16:01:03.427+05:30

A couple of weeks ago just as I was leaving for work, I saw this lady come out of the neighbouring building. About mom-sized and, as is the norm around here, wrapped in a million scarves. Big deal, I think, and carry on my way happy with the thought I’d thunk that I’d be long gone before she even extracted her keys from her hideous purse. Instead, I eventually found myself behind her on the road,

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-7079018445180771062009-05-22T18:47:00.007+05:302009-05-22T19:30:00.977+05:30

I had an unusual dream a couple of nights ago that I will now dwell on for my own amusement – I dreamed I was colourizing an episode of I Love Lucy. I know that you aren’t supposed to remember dreams because of REM sleep and all that jazz, but I do recall them sometimes, as I’m sure most people do. Every time I manage to recollect a dream, it is vivid enough for me to break down into parts that I

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-80059829508971790352009-05-04T13:11:00.004+05:302009-05-06T15:29:45.443+05:30

That’s it! I, am hereby, herein, hereforth AND herewith done with aging... From now on, I’m getting younger by the minute!Fort Minor - Remember The NameBobby Vinton - Blue Moon

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-4884729953540263152009-03-31T17:06:00.014+05:302009-04-01T17:07:02.709+05:30

Some stuff I found. Not sure how long ago I wrote this. For giving me an excuse to sing out loud: QueenFor giving me an anthem: John LennonFor always listening to whisperings: Pepe, the paranoid parakeetFor holding open the door to life before and after me: The Beatles, The JetsonsFor keeping alive a spark of religiosity, no matter how shamelessly small or elusive: MotherFor the sound of romance

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-16219306537826168022009-03-19T21:57:00.008+05:302009-03-20T14:23:48.684+05:30

Dammit February, you’ve screwed me over with your 28-day fashion. By the time I’d realized the month was out, I didn’t have anything ready to post. So I may try to make it up this month; or I may not. Whatever.I’ve done it so many times now, that the “airport post” has become quite predictable. I can’t help it though, because I generally have an unreasonably long wait at every major airport I

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-21345598962459293962009-01-25T13:00:00.011+05:302009-03-19T21:02:55.126+05:30

From recent events, I’d say it’s fair to assume that people WANT to think they are victims of racism, because it’s an easy way to reject criticism of themselves. People WANT to think they are being projected badly to the rest of the world, people WANT to think they are being looked down upon. In fact, I’d say that is close to being an Indian trait. It is an effort to gain a sympathy vote and to

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-89703940678357668002008-12-23T15:51:00.008+05:302009-04-06T13:10:27.636+05:30

As Sir Marcus Rigsby is wont to say, Whatever you’re doing, stop it now!I was browsing my Internet today and reading through a few random but mostly not-so-random blogs to note what the (sometimes questionably) funny folk were up to. As I am wont to do at most times, I noticed a couple of things. I shall now share the immediately-aforementioned observations.1. Plenty people like to just make up

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-23110296089814237552008-12-04T15:24:00.009+05:302008-12-04T16:13:57.564+05:30

I hate sitting around at airports, mostly because my international layovers are almost always reeeeallly long. But sometimes the wait is not all that bad because once you get used to the seats and find all the restrooms you don’t want to use, an airport is an airport is an airport. No matter how much I hate Starbucks, I’d probably still stop for a bagel or bear claw to pass the time. It’s nice to

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-43047614197016015762008-11-26T02:04:00.008+05:302008-11-26T13:38:46.224+05:30

Everyone has to fit in. A few are good at most things they try, but most aren’t. So we get by by finding the thing we think we can do, and then trying to do that as best we can so that we burrow out our own little niche where, no matter what anyone else does, we will always fit in, ‘cos that’s what we do.The world looks like it is fading fast; I might seem like I have made decent progress over

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-74581239221226419082008-10-30T14:41:00.005+05:302008-10-30T15:09:03.014+05:30

01. X is extreme; obviously02. X is algebraic; the universally intuitive variable03. X is androgynous; until it forms a chromosome pair04. X is je ne sais quoi05. X is vulgar; red neon does nicely06. X is retro07. X is now; I wish they’d make up their minds whether it’s called Gen X or Gen Y, though…08. X is ambiguous; we’re calling it the X-Ray?09. X is abbreviational; Xmission, X86, etc.10. X

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-61661987820490624092008-09-08T18:46:00.005+05:302008-09-08T20:51:09.908+05:30

I remember how, when I was young, I often sat by the window, gazing out at the colours and wishing that when I grew up I could be one of those people who defined COOL. Don’t assume that I wanted to be a pop star or hip designer… I wanted to be the head of a corporation bent on monopoly that decided what its weak-minded consumers ate, watched, drank, wore and smoked. Or better yet, the head of a

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-46273143066569514972008-08-04T21:39:00.008+05:302008-08-05T20:08:01.623+05:30

The rise of Floyd!Little Ernie was having a problem with his homework. “Dad,” he asked, “What is the difference between ‘anger’ and ‘exasperation’?”“Well, son,” said his father, “I’ll give you a practical demonstration.”His father picked up the phone and dialled a number.“Hello,” said a voice at the other end.“Hello,” said Ernie’s father. “Is Melvin there?”“There is no one called Melvin here!”

