thamasoma jyothirgamaya or from darkness to light

sleep? what is it?

its been three years since i slept, the way we were supposed to sleep.

the streets were walked by us.

We never thought it was insomnia.We never knew that word.

Before insomnia:

it was all nice. I think it was all nice.

because it no more seems like it.

it should have been nicer.

no?

after insomnia:

there’s no punctuation in between days and nights,

laziness and hard work, for everything is either dark and intense,

or/and hard and on the edge.

you’ve got no choices.

its like a rolling stone song.

And we don’t despise this condition.

because we know the truth:

the truth of insomnia, and

insomnia of truth.

We exist as dreams exist.

We speak from the darker world of unconscious.

We address every individual as we.

We are the sleep you slept.

We balance the world’s sleep.

We are insomniacs.

take the pen back

As i take back the pen again. i can probably type better. the conscioustyping. the consciousness of typing.

As the blood that spill out of my finger, I saw it. it closed, the skin. Everyone needs an inspiration to write, no? It wasnt the red that red blood of red. it was mixed with purple too may be. i need more of inspiration.

Diary

its roughly 12 am. not really 12am, i think its 3.45. 3.48, thats what the screen says. had to write down somewhere. So writing it here. been spending days in solitude, lately. Today, asusual, did nothing, but stared the screen for images, sounds movies and facebook. wasted money. literally.,. Hungry now. cant spend on like that, in addition to the debts around. its not abt the money though. its more abt accountability. did no politics last two days, since yesterday, since father left. Darkness, is what is surrounding rightnow, since few days. fewer days remaining. thats a good sign though. went on a trek like adventure like whatever it was, yesterday. may be its more abt the people i bumped into, than the adventure itself. body filled with thorns. my masochism wouldnt let me remove the thorns and stones. bought new shoes for myself today. brought tickets to watch a movie. and dint watch. its been madness, as usual. I need rest, i think. I think Im hungry, too. What shall i doo. may be sleep. may be eat. may be goon. may be. may be not.

dayree

its been a while a put em down words. sometimes all things lead to oneplace and all places to one thing, howmuch ever you walk talk or contradict. The D-word engulfs us all over all the times over and over. It needs to loose its validity. It shall. campaigned today. Sometimes works makes all things better. hardwork physical work. Cant go on this way every day anymore. all day all night should no longer hit. we shall sleep and all that. i shall no longer go thru this shit and work.

Google wave review

Google wave is “an online tool for real-time communication and collaboration.” Real-time is the catch word. That is, you see what i type, as i type, when i type, as you see, when you see. Well, its not that complicated. I mean, think about it. Or watch the Loooooong video ( http://tinyurl.com/l5c5tc ), that Google had put up for public. Its about how Google wave will “revolutionize” the way we think about communications. That is, how it will try to get back its monopoly over social-networking sites. Or to be more precise,  how it shall takeover facebook.

Google boasts quite a lot about Wave being open-sourced and extremely transparent. The public would get to see this  ”later this year”.  As of now, only developers and a very selected invitees get to see it. After waging a lost-battle against opensource, now Google trys a backdoor entry by incorporating of all those hackers and worshipers of Linux/opensource family into the big G.

Wave incorporates chat-technology (no, not the chat that you eat) with some weird “word streaming tools”, that plays sentences like videos. This is called real time, that is you have to see words, like you see videos on youtube.  Wavers instead of testing Google wave, recently started testing Google, itself.

Recently there were waves that wanted to test if google would detect the porn from the waves and moderate it.. the wave is still on(image: ). In the same blip(wavers cutely call their messages, blips)  another user Bad Bad Girl, writes “ It’s hard to put words together tonight ….XXXXX”. Google for sure, has revolutionized the think about google wave. And Google wave did the same to the circulation of pornographic materials.

One of the most popular wave

original image and better quality : http://accidentalmuse.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/por1.jpg

recollections/impressions

google wave for  sure, was a hyped up thing like google mail. I’m sure noone would really disagree that gmail changed the way we perceive the space in email, and that the hype was worth it. I remember, one of the coolest email providers before gmail, was hotmail that gave 2 mb space in my free account.  then yahoo gave 100mb or so. then you register yahoo account as a US resident, then you fuckin get 250 mb space for which, you should pay otherwise. and not many knew it n some even struggled with their 2mb mail accounts out of first love or something like that :p.  your email, your messenger, all were hundred different things. you might end up using each one of them with so much care and sophistication that you missed out on the existence of the other ones. I knew people who used yahoo mail and not messenger, and some who used only messenger. and using msn was almost unthinkable, in the place i lived.

