Story of the dumbass

Before you start reading I must say that this story has no resolution. It’s full of dumbasstic moments of misguided overly concentrated apparently grand acts of faith and fickleness.

Our hero A, the dumbass, is single, awesome and brimming brilliantly with Love. He used to think he could make a girl believe that she is the luckiest girl alive.

Our princess, B is an extraordinarily awesome girl, strong, confident, smart, brilliant. B met A and A fell in Love, like a few times before. And A thought B likes him too. And that starts the great moments of fondness, exaggerated by As Love for B.

This angel, C, is also an awesome girl. Fun loving, happy, smiling angel. A felt this inordinate fondness for C since they met. A is bad at expressing and socializing, so according to him it never went up. After the great episode of fondness with B and A began, the angel stopped flying and A felt he could make her fly again, and his fondness for C turned to Love. At that time A became more awesome and being faithful to the concepts of Love, he tried to grab the angels’ hand and tried to tell her that he loves her; only horribly A came to know she never did stop flying and she cannot help him fly.

In great sadness and despair A went to B to tell him all about the events he experienced with C, expecting that B would understand his faith towards honesty and take him back, forgiving his infidelity. The dumbasses’ expressions run wild while he failed to express his Love for B. B went away only to meet A at dire times when when A is about to break. Bs whisper calms A like nothing else, yet B goes away everytime. A started to think if B really couldn’t forgive his infidelity; With whole big black veil of guilt he wrapped his heart.

Like a desert creature wait for a little rain under the unforgiving sun, A started to wait for those little rare flashes of B that supplies A little sips of fuel to live on.

Nice read!

I was about to write something like this but as I found such an awesome post, better I put re-blog it, instead of writing it…

Adrian vs. the World

“People don’t realize this but loneliness, it’s underrated.” No, I didn’t write it. Yes, it’s from a movie. Doesn’t make it less true.

It’s no secret that I absolutely adore (500) Days of Summer. As a film, it transcends generations through its boldfaced honesty and reaches to the hopeless romantic in each of us. Tom, the hopeful hero of the story, is a character who we all can relate to. Just like him, we’re eventually drawn to the idea of true love at some point in our lives. But that’s through no fault of our own. We’d see it in movies, hear it play on the radio, and read about it in books. We’re exposed to it at such a young age that it becomes more of a goal than our own dreams, which is pretty much what happened to Tom. He’s the only enduring human trait throughout the…

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My Mess

Right now I am trying to let it out, by crying the hell out of me. I notice I cannot even cry like I used to.

Self respect, according to common notion I don’t have any. A fickle heart is what I have, and it feels like a curse. A fussy collection of principles is what I am made of. It would be wrong if I say I am good for nothing, no-one, nobody and not even for neverland, but tonight I believe I am. If I had all these a thoughts few hours ago, I would say to myself ‘I can do this this and this; LIKE A BOSS’. But not now, not tonight; I snapped tonight, like many other nights before. But today I snapped in the wake of this horrible realization. I am not crazy for anyone, I am not crazy for anything, any goal, any objective. I am just sad for everything, everyone. I am not obsessed with anything, I am just sad that I cannot attain anything. Perhaps I couldn’t hide it to my conscience anymore that I truly am a horribly miserable joke of genetic shuffles and randomness and the worst part of this, I cannot change it. Whenever I snap I think I will change, but in this circle I come back to where I started. ‘Don’t pray for eaiser life, pray for strength to endure a harder one’. Some lucky bloke said this. I am not like this bloke. Right now I am scared that I have to live like for the rest of my life. Shall I wait for a miracle? Or shall I keep up my over ambitious dreams and live on? Or shall I end my life?

Wait a min…

If I am a worthless meat ball consuming resources from this beautiful arc hovering in space, undeserving and incapable of sweet things such as love, success, happiness; How the hell did I become this big? How for the f**ck’s sake in my 22 years of existence I didn’t get to stay hungry for one single day? How did I even end up living with everything that’s needed to live? And how the f**k I get to hang out with other awesome human beings? And how did I even walk on this fearless planet with a sense of adevnture in my veins? HOW? It’s my parents, my friends, my masters, my bros. It is my life, my messy life, my relentlessly epic life. And you are damn right I am not giving up on my life! And being crazy? Yeah, it’s never too late.


It was my first time. Two bottles of beer. Local brew. I could feel the alcohol upsetting my system. My head was turning. I was talking about my rejections, it was actually funny at that time rather than being very sad. The thought that I usually force over my mind, ‘live on and and don’t be sad’ was coming naturally. We all opened up. All three of us.