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-19120765827234773802008-07-21T15:32:00.013+05:302008-07-21T16:14:16.183+05:30

Two-five is here at last. It’s not as though it dropped in unexpectedly, but two-four was bad enough without adding another year. I expect/want to live till I’m 55 (or did I say 2055 AD?) so I may be close to halfway there already.Floyd: Wow, did you use your fingers to count that? Happy Birthday, doofus.Considering that I’ve only really gone about life for about 11 years and slept one third of

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-34612480282111251462008-07-07T13:05:00.003+05:302008-07-07T13:15:58.022+05:30

It is difficult to get along, to match minds these days. The world grows ever rapidly and as more people populate the planet, it will be increasingly more difficult to get along, to find a matching of minds in those days.Happiness seems to need to be earned (which is not always a bad thing) so it is probably a lot easier to find comfort in knowing that your conveniently begotten sorrow makes you

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-36321938607305683212008-05-28T20:16:00.004+05:302008-06-02T20:41:44.514+05:30

Nothing good can ever come of the truth. Truth is an ugly, honest-to-god un-beautiful thing. It may seem sad to the altruistic mind, or even one corrupted manifold, but THIS IS the truth.See? Nothing good came of that either.Our entire existence is spent living in the elaborate lies we create, tangled into those woven by the people we let into our lives, and each one touching a hundred more till

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-73947041084851708652008-04-30T23:56:00.004+05:302008-05-01T12:38:11.000+05:30

I try hard not to be stupid. I have to try really hard sometimes. But it’s pretty hard to do.Idiotica seems to be a facet I’ve developed quite nicely over so many years and it is now coming beautifully into bloom. I would love it as much as, if not more than life itself, if I could wake up one morning with the realization that I weren’t stupid no more. Tree of knowledge and all that. I should

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-10574549386195103372008-03-15T01:39:00.002+05:302008-03-15T17:17:25.446+05:30

Sue ushered him into the room, “This is Mr. Smith and Mr. Gray”. She turned to him and winked, the hint of a smile forming on her face before she moved out of his field of vision. ‘Grey’ was right. Sitting behind a large steel desk were two gentlemen who, he judged, had not had a sunny day in their entire lifetimes. Grey haired men, in grey suits and the furniture being the colour it was... what

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-40547082274455733912008-02-26T21:56:00.009+05:302008-03-03T19:28:33.213+05:30

A generation gap is an oft-used excuse that has perpetuated across the years. Grandparents, parents, children and grandchildren are all content to be separated from each other by time cocoons that seem to take less time to spin as the generation number increases. The definition of a generation gap is changing now. Time was when a father would see a generation gap as the entire time between his

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-92212823760727583492008-01-22T04:18:00.001+05:302008-04-18T04:50:03.479+05:30

I’m in a league of my own. At least I would like to think I am. It may be more easily put that I’m not in anyone else’s league, but I guess I don’t necessarily need to have company to have my own league. What is a league, anyway? I’m not about to dictionary it.Yes, that’s right, I said ‘Dictionary it’, NOT ‘Google it’.I am about to write without pretense… sure, I prefer to not write unnecessarily

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-82625195710000702022007-12-26T02:02:00.000+05:302007-12-26T02:33:34.599+05:30

Another Christmas come and gone meaninglessly. I don’t know what ‘meaning’ I expect out of it, but I guess I just think that if you don’t know or have a meaning, you shouldn’t have reason to acknowledge or celebrate the occasion either.Santa is not enough of a meaning or reason. In contemplation, I admitted without meaning to, that I am killing my spirit. I complain uselessly that my world is

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-82355394082930070072007-12-08T20:47:00.001+05:302008-04-18T05:10:03.996+05:30

I don’t have a bicycle. I remember when I had so wanted one and when I had one and wished it was better and when I’d stopped using it and wished I had the time to start again. I don’t have a bicycle anymore.In cities such as this, it doesn’t matter what kind of vehicle you commandeer, you will eventually, knowingly or otherwise, willingly or otherwise, become a pestilence to the general public.

