Mr. Jones

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 in
The man who knows how to win
There he is in a Versace suit
He's a handsome young fox
Thinking outside the box
And a millionaire playboy to boot
He's Mr. Jones!

He minds his Q's and his P's
A Tiger out on the tees
And a hotshot when he's got a cue
Smoking Cuban cigars
Driving fast fancy cars
Shaking more than a cocktail or two
The, Mr. Jones!

Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones
How do you get around?
With your money loaded pockets
You're still two feet off the ground

With a wink and a smile
You'll fall prey to his wile
He'll undress you and you wouldn't know
With his hand up your skirt
He's no ordinary flirt
9 '0 clock and its time to go
Please, Mr. Jones!

He's a dangerous lover
Working under the covers
He's the master of all things obscene
Better than all the rest
When it comes to the test
He could end up seducing the Queen
Oh, Mr. Jones!

Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones
How do you learn your tricks?
With your velvet pickup lines
You're a favorite with the chicks

All the fellas
They're so jealous
Of life in the super fast lane
He knows he's the best
He owns the keys to success
And he never runs out of champagne
That's Mr. Jones!


And here's the more well known 'Mr. Jones' by Counting Crows.

Swansong

I try to call you all day
But you don’t answer your phone
I need to tell you today
If only you were at home
My day has turned into night
The way that we’ve grown apart
Darkness determined to kill
Just like a stake through the heart
So I talk to myself
I gotta do this just right
But then I’m falling apart
And by the end of the night
I’ve hardly slept in my bed
And all the medicine’s gone
I stumble holding my head
Until I fall by the phone
I’m trying to call out to you
By now I can’t hardly speak
And then I know that I’m dying
I feel the cold grab my feet
It’s getting harder to breathe
I hear old Grim start to knock
And when I’m ready to leave
You turn the key in the lock
I can see you’ve been crying
Your face is swollen and sore
And then I hate that I’m dying
Don’t wanna hurt you no more
I see the fear in your eyes
As you open the door
And then the crash of your bags
And then you’re there on the floor
Before you cry out to me
My tears could cry out the tale
They say I murdered myself
I never wanted to fail
But then I murdered you too
I took your chance for a life
I’ve just killed all of your dreams
Stabbed them all with a knife
Now all I see is your face
Green eyes I love and I know
And they’re the last sight I see
Just as I feel myself go

Why do you look at me?

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 pretend
When 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 run
While you lie in the dirt.
As long as you love me
You’ll never be free…
Why do you even look at me?

I can feel your lips, how they tremble,
I only hurt you with each kiss.
I can see you cry with every goodbye,
What did you do to deserve this?
My pillow’s cold when you awaken
When you need me close I’ll be away,
I’m never there to hold you when it’s dark
But you pray for real love one day.

You give and you give
But you don’t ever hurt,
I grab and I run
While you lie in the dirt.
As long as you love me
You’ll never be free…
Why do you even look at me?

Silence is a killer.
Don’t become another victim.
I don’t love you, I’m using you.
Why do you look at me?
Just, Stop.

Romance has no real meaning
I can’t hear the songs anymore.
You’ve lost the lover I used to be
And you’ll always be a whore.
Don’t you know the end has come?
Don’t waste sweet tears in crying.
I will always let you down,
I will leave you dying.

You give and you give
But you don’t ever hurt,
I grab and I run.
I leave you lying in the dirt.
As long as you love me,
You can never be free.
I needed you once, but no more…
Why do you still look at me?

Taking down the Fourth Estate

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 British Rule, the acquisition of which, considering the manner in which it was done, remains a feat in itself. India has more universities than any single country in the world, producing leading minds in research, economics and technology. India has recently asserted its nuclear capabilities, the stock exchange has been scaling unprecedented heights of late and, well theoretically anyway, we have a champion cricket team.
Hmm…maybe we are developing after all.
But every time I begin to feel the slightest swell of national pride, this country never fails to stomp it out and piss me off. The aforementioned plagues of this land have been covered so many times that it’s not worth even going there.
The latest “step forward” I’ve heard of on the news is the censorship of printed media… After film and television have been well sanitized “so as not to affect the viewers’ sensibilities”, the printed word remained the last bastion of mostly free speech. Now they’re threatening to storm that fort too.