For my picture to appear on the computer screen was such a big thing, while i was in ninth standard. even 10th or eleventh. There were several inhibitions in the ways we thought about the internet. Our concepts and ideas were fixed.  Our imaginations, fixed by the phones. or tvs or video games. The video conferences were always seen in these hi-fi sci-fi movies. But these inhibitions had their roots in what was perhaps real then: in the dial-ups, in the closet-emails, and in the way computers were things that a lay-person cant really handle. I remember, in my 4th standard in Anantapur, there was this computer exhibition. My father or someone took me there and i was thrilled by the idea of “suitcase computer”, which i later became used to, and it still excites me: laptop.

The awe and the idealization of the computers was mostly in the air, in the way we thought and in the way we acted. Now its on blogs, on Facebook communities and on tweets (we, as we know cant really blanket the majority Indians). The democratization of internet really starts(as far as i remember) probably when each of the early gmail accounts got some 50 invites. And Gmail invites were no more seen with that awe. After gmail gave its free 1gb space, then the other companies started to quickly move pawns, though we ve already lost interest in them. Who wouldn’t like originality? or innovation that pushes our time-lines forward?

Google took one more brilliant step (i don’t remember exactly when it did) by becoming more open-sourced(its now obvious from the chrome browser which is opensource and the google wave that is opened up to the developers across the borders).  The spirit of GPL and opensource drove several other projects that were innovative and passionate, and perhaps, were tactically incorporated to certain extent into google. The need for monopoly of a big company like google, was actualized through the opensource and its “genuine” opensource behavior for its own ends.Well, google’s wave to monopolize the web seems to be very obvious.

Google wave surprised me day before yesterday, in my mailbox with a google wave invite . And then I ve been trying  it since then. The one and half hour video of  google wave in the google I/O (thats the looong video on http://wave.google.com/help/wave/about.html), was very promising, at least conceptually. It almost said : ‘Email systems of the past were brilliant, but Google wave shall takeover, and we need some help.’

I will write more when moods come again when they come

what is it going to be then, eh

when i sit in the room twirching those strings of prose to pose into the blog, i think. therefore. eh thats a dated out expression, not jus in philosophi.

When we were born, i was not told that all cows moo or all historians bhoo.

images sometimes strike me. image of this little kid sitting and playing around. that kinda stuff. the new camera hopefully shall help me realize it into what i mean, when i see that i mean. these days readings have come down. or may be up. you can never tell what it is that happened. blogs are definitely restrictive. i would probably write many many other things that probably please me more than i write here, on a tissue paper probably, which i know would be burnt into pieces by the same source of indignation that maketh me write.

All the energy is being wasted right now i guess, in the unnecessary sleeps and beeps that i am into. but i like this : because i cud not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me, the carriage held but just ourselves and immortality. (ccp)

before the night immaterializes, i need to read again and fall back into that most unproductive biorhythm of mine, before it ditches me, into some worldly clock of cockiness. and whips my nerves apart into some burned up whacked out unimaginative pieces of gold or pirate’s hat bats.

read ra.