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-49992278759737859282007-11-13T14:02:00.000+05:302007-11-13T15:47:27.259+05:30

Out of the blue, shocking news for me. Possibly not shocking, but definitely disrupting/disturbing. This kid I used to know a long time ago apparently died last week under mysterious circumstances. Scary stuff. I remember him ‘cos he squirted me good once, when I used to “know a long time ago” him. There we were, this little dude a coupla years younger and me… and there I was with two fistfuls of

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-73266456914005388392007-10-01T23:44:00.000+05:302007-10-15T17:57:37.619+05:30

Everyone wants to be a badass, but if everyone is, no one will be. Just like everyone wants to be unique; at least everyone with a decent sense of self. But in trying so hard, half of the lot end up being ‘different’ in the same old way. And for those who don’t want to be different, well, they’ve already begun imitating somebody else in that case.You only get to be different when YOU decide how

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-15472418169300220792007-09-24T15:42:00.000+05:302007-09-28T23:09:00.594+05:30

Many choose to say that “people are basically good” and bad people are the result of bad circumstances. I say people are fundamentally assholes.Just assholes who behave themselves most of the time, because it’s what is expected if they don’t want anyone else to be an asshole right back at them. Why do you think it’s easier to be a dick than it is to be well mannered as the Earl of Warwickshire?

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-52428259640526290192007-08-07T00:20:00.000+05:302007-08-07T01:50:50.621+05:30

I’m miserable. It isn’t really any surprise, but I’ve suddenly begun to feel it hard. All the years of barely caring about most of the people I’ve known have finally come to fruition now that I have no one left beside me. I feel more alone than ever but I cannot bring myself to keep returning to old company; the change was always inevitable. From my point of view, this is just me being honest. If

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-59185115744342622542007-07-15T08:12:00.000+05:302007-07-16T12:24:32.440+05:30

I’ve missed most of the Formula One season so far this year due to unforeseen circumstances, as most often are, so I’m only just starting to catch up. The one sport I actually follow with more than my eyes is the one that, unfortunately, draws a huge wannabe posse around here… dumbasses cheering for the red just to be in esteemed company. Tifosi, my ass. Motorsport is not soccer or tennis or any

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-12915300976939166892007-06-22T03:29:00.000+05:302007-06-22T05:13:53.981+05:30

They can’t tell usThey’re just jealous‘Cos they don’t understand.The traveling walkway drones intermittently in the background as I struggle to position my buttocks in the tiny seat so that I can lean back comfortably while taking the weight off my aching left leg. After walking with an embarrassing limp all day, I need some relief.Looking around me, it’s like I’m already back where I started

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-52211078943932108962007-06-21T02:50:00.000+05:302007-06-22T06:12:14.283+05:30

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Barely literate motherfuckers, screwing the country out of a step in the right direction. The GOVERNMENT wants to ban the sale of condoms… well, A condom anyway.I was surprised to discover that they actually manufacture and retail cool stuff like this here – it’s a ribbed condom with a battery powered vibrating ring. So what do the backward scum running this particular

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-71506431317097902652007-05-31T04:15:00.001+05:302007-07-02T09:16:56.932+05:30

I’m on my way home and again I’ll have to turn back the Blogger clock by a day so that I can fit this into May.03:00, June 2nd, Changi, Singapore… I have no other alternative but to find a quiet spot where I can plug my computer into a power outlet and connect to one of the wireless hotspots here. Sleep is not an option for now. With nothing else to do for six and a half hours, I write. Although

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-34374603540065273582007-04-30T22:57:00.001+05:302007-05-02T22:21:29.674+05:30

I’ve finally moved outside the homeland and quite unexpectedly, I’ve been having a good time. I didn’t expect to enjoy one bit of this, but here I am, wishing I had this chance sooner. I’m not an accommodating kind or the adaptive type, but I’m taking to it pretty darn well. I’m kinda worried that I disassociated from home too soon, though. Moving between hotel rooms became like second nature for

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-8896872571671818502007-03-22T05:22:00.000+05:302007-03-30T02:22:16.844+05:30

I don't have digitalI don't have diddly squatIt's not having what you wantIt's wanting what you've gotThank you, Sheryl. Now on to the blabber. I am easily threatened but I am not easily intrigued. Now while those two emotions may not often be found in the same sentence, I have a point.That girl sent me a link to some old blog, some old where, on the unfortunate network. After thus many years of

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-47543355953747737832007-02-23T20:48:00.000+05:302007-02-23T21:20:28.602+05:30

As usual, I’m tired. Weary of the un-creative rut I’m scrambling around in, trying to find higher ground. Every day, the rut goes deeper and it will only be harder to climb out when the time to run finally comes. Until then all I have to do is walk the line while looking to the horizon.But every now and then, the time comes when I need to drop my bags, turn around, crack my neck, furrow my brow

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1171364901430091802007-02-13T16:33:00.000+05:302007-02-13T16:38:21.430+05:30

Zooey was on Frasier... Yay, Miss D!!That is all.My Chemical Romance - Welcome To The Black ParadeRascall Flatts - Life Is A Highway