I know press censorship isn’t anything new anywhere in the world. Censoring for government control and political reasons isn’t unheard of. But here the argument seems to be that parents need to be able to control what their children read. The focus would be mainly on “sexual content”, which is not a big surprise. Oh please! When was the last time you saw a nude centerfold in a newspaper? Or “Ten sex tips to drive your man wild”? Understandably, every country ergo every culture has its own mores and limits of tolerance. But there has to be some reasonable logic to it.
Censoring films and television is acceptable to an extent. They are, for the most part, fiction and can afford a few less cherries on the cake. But dropping articles from newspapers so your kid doesn’t ask awkward questions is just crossing too many lines. Until now the printed media has enjoyed the freedom to call spade a spade, while every other medium of mass communication has held its tongue. Take that away and you’re left with nothing but veiled words and winks.
Children are gonna grow up in a world filled with too many Parental Guidance tags. Newspapers will miss their big scoop the next time a celebrity loses her top because Junior gets curious when he sees the word nipple.
And that’s not all, what about the people who actually read the paper? Yeah, that’s right, the adults. We need the occasional tabloid trash to spice up our day. All we’re gonna have left is the little league version of the daily blah; hardly something worth wasting a perfectly good cup of coffee on.

Show thyself !

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, Winamp seems intent on Britney Spears today. Cap it off with a shitty space bar on my keyboard and it paints a very sorry picture. Herewego, wait,no, backagain… Bang! Bang! I’ll gladly hit you one more time, baby… Smash! Why doesn’t this thing just break so I can get a new one? Maybe the cat should take a whizz on it… Maybe it already did! Crap…
I just wanna say at this point, that this is shaping up to be probably my worst post to date. No, I’m quite sure of it, but I just wanted to put something here to christen the new look.
Oh yes, just remembered something I can rant about! I am the Ranting Swede! Except that I'm not really Swedish...
I’ve been checking out a lot of other blogs lately, ‘cos being a newbie and all, I wanted to see what people are talking about. And surprisingly, I do sometimes get tired of talking about myself! Here’s what I don’t get. There are plenty of people out there who use their space as a simple diary to log their daily drama. (Or lack of it) Fine, if you wanna check what you did forty seven days ago, that’s your beeswax. But what’s with the signing in and out… “Bye for now!” Or “Seeya next time…” or “Byee!” (with the Smileys!) Who is this target audience? And don’t miss the big “Hi!” or “Hey, it’s me again!”
Yeah and I was expecting Dustin Hoffman…
Okay, so you keep a diary, it’s your personal account, your day, the events that shaped it, what a tramp your neighbor is, how your guy/girl isn’t putting out… whatever.
1. Its called the World Wide Web
2. Do you really have to tell All That to the World Wide Web?

Alright, when I started this, I too thought it would be a nice little cove where I could say what I want and keep all my daily doings. Well, I’m damn well saying what I want but I’m keeping my daily doings out of it. The internet has enough space wasted on useless trifles without being further polluted by what is ironically ‘nothing’. If you have something to say, spit it out. But don’t just keep spraying it without actually saying anything at all. True, everybody has a right to be heard…but you gotta say something first.
It’s exhibitionism- the essence. Exhibitionists aren’t just those dare to bare types, y’know, the ones who’ll flash a passing bus for no good reason, or strip down on what is clearly not a nudist beach, or the streakers who run out during the biggest game of the season, compelling millions of unwary strangers to bask in the glory of their unsheathed unmentionables. There’s an exhibitionist and a voyeur in everyone, one fulfilling the desire of the other. And for every individual bold enough to put on even the tiniest show, there’ll be plenty queuing for dress circle seats.
Peeping through shower curtains and keyholes is passé. Now it’s about getting into people’s minds and into their lives. That’s why Reality TV rules, isn’t it?