We were walking. Headlights of trucks, lorries and cars, bright dots from far away. Those headlights were so funny! I was laughing! I was laughing whenever I was toppling down the aisle. And the sodium vapour street lights? Those were liek the weirdest things I ever saw. My gait was like a sinusoidal curve. I was laughing as my wannabe gung-ho wild west mindset. I was laughing at my life. I was laughing at the miserable state I was in while trying to keep control of my life. I was laughing that I don’t care and totally ready to move on with my life. I was laughing at the fact that I was literally DRUNK!

I lied down, turned up ‘Pink Floyd – Coming back to life’, got up, vomited, cleaned up and I slowly let go.

I felt good…


Suggestions are a very good thing. It makes you feel comfortable with a confusion. They can persuade you to embrace ideas that you never knew existed in your mind. Suggestions sometimes make you think the other way round. And sometimes suggestions can make you a complete dumbass. If you asked my few days ago how I do take suggestions, I would probably say, I am open to all suggestions. Now I would definitely prefer to hear and analyze the whole suggestion before I wrap my head around it.

After taking the a suggestion few days ago, I realized expressions are not always meant to do what they are originally meant for. The original suggestion was in the form, ‘Let go, stop trying’. I didn’t only let go, I let the person suggesting compose my expressions for me. You should never let someone else talk for you heart, you should let go of your heart yourself. I made a mistake!

It felt real good when she replied, she poked back. It’s not like that anymore. It’s a guilt for not expressing what I actually meant and I cannot do anything to fix it. It’s only been a few days without an exchange and I feel wrecked. I wish I was stronger than this. I don’t like regrets, I try not to wish that I didn’t do what I did.

I have faith in time, in life and in people who come in my life. And the only one thing I can do is hope everything will be alright. Till then I will keep listening to songs, keep my head down, take the loss, and dream impossible dreams, keep high hopes to make myself walk on.

Keeping memories

There are characters that we want to keep close. They sometimes inspire us, they sometimes show us light when everything us dark and sometimes we just want to share our happiness with them. Reality is we cannot always keep them as close to our lives as we want and in those times, we keep memories. And the special part associated with keeping memories is the way we usually keep memories.

We keeps things, materials associated with their and our lives to keep our memories rejuvenate from time to time. We talk to the memories when we are alone, when we are sad, when we are in dark.

I did some crazy things to keep memories. Keeping photos was a cliche to me.

Reprinting a painting

Once I scanned a painting of a Alexey Maresyev and another man (I don’t remember the name) from a edition of Story of a Real Man by Boris Polevoi and printed it just to keep them with me. I didn’t have a cellphone then. I was 15 then. I was truly a mess. And I yearned the courage Alexey had and dreamed of doing great things, like him. Let me tell you what he did. He was a Soviet fighter pilot. After his plane crashed, he crawled through the wild for 18 days to be picked up by local villagers and in the end his legs were amputated. He doggedly trained himself to fly with stumps. The other guy inspired Alexei to fly again no-matter-what. This print was with me for many days but I did lose it eventually. I still do think about Alexei but now I am more capable of fueling myself. 🙂

Keeping a bunch of papers from a notebook

She was my big crush, first technically complete love and eventually in time she left me. I yearned for her return pretty badly and kept stuff associated with her. Among many attempts to keep memories of her, this was weird. I kept some her notebook pages. She has a nice handwriting by-the-way. I kept those, looked at those at times and thought about the time we spent together. Nice way to keep memories. 😛 I dont’ have those anymore (MOVING ON!).

Keeping an autograph on a notebook

I met a girl. She is awesome. She is nice, calm, sweet and AWESOME! I didn’t had the chance to get some photos of her, so what did I do? I kept a signature of her. She showed it to me and I thought, ‘Wow! This is a nice signature!’. I asked her to do it again on my notebook, and I kept my notebook. I made things with that signature, but I kept it with me. I took the notebook wherever I went. And sometimes opened it up to check the signature. The lines that went into the details of the signature. The general form of it. The signature was there with me until I had to leave the notebook at a place in an errand. I am sure I will get it back again, I just don’t know when.

And now…

Now it seems all these weird things happened because I didn’t have a better way to keep memories. I didn’t have photos, I didn’t have videos, I didn’t have recorded voices. And I realized this when I saw a beautiful photo of the beautiful Girl I mentioned earlier (The signature girl). What did I do? I downloaded and kept the photo of her in my phone. For the first time ever I actually am keeping a photo of a girl I love in my phone! Previously I thought keeping a girl in my heart was enough but the photo is actually reminding vividly and I love it that way!

My conclusion

My conclusion is, cliche or no-cliche, keep memories the way you want, they are as good as your dreams are. They are a significant part of all-you-got.