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1168664785044988772007-01-13T10:30:00.000+05:302007-02-13T16:29:41.506+05:30

Christmas is long past and it never even felt Christmassy. All I cared about was a break from work and before I knew it, it was Christmas and then it was gone. That was it and that was my “Happy Holiday”. Of course, things got a LOT better starting around New Year’s, but the season was lost. Again.This isn’t my first Christmas crib and it probably won’t be my last, but then that’s what I normally

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1167325316362478542006-12-28T22:26:00.000+05:302006-12-28T22:33:14.156+05:30

Damn this time-flying nonsense!I haven't had time to put together a decent post, but if I don't say something, the month is going to go by without me having said anything! And that hasn't happened in a VERY long time. So I'm not about to break that chain. I may not have much, but I do have my respectability.So anyway, here I am, not really saying anything yet, but having already said enough.Time

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1163566484923094402006-11-15T10:13:00.000+05:302006-11-16T01:44:05.076+05:30

Defining moments are few and far between during a single lifetime. It’s nice to have them because they do exactly what they say: define you at a point in your life. They give you a sense of security, an important thing in a world which is becoming increasingly insecure. And I’m not talking about security in the sense of safety; I mean security in the sense of self.I’m 23. One would say I’m not

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1162033868326609822006-10-28T16:37:00.000+05:302006-10-28T17:42:39.486+05:30

It’s late in the afternoonI’m wondering what clothes to wearI don’t need no make upI like my unkempt hairSaturday and I realize a bit too late that I'm too late for work.That darn Lily Allen.So here I am, at my desk, not working, in my bedroom slippers. Not that I mind too much. And they’re cool, nay, sexy slippers too. They’re Ralph Lauren slippers! I don’t know if Ralph has ever launched a line

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1158603508405045842006-09-18T23:42:00.000+05:302006-09-19T00:21:46.910+05:30

Indian advertising campaigns have lately reached a new low. As if girls making randy sounds at a watch or tittering over an unremarkably average small car wasn’t inane enough, Pepsi, yes, none of the [insert giant cola brand name here] crap this time around, have come up with a new ad slogan that just hit everything else out of the park. The blue billion is coming. Detestable cretins.As if it isn

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1156298254729042152006-08-23T07:08:00.000+05:302006-08-29T02:27:17.496+05:30

Sometimes I don’t have witty things to say (surprising, isn’t it?) and these are the times when I like to say random things. And that’s funny! No? It’s gotta be! The randomness of a statement contributes heavily to its humour quotient. Vectoresque, the two components of any statement are first, its intelligence and second, its relevance to the current subject. Simply adding the two together does

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1155375839794506782006-08-12T14:57:00.000+05:302006-08-13T08:29:10.576+05:30

The more I listen to music, the more I diversify my tastes, digging deeper through the strata of time and tunes and the more I try and take it everywhere with me, the more I realize my dependence on the thing. I’m sure it’s not normal in some way that is properly abnormal. I don’t know if it’s still just me enjoying the entertainment or if it’s reached a level where it has become my protective

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1154950438811075882006-08-07T16:54:00.000+05:302006-08-07T17:03:58.826+05:30

I know the premise of this one might sound really pathetic, but I’m thinking maybe it’s something a guy could relate to at least one time in his life.She’s so warm, in my armsI’ve never felt this feelingAnd she touches my heartI feel the old wounds healing.We’ll walk, hand in handAlong the moonlit milesHer face is always in shadowBut I still can hear her smileAll along the moonlit mileI still can

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1153787477558036052006-07-25T05:36:00.000+05:302006-08-01T01:58:54.243+05:30

Sly little thing… July thought she could just slip away without seeing anything new from me? Whatta bitch.Well, it’s July, (actually it’s almost August) a month I dislike even more than December. July brings the beginning of another year for me, but thankfully, another year less from the magic number in the big book. And now I’m 23. So what? Plenty of people are.I honestly don’t get the whole ‘

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1151139655228304162006-06-24T14:19:00.000+05:302006-06-26T20:45:57.246+05:30

Now that I’ve been blogging for close to a year, I know that I hate blogs. All blogs are blogged by egomaniacal pricks. From now on, this is NOT a blog. This WAS never a blog. This will never BE a blog. What the hell?! Everybody wants to “document” something or the other about their miserable little lives… it’s so fucking annoying. Stop wasting web space and my time! Visit any given blog on any

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1151064837843161602006-06-23T16:52:00.000+05:302006-06-23T17:53:05.456+05:30

I’m in love with this beautiful game!!! Don’t be daft, of course I’m not! Piss off yer fucking wankers!!Well it’s the season apparently, so as you can see, I’ve made honourable mention of the flavour of the month, right in my title. Ok, so it not all that honourable, but at least it’s a mention… I’ve even been considerate in case you happen to be across the Atlantic: Soccer!You know what they