Day One

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 once, I had more than just a faint idea of what she was talking about, ‘cos that was exactly my life! Just without the trailer park.
You can’t go through life without the unrelenting pressure on your back. It starts with parents, your siblings, friends, teachers, your boss, new friends, colleagues, your girlfriend, the wife, the in-laws, children, the other woman you’re seeing, the kids’ education, old friends, home loans, it doesn’t end. What does matter, is the path you take so it doesn’t swallow you. You can either go from day to day bearing the burden while constantly trying to justify yourself to everyone who points a finger at you, and there’re lots of them, or you can stop; instead of striving for definition while towing the line, make your own rules. Every time I’ve tried to justify myself, I noticed that it changed slightly since the last time. Which led me to clarity. For some people, there is no definition, just gray lines of text that you have to read between to get a fuzzy look at the core. So in the end, all the attempts to reverse the pointing fingers have been exercises in futility, ‘cos they all add up to a big fat nothing.
It’s been all around me, in every movie I've liked, in my choice of music, my choice of food, my clothes, the drinks I favor, my role models, even down to my favorite car. I’ve just never been able to put my finger down on it because I’ve been too busy with the D word. It’s taken me this long to figure out that the simplest way to define me is, don’t.
Living free from the mundane is what sets the people I admire apart from the others. It’s the something I’ve wondered about for so many hours, which makes the difference between a loser and a non-loser. What is a non-loser anyway? Just a winner who hasn’t won yet. And to win, you just need to make yourself happy, not the world. Don’t get me wrong, I’m 100% grateful every single day for everything I’m getting from my parents and I will give back whenever the time comes. But bottomline, I have a life to live.
I’m a slacker, openly. I have been and always will be, don’t think I can change that. But why I will eventually have my cake and eat it too is because I’m accepting my slackness and I’m willing to make the best I can of it. I’m not alone here, there’s an entire generation out there living the same deal as me. Intelligent youth, blessed with education and opportunity, who choose not to jump through the hoop just to go with the system. I choose to settle for apparent mediocrity so that I can achieve my own envisionment of excellence. Once I get there, I’ll be happy irrespective of what anyone else thinks, because, quite simply, it won’t matter.
Friend tells me that I take on a fake persona in public, hiding the real me; and I’ve spent time trying to convince him otherwise. No need to guess, WRONG! We all have that face we need to put on before we show ourselves to “somebody”. The same somebody who puts that pressure on our already laden shoulders. Well, I’m gonna try and shed that skin ‘cos I’m tired of biding my time and hiding. The way I’m headed, I know I'll never fit the description of having made it big, but at least this is the first step to knowing that I will be happy. And every day that I’m happy, I’m a winner again.
I’ve spent the last 22 years making myself into what I am today. That’s a joke! I haven’t a clue. A graduate? Yeah, right. I don’t know what I am today. This is a statement I could well make every day for the rest of my life without it ever being false, because there is no definite me, nor will there ever be.
You think this is nothing but a stereotypical sorry excuse from a Gen Y lazy sonofabitch? Go ahead, take your shot. I won’t hold it against you; you have your opinion and I have my way.
Life never settles down so you can sit back and admire what you are on a particular day. Life and everything in it, is always just a work in progress, nothing more, nothing less.
Everyday is a beginning. Today is Day One.
Tomorrow is Day One. And the day after that and the day after that.

Chronicle

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 school is or how your favorite goldfish died. I like this little paragraph here because it has sensible sentiment. No crying over hurt, no cursing lost love, but just simple putting feeling into words. And, it kinda reminded me of what I did once upon a time when I was badly let down. Enough of me, read what the dude has to say.