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1147696301472667082006-05-15T17:46:00.000+05:302006-05-15T18:22:29.103+05:30

I go on and on about myself and my meandering musings. Day after day and post after post; filled with intertwining redundancies, judgmental opinions and the occasional self loathing comment, but carrying eternally unending attitude. One might even go so far as to presume that I am conceited. But I do think. I do think beyond myself.I make no pretense of being socially conscious or whatever you

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1145250012670422712006-04-17T09:21:00.000+05:302006-04-17T10:30:12.736+05:30

I’m 23!! Well not for a few more months, but still! I’m getting old… One day I’ll wake up and see the lines in my face and know that I’m 38. The next day I’m 52. And the next day I put a gun to my head. Its probably the same for everyone, all through your childhood you wish you were older. You’ll get to watch the movies you couldn’t before, you’re legally allowed to drink and drive although not

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1144530698417249642006-04-09T02:37:00.000+05:302006-04-09T02:56:03.040+05:30

There’s a new buzzword going around these parts these days. And they spake “Metrosexual” and it was good. Not good!! I’ve known of only two types of sexual orientations for as long as I can remember. Now it seems they’ve discovered a third. Maybe a fourth even – Retrosexual! At this rate coming out of the closet may have to take on more literal connotations.Apparently, to be “Metro” you must

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1143327274936083332006-03-26T03:58:00.000+05:302006-04-03T19:42:39.740+05:30

I used to scoff at the so called “Angry young man” stereotype that was so popular in movies. But now I’m beginning to understand why the angry chap is more than just a stupid symbol of crass, unfettered youth. Anger doesn’t go away ever, it just subsides to somewhere below the surface. If you’re angry about something, you’ll probably be angry about it years later even. If you’re not then you’ve

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1142368097558370362006-03-15T01:27:00.000+05:302006-04-09T02:13:16.736+05:30

Hip hop. I’m willing to bet there isn’t a civilized (and some not, even) country in the world which hasn’t been hit by the phenomenon. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if National Geographic ran a cover story on rapping pygmies!“I’m a P-Y-G, you can call me Rick. Only 3 foot 9, I got a 10 foot dick!”Catchy, you say?Hip hop has steadily been gaining momentum for the last decade or so, growing from

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1140755976392672662006-02-24T10:10:00.000+05:302006-03-15T03:09:30.243+05:30

Why do people hate Mondays? I don’t exactly like it like I like strawberries, but I don’t not-like it either.Is it because the weekend is over and you have to get back to work and you have to wait a whole five days before you can even think about putting your feet up?If you ask me, the real culprit is Sunday. Who would you hate more, the annoying old man who bangs on the door to break up the

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1139900217554557842006-02-14T12:10:00.000+05:302006-02-14T12:29:45.000+05:30

Everyone has a secret companion even though they might not realize who it is. When you come home, you’re coming home to her, when you leave on vacation, you won’t go without saying goodbye to her. And how many times has she saved your life?It’s almost reflexive, the number of times a day we stroll into the kitchen and open the refrigerator door. Hungry? Thirsty? Just plain bored? Check the

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1137667017102746172006-01-19T15:44:00.000+05:302006-01-20T08:09:48.513+05:30

This time I’m all about absurdity…Eeeeeeeeeeeeverybody wants to be famous...Number one on the list is American Idol. Or any Idol for that matter, except that I didn’t watch any of the others. No doubt some good has come of it in the form of Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood and Bo Bice, (I don’t like the other ones much) but all in all, it’s more like a freak show of talentless goofs setting

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1137165633549526942006-01-13T20:41:00.000+05:302006-02-14T13:05:22.690+05:30

I’m posting twice in the same week this time. Its simple, I have nothing much to do with my time, at least for now. Lets hope I don’t show up again before next week.I was watching TV the other day and I got to thinking. Its absurd how the most superficial idea of happiness next to breast enhancement and maybe the Playstation (game boxes, squares, cubes etc. inclusive) could be thought, thought

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1137060330196946322006-01-12T15:31:00.000+05:302006-01-12T15:35:30.690+05:30

I’ve tried to compose after almost two months, how time has flown.Anyway, I took some trouble here. This is supposed to be punk…don’t know if it’s turned out well enough.Take a look in the mirrorYou don’t like what it says,And you’re always feeling uglyNot like everybody else.Saw a boy at the bakeryHis eyes were shining blue,And the girls next door’s a princessSo she doesn’t look at you.Get up,

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1136369351308957202006-01-04T14:58:00.000+05:302006-01-04T23:01:11.623+05:30

Y’know what I hate? When the press refers to Indian women as actors. There is a whole separate word for them, don’t they know??? Hollywood actresses are, of course, actresses. But talk about Ms. Rai and company and they all suddenly turn masculine. Is that some sort of equal-rights-for-women thing that the Indian press is so keen on? If that’s the case, what about women in other countries? Or are