Love?? It is the greatest thing in the world. Without it there is nothing worth living for. Whether you find love in your job, your family, a hobby, or a companion, it is the greatest thing ever. Yes, it does hurt, even more than it feels wonderful. But, you have to realize that the positive side of love outweighs the negative side of love by far. I am 24 and I am going to be 25 this coming 08/29/04. I met my fiance on 09/06/03 on a Saturday night. It was a blind date set up by my best friend and his fiance. I didn't know what to expect. I wasn't looking for that one special person, but just to have fun that night. Well, I kept on seeing her and let her know that I wanted to be with her exclusively. We fell in love. She was so beautiful the first night I met her. I fell in love with her beauty, her smile, her personality, and her laughter. We have so much in common. Well, I asked her to marry me almost 2 months later on 10/30/03, the night before Halloween. We had our mountains to climb and most times it looked like we weren't going to make it over. Well, it looks like I am stuck in between love and reality. On tonight, 06/18/04 we got in a fight because she has a problem with controlling her alcohol. Now, she doesn't want to be with me and I can't tell if it is the alcohol or her true feelings. Love hurts. She makes my world go around. I am not sure if I will go to Heaven or not. I love God and I might not do the right things here with my time on Earth, but I love Shannon E. McGrory and I will always love her. We are supposed to get married in 11 weeks on 08/28/04 the day before my birthday. Everything is set and paid for. But, she told me tonight she doesn't want to marry me. I got frustrated with her tonight and I said something I shouldn't because she was getting out of control. I called her a whore. I didn't mean it but I am a guy with a lot of testosterone and it came out. I apologized immediately but she took it to heart and ran with it and said she doesn't want to marry me. She was drunk and this wasn't the first time that alcohol has caused us pain. I don't know what is going to happen when she wakes up. Will she stick with what she remembers and think I was a jerk and say she doesn't want to marry me or will she hug me and will we forgive each other? I don't know. That is what hurts. Waiting to see your dreams and hopes to be crushed or fulfilled. I don't love her because she is beautiful or because her body is unbelievable to my eye and heart. I don't love her because she loves me. I love her because of the little things I do for her and she does for me. The first night we were together on our blind date she was driving and we were a little shy and weren't talking to each other and she lightened the mood and gave me a wet willy. (lick your finger and stick it in someone's ear.) This would gross some people out but it made my heart melt. She touched my heart and didn't even know it. When she calls me baby or when she thinks about me or when she hugs me or when she looks at me like she could just wrap her whole body around me. Yes, we make love all the time and we are very sexual. But, those are only extra things. Every normal guy can take that to the extreme and make the girl feel like that is all we want, but that is a guy thing and you just have to understand that and realize where we are coming from. I just can't keep my hands off of her. I have never cheated on her nor put myself in the position to cheat on her and I could never cheat on her. I feel so bad for calling her a whore. I was mad and frustrated and that is what popped out of my mouth. I would take it back if I could. I can't live with out her. I only want to make her happy and if that is being without me then she shall have that. I hold her way above me. Yes, you should love yourself first before you love someone else. I do love myself. I have accomplished so much that some guys would dream of. I played highschool ball and took the team to the state tournament and I hit the winning basket and I got a full ride to a Div 2 basketball school here in Memphis and I am in great shape and health. I have a decent job now and I will get my MBA. But, none of that doesn't mean anything without Shannon. I would take all of that off of my resume of life just to have her back and marry her. The whole point of this is that you asked, "How do you know when you truly love someone?" Well, you truly love someone when you can let them go and let them be happy. It sucks because most of the time the other one that you love decides to do that. But, one kiss of that person, one touch, one hug, one whisper in your ear, means an eternity of love. You may not have them in your arms every night but your memories are there forever. You have to love more than the pain. I can't move on. I have chosen my true love and she has chosen me. Now that I know who my love is I can't love another. Sure, if Shannon decides not to be with me, she will see someone else down the road and maybe I will too, but at night I will only think of her and her breath and her touch and her beautiful voice. I am not weird nor pathetic nor a psychopath. I am in love. She is the love of my life and I will not stop till she doesn't want to come back. I make mistakes and I forgive her of hers, but I know I can't be treated like a dog and keep waiting for her to come back. But it is my choice to fight it out to the end and if I don't fight at all and give up, then I have lost no matter what. I will die trying and suffer by just not doing anything. I would rather die than suffer. I know this is long and you might be mad at me because I didn't answer your question. Just love that person. Love is 80% true love, 10% faith, and 10% commitment. Just because you are in love with someone doesn't mean that it is going to be easy. Jesus had to suffer just to give us an eternity of life and forgiveness. We all fall short of our goal but it is the commitment and heart that keeps us straight. Love that person and you will have your fights and differences, but just don't ever forget that it is part of life and you really love that person. Don't let big things ruin your love, because it is the little things that keep it strong.

Midnight Musings

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 be
For tomorrow comes, inspite of me.
Another start to another day,
The end of which, might hear me say
"Tomorrow I'm gonna start anew,
Gonna settle down to what I need to do!"
But I'll know I'm telling myself a lie,
'Cos you bite the dust when you aim too high.

I know I got a request for more cheerful posts since the last one, but I can't help it, it's the mood holding sway right now...

I'd made a plan of what I needed to do with my life months ago, in fact, it's what made me quit my comfy job. But since then, something's held me back from getting on with it. I can't really explain what it is, but I know from past experience that when it tugs at me, I shouldn't ignore it... In this case, I don't know if it's the same 'something' I know or if it's just the hesitance before stepping out into the unknown. Whatever the reason, I don't have the balls to tell it to anyone who asks, because I'm afraid I'm starting to let them all down.

Monologue

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 everyday
about feelin' good in life, beating strife on the edge of a knife.
Somehow one day things went astray... now who's gonna play?
Take my advice, I don't need it, you gotta feel it
in your bones, the stepping stones to success can put you to the test
and leave you cleaning up your own mess.
So grab your pie while you still can, it's gonna be every man
or woman for themselves when it comes down to the wire,
trial by fire is always met alone.
You can't go home, once you step out,
there's always a doubt if you can ever make it on your own.