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1136037260844671112005-12-31T18:30:00.000+05:302006-01-04T16:06:57.716+05:30

Hey, hey, hey!! Its day #365.25 again and I need to make a worthwhile contribution to this page before the year re-login comes around. How f**kin’ geeky was that?! Re-login…But, butt, buttttt…. I like big butts and I cannot lie, You other brothers can’t deny, That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face, You get sprung!Hmm… Sir Mix-A-Lot lives still…No, I don’

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1134898596916085972005-12-18T14:49:00.000+05:302005-12-18T15:06:36.936+05:30

To tell the truth, I don't have a post. I do have something to say, but I haven't the time to say it right now.I'll get back to that in posts to come, but for now, to one and all, My Best Wishes of the Season.Have a Very Merry Christmas everyone!! Or as merry as you can manage... or try anyway, you just might get lucky... Hey, it's Christmas."God Bless Us everyone!" -- The Late, "Tiny" Tim

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1133506576599559712005-12-02T12:13:00.000+05:302005-12-02T12:26:20.703+05:30

I hoard. Music, newspapers, ticket stubs, notebooks from school and even pieces of toys from ages ago. For entertainment value, for sentimental value and even sometimes just because I have somewhere to keep them, I keep them. It can't be a good thing and probably isn't, because it shows my propensity to lug the past around behind me.I tend to forget things rather quickly. Possibly, I was dropped

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1131959588684773082005-11-14T14:40:00.000+05:302006-01-04T14:15:21.343+05:30

This is one I’ve written after a long time. And I’m really happy with it.If I, had a paintbrushI’d use it everydayTo fill my life, with more than gray[interlude]If I, had a paintboxOf vibrant colorsColors for each seasonAnd colors more than every reasonI’d paint over yesterdayWhat d’you say?And if I, had a paletteWith the colors of my lifeI’d substituteMy favorite moodWhen things just won’t go

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1131351285220378552005-11-07T13:26:00.000+05:302005-11-07T13:58:01.923+05:30

If you got here accidentally, Don’t Go Away without reading this:Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ‘99… wear sunscreen.If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.I will dispense this advice now.Enjoy the

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1128222167944239792005-11-01T12:31:00.000+05:302006-04-17T09:14:35.223+05:30

Things hardly anyone, if not noone, knows about me.Ok, these may also include reasons why no woman would marry me, but I’ve counted 40 so far.1. I cannot leave a newspaper unfolded along its original creases2. I’m the personification of procrastination3. I love an Australian accent4. I hate chat acronyms5. Coffee has never kept me up at night6. Alcohol has7. I never share cheese8. I’ve been

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1130145500673323282005-10-24T14:46:00.000+05:302005-10-24T14:49:16.340+05:30

I found this on msn spaces. Its good, so here it is. All credit to the dude who wrote this.Chinglish Rule: How to count from 1 to 10 with a Chinese accent.1 day I go 2 climb up a 3 outside a house to peep.But the couple saw me, so I panic and 4 down.The man rush out and wanted to 5 with me.I run until I fall 6 and throw up.So I go into 7 eleven and grab some 8 to throw at him.Then I took a 9 and

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1130144198235837472005-10-24T14:07:00.000+05:302005-10-24T14:52:23.803+05:30

Never expect anything. Keep hoping, never expecting. You’ll never give anyone the chance to let you down.Objects of desire are best left unattained. You’ll never have to find out the awful truth.Learn from the mistakes of your parents. They teach best when they aren’t aware they’re doing it.Never give a woman power. Seriously. There is no gender equality; women are just superior even if they don’

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1129877628443129742005-10-21T12:14:00.000+05:302005-10-21T12:23:48.450+05:30

Notice how I disappear so easily these days? No, I haven’t been any busier… haven’t been any lazier either. Haven’t watched any movies, haven’t gone out a lot, haven’t been studying too much, haven’t been sleeping too much, just where have I been?I’ve been right here, but probably still far, far away. Limbo, it is. Not here and yet, not there. Detachment through lack of accomplishment, it is.I

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1128320733815585332005-10-03T11:46:00.000+05:302005-10-21T12:47:30.466+05:30

If you’re a Christian and maybe even if you aren’t, chances are, at least one of your happy childhood memories will involve Christmas. Now I’m not much of a Christian, in fact the only reason that I put down “Christianity” in the blank space after “Religion: ” is because its what my parents practise. If things were left to me…well that’s a discussion for another day.Anyway, as I was saying, kid

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1127970005695680172005-09-29T10:23:00.000+05:302005-09-29T10:30:05.703+05:30

“I’m a silly flower trying to live my life in rhymeWhile the wind takes the years, one silly petal at a time.”- B. J. A.The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind.Bob Dylan got it so right. This is the most honest response to all of life’s questions.Yeah, I’m here again. Amid a recession, during which I contemplated dumping this blog because over-expression was trivializing my pursuit for

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1127281725044843622005-09-21T11:10:00.000+05:302005-09-21T11:32:17.283+05:30

I don’t know why the second verse has slight religious references... It’s just how it is.You look like an angelBut you sin like a whoreAt the end of the nightI’m still wanting you moreWhen we’re togetherThe room is on fireThe lower we goYou’re taking me higherBut when the games are doneThe clouds blow over the sunAnd I’m crying girl but it’s not for youI close my eyes and I findIts not you in the

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1125638837537953752005-09-02T10:57:00.000+05:302005-09-21T11:34:23.430+05:30

This one was written while I had “Imagine” on my mind. (No offence to the Genius of John Lennon) I think the song’s rhythmic influence shows up in parts. Now, though Imagine was supposed to be edged with Lennon’s cynicism, that didn’t carry through to here.Its almost May, still no flowersSuddenly, April showersFather and son, hand in handSuddenly, son’s a manWalking alone, counting the

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1125553648847547582005-09-01T09:06:00.000+05:302005-09-01T11:23:08.416+05:30

This was inspired by Aerosmith…It was supposed to be my first rock song but I’m not sure how its turned out.I’m on a road so lonelyI started out so boldlyThose days are gone…Lost in the dust behind me.I know I have been headstrongI’m lost, what did I do wrong?Forgive me…Give me one good chance, gimme one last rideI’m playin’ for my sanity, playin’ for my prideI’ll be going for the gold, never

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1125037529369396842005-08-26T11:39:00.000+05:302005-08-26T12:00:06.746+05:30

This is different style from anything else I've written so far. I think it might do good with a swing band and Robbie Williams...? Mr. Jones just flew inThe man who knows how to winThere he is in a Versace suitHe's a handsome young foxThinking outside the boxAnd a millionaire playboy to bootHe's Mr. Jones!He minds his Q's and his P'sA Tiger out on the teesAnd a hotshot when he's got a cueSmoking

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1124952243179252112005-08-25T12:10:00.003+05:302010-03-16T12:48:40.434+05:30

I try to call you all dayBut you don’t answer your phoneI need to tell you todayIf only you were at homeMy day has turned into nightThe way that we’ve grown apartDarkness determined to killJust like a stake through the heartSo I talk to myselfI gotta do this just rightBut then I’m falling apartAnd by the end of the nightI’ve hardly slept in my bedAnd all the medicine’s goneI stumble holding my

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1124696438962095532005-08-23T13:10:00.000+05:302005-08-26T12:10:40.900+05:30

I’ve written slightly soppy stuff for a change, but I like the feel of it.How do you start to be sorry?Where do you draw the line?Why do you always pretendWhen you tell me your life is fine?Will I see a real reaction?When will enough be too much?Although you know you’re just a deal to me,You never shrink from my touch.You give and you give But you don’t ever hurt,I grab and I runWhile you lie in

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1124528521898790952005-08-20T14:32:00.000+05:302005-08-20T14:39:45.733+05:30

India, my homeland. Maybe it wasn’t for my forefathers, but it is the land of my birth and continued existence. And unless I’m declared dangerous to the population, it’ll likely see my death too. It’s not the best land, with its poverty, illiteracy, unemployment, disease and the occasional natural and/or unnatural calamity, but it’s not a bad land. We’ve now completed 58 years of freedom from

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1124459004773924362005-08-19T18:44:00.000+05:302005-08-19T19:35:57.720+05:30

I’ve been meaning for some time now to talk about some stops I made while wandering the web. Interesting sites – interesting to me, anyway – with more to offer than is immediately apparent. But… I dunno… maybe it’s this dreary atmosphere, what with the rains back again (H2 Oh No!), that keeps me from unleashing (!) my creative outbursts on some well intended but unwitting domain. Adding to that,

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1124178145967136432005-08-16T13:00:00.001+05:302007-04-14T11:15:29.571+05:30

This place seems to be nothing short of an unending spout of my seemingly endless outpourings on my seemingly useless quest for definition.Well today I stop. No more excuses, no more trying to explain me and my idiosyncrasies. Take it or leave it. This is me, straight up, lump it.Why the apparent turn around? Television. Finally I’ve witnessed eye opening TV and it was gratifying to know that for

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1124013622251263042005-08-14T14:53:00.000+05:302005-08-18T18:33:25.973+05:30

The work that follows is not mine. It's something I came across somewhere, long ago and saved on my computer. Apparently I thought it was worth it, since I'd saved it to a disk and reloaded it after I got a new hard drive put in. Why did I think it was important enough? Because it was sincere. I don't approve of cheap chronicling of daily events in a diary... cribbing about how unfair someone at