When you gotta say, you just gotta say,
I hardly pray 'cos I know I make my day
as good or bad as it will be, it's all about me
and the money, honey. Thats what it's down to eventually;
Do you have the green moolah making machine?
Can't hold back the years, before you realize your fears
you better get up and start to make it, learn to take it
on the chin with a smile, while you walk the last lonely mile
towards your destiny or fate.
And finally, when your time is through, any dream will do
for you, as colors fade into darkness you start to think less
of yourself, 'cos if you don't live for something, you die for nothing.

So get off your asses, media-swayed masses, don't be like me,
you need to break free into the blue, like the dawn of day
with the music playin', but not sayin' the name of the man,
beejay.

Out.

Silence is not a precious metal

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 their lives.
The strange thing is, I had the least to say in terms of Goodbye, to the friends I valued most. Calling them or being there physically didn’t matter; I couldn’t bring up much at all. I wondered if this was due to my apparent fear of open emotiveness (if that is even a word) or was it just me being me, freezing at the time of trial. It couldn’t be the first; after all, these were my friends, to whom I told everything. It couldn’t be the second…after all, these were my friends with whom I was most comfortable.
The answer came to me as I lay in bed at night, pondering my inability to express myself to the people I cared about... These were not my friends.
How do you put ‘friendship’ into words? Easy enough, check your nearest dictionary for a nice juicy meaning, complete with synonyms. How do you put ‘more than friendship’ into words? Webster, Roget and Co. are stumped too. These weren’t my friends, these were my best friends. When friendship transcends mere pleasantry, gifts and companionship and enters the realm of ‘Together till the End’ that’s when words fail you. Although ‘together’ here may not connote ‘together’ in a physical sense, I think my point can be well enough understood.
I normally NEVER use extremisms like the one above, ‘World’s Best Dad’ and so on, but in this case the context is perfect.
I know that the possibility I may never speak to them face to face again is a very real one, since we’re only beginning our journey into life and there many roads to be travelled. But, I will still, always, count them as my best friends, because I know that no amount of eloquence or simplicity will enable me to explain to them the impact they’ve had on my life and how much they mean to me.

Phenomenon

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 magnitude until very recently. Now, in India we’re obviously off the NBC, CBS, ABC, LMNOP and whatever, radar, so what we get are reruns. Lots of reruns. So, one evening at dinner, (or supper, whatever…) Friends is on, Mom is at the dinner table, facing away, and I’m on the couch. Five minutes into the show, she suddenly looks around and says, “Oh, this is the one about Phoebe’s grandmother’s cookies!” What strangeness is this? What manner of witchery? This from a woman who was dining peacefully, apparently oblivious to the charms of the TV… In any case, I don’t recall an occasion when I’ve actually seen her watch a complete episode. What then, was it about the show, that imprinted itself so quickly in the mind of a mere observer?
I remember when I started watching. I was maybe, 16, refusing to get out of bed at 7 in the evening, while complaining of a stomach-ache. Mom dragged me out and sat me in front of the TV. “Here,” she said, “Take your mind off it.” Flipping through channels, I came across Friends after a bit. Now, at the time, this was a fairly ‘new’ show on Indian television, so I stopped to take a look. It was the ‘ballpark’ episode, where Richard and Monica count how many ex-lovers each has had. I haven’t stopped watching since. Season 9 has been rerun, I dunno how many times, but I haven’t stopped yet, even though season 10 is long gone.
Friends has its critics too, even on the show! No, I’m not gonna repeat what they’ve said…look it up. But I’ll always be a fan. Can’t really put my finger on what I like about it, though… the somewhat cheesy comedy of Joey, the obsessive Monica, ditzy Phoebe, “Dunno what I want” Rachel, awkwardly sweet Ross… or is it the satirical funnyman Chandler?
The reason, I guess, lies in looking at ourselves. There are six central characters, but each is multifaceted so that we all see a part of ourselves in one, if not more of them. Narcissistic as we monkeys are, we’re drawn towards ourselves. It’s nice to see ordinary people just like us, doing stuff we’d do too. Although I doubt that many of us would run through the streets chasing a bus, while carrying a baby carriage…
Strange though, how Mom figured in my first as well my most recent revelatory brush with friends… Of course, this is the same Mom who starts movin’ to Eminem’s Without Me and is a fan of Jason Voorhees and Freddy Krueger. Go figure.

Authors note: I kinda fancy myself as a cross between Chandler and Ross. Rondler…?