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1123828516142327702005-08-12T11:37:00.000+05:302005-08-19T10:01:53.546+05:30

Lying in bed, late at night,I realize how my life's not right.It's not an ideal situation,Bordering right on desperation.I've changed my mind so many times,If I count them in cents, I'd have a million dimes...Too many people to please,So many paths to follow,Just for once,I wanna live like there's no tomorrow.But alas, I know, that can never beFor tomorrow comes, inspite of me. Another start to

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1123833098161328892005-08-10T13:05:00.000+05:302005-08-18T18:36:06.130+05:30

Here's a little ditty I wrote for my friends on the msn group that I used to manage. Thought I'd share it here too. .Attention please, y'all dudes and dudettes, y'all prudes and prudettes,Something's goin' down, it ain't a new show but you just gotta know,if things don't happen you can get up and go.This used to be the field where the players play, goin' on everydayabout feelin' good in life,

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1123143629168611932005-08-04T11:42:00.000+05:302005-08-18T16:43:21.543+05:30

Yup, we’re still on the subject of Friends. Lately I’ve had to say goodbye to a few friends, some really close to my heart. It’s been difficult to accept the reality that I didn’t know if I’d ever see them again. Like many others before them, they’ve left for the US in pursuit of a ‘higher’ education. Now, I have no decisive plan for my future as yet, so I admire them for having direction in

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1123141551679747172005-08-03T13:00:00.000+05:302005-08-18T18:36:58.766+05:30

Friends, the sitcom probably familiar, at least vaguely, to most of the educated world. “What strangeness is this, what manner of witchery?” Something that can so easily endear itself to the hearts of millions. Ranging from passion for some, to obsession for others, Friends has marked its place as a television Hall-of -Famer.Although I’m a fan of the show, I’ve never fully comprehended its

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1122622054047087672005-07-29T13:01:00.000+05:302005-08-18T18:41:10.523+05:30

Ah, I’m back! Let’s see what we have today… A few years ago, on New Years’ Eve, a friend asked me, “So tell me, how do you stay ‘just friends’ with a girl? I’ve never understood that…” I thought it was the easiest thing in the world… Of course, at the time, he was going steady with his girlfriend of two years and I had no one. So I say, “Nothing simpler. Just don’t think of her as a girl!” He

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1122477941120175212005-07-27T20:19:00.000+05:302005-08-18T18:50:16.520+05:30

Life is nothing more than a compendium of random events, randomly spaced in time and occurring with no particular premeditation. Nothing is supposed to happen. Everything does. Sometimes, the best way to fully enjoy life is to live it one day at a time. Don’t think too far ahead, you’ll miss what’s right in front of you.Family and loved ones come before all else. Don’t give your life to your work

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1122617625391608052005-07-26T11:19:00.000+05:302005-08-19T17:52:30.560+05:30

Alright, so I’m twentysomething… I know the stuff I post may been akin to the outpourings of a teenage mind and may continue to seem so for some time to come. But then my teen years saw me as a somewhat nerdy kid, bottled up emotions, few friends and even fewer opinions. I never really opened up to anybody, not even mom, supposedly the solace for teenage angst, and as a result, I’ve pretty much

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1122300542275598582005-07-25T19:35:00.000+05:302005-08-04T14:21:00.486+05:30

This has a sad movie written ALL over it! http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2-1614077,00.html

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1122613472577671092005-07-24T10:27:00.000+05:302005-08-19T17:53:29.086+05:30

They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis." It is when you stop goingalong with the crowd and start realizing that there are many thingsabout yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You startfeeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, butthen get scared because you barely know where you are now.You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, thosefriends that

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1122110136930262012005-07-23T14:30:00.000+05:302005-08-18T18:47:04.783+05:30

Ok, I know I haven't really begun posting anything personal yet... I was going to start today, but I found myself going further and further away from this page as I wandered the infinity of the internet. Anyhoo, I'm still putting this up as a temporary filler. Honestly, there's nothing better to read as passtime than Simpsons and Austin Powers quotes! So... from now on whenever I'm out of things

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1121930169830123342005-07-21T12:34:00.000+05:302005-07-27T21:15:11.183+05:30

Alrighty then! I've had this blog for about a month now, I guess, but I haven't posted a single thing, save a few pics of Rachel Stevens and now, The Rock and Gwen. Ok, some of the old Rachel pics are gone and now begins the real posting. I've just about realised what can actually be done with a blog, so this is gonna be my personal space where the myriad thoughts flowing through this sometimes

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1121927593419160972005-07-21T12:03:00.000+05:302005-08-04T14:17:52.940+05:30

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13686584.post-1118895521903031022005-06-16T09:48:00.000+05:302005-08-04T14:18:24.963+05:30

Björnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12158732680764110062noreply@blogger.com0