…

long enuff to post a post is not it. last time was almost from the bus.,wayving back from bangalore nias. always bangalore remains scale like thing to see aroun around. like the drop thats falling around n the rain, like the drop that rains outside, sometime back, from now. we see the world may be, the wild wild one. dot like, dot like, drop like. drop like. what we see or seem like a vision or dream or none, we seem to see, in the hours as these. i imitate the drops that gravity toward the grounds that are soaked in the wet weather weather ya care or not.or those familiar sounds of mosquitoes that zzz in the night in the ear with fear and oh. wtf can we or i talk of them like the zzz sounds that repel or masochistly attract or what? with us in heads on the beds after insomniac slips that await us in the days to come and set us right up, the way we ve been, caring not, for that or this and here or there. we ve got no fuckin choice at times, but to attend the Portuguese classes that flashes or flashed that, obscure memories of us. ca va? vo Ce..! but then, we know, as i know, the nights are of light if there’s some light, otherwise not. otherwise, we be-long to books or the wild screams of screens or the jazzy sounds that sleep us, atleast till whenever we get off the bed, next.we need to spend energy. sleepyly or sleeplessly or between both balancing thee consciences and limits of tmespavebodies we are condemned to live with. do we have a choice? nor did the undergrounds men. darkness sleep and nothingness. i wish its never dark, never night and never to slip on to the pains and grains of sleep. do we have a choice, attimes? no we dont. when those dangerous alarms around scream that’s when you know. thats when ya fuckin know  that night’s gone. another night. another alarm. you know it all, if ya ever heard it before, like all nights that ya dun slip into sleep. but yet. but yet, there’s absolute liberation, like there’s always one. you know things. you’d get to know things. by habit, practice, imagination. whatever you know it from, you know it: u dun sleep for a day somethin happens. there’s sleep all aroun. you dun sleep nex afternoon: you jus cant find sleep in the night. and after that you neva know, when it comes, in the middle of tutorials posters and that screamy slogans or quickgunmurugus. you jus know it: that y’re f**d up real bad.then you cant fuckin remember or forget. remember the past or forget it. you’re jus doomed. n like a cherry on the top, we know one fucking more thing. that, that there’s work to be done. fight to be fought and a slight flight from all that. so what we do is. is nothing much. get bitten by mosquitoes on toes or armpits or die into deep sleep till the realization comes:  its too late to attend a class. So we shall assign guilt to ourselves, may be. or better sleep the guilt. or even better, not know it, like a goody goody boys that neva know shit. i like raina beeti jaye when sung by a.

and btw,

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten

the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
 
goobye

ni as s

Another life to go to sit in a bus starring at the shaking key board enlightened by the screen scream of creamy light.and listening the kannada radio that fades through and through as the bus moves and moos. So the three weeks that faded in a split of a spit second while i stay here recovering trying think what all happened in that split. Philosophy is not always about the abstracted substracted philosophy that we tend to think of at times. Its more about more than all that jazz. Its about strategically skipping classes at times to meet them all the memories of my head, while the new ones being added up, while wondering what it really means to think and to destroy the presuppositions little systematically and little chaoticly while adding up new memories logics and e-motions.
And how sureal last few days had been? From the germanic tribes through the einstiens and darwins till the devd derridass in nias. Nias actually at times sounds like some nasa or nee ass sometimes. What all nights of sleeplessness in the outside of rooms while talking talking and talking or watching them all talk or being watched while talked or talked about. While making the plans and implementing them in the mg roads and koramangalas and sudamshus to meet the older memories of the christ of depression and plessure and the christ of memory and imagination : christ, the idea messed up and blissed out through sgpalaya beef fry and the pork of nias afternoons all leading eventually towards this bus that is below me now. While the recollection of partitions riots and postmodernisms while infitinyly skipping the reading looking for creative modes of reading them or catching up with them, while producing monologues and essays while playing the newly installed dirt bike games on the dream-cum-true-ubuntu on this very cemputer, while thanking martin and hahahaving times to be recollected and ritualised. While the images of jnu slightly fades with the rush of the new experiences through these days pumped into thee heads and nerves.how to capture the experience into words is a funny thing like that of a frog pissing in the tank of zigbos.

streamy

streamy are the thoughts i think while i think while i want to write while listening to some crazyly fucked up songs i first heard in tenth standard and crazy fucked up ideas of brainless days of yesterday and today, thinking of tomorrows promises coming in a row, flashing like a million promises that were flashed upon the face on the face like it was on the face when i saw the lights of red and white and black flashed on the face and eyes and hot on heart and heat in chest and all that crazy experience, however it is, associated with all this shit i write, after reading some real old recollective melodies, tragic mellowdies of the pastness and partness and all that that can spring out of 2 secs of thought 2 mins of talk and 2hrs of imagined memories and grammar of memories and images and images of thoughts thinking heads in the heads of the dying fools and fooling deaths we wanted and were haunted by. “u change things.. there is no going back” (joker to batman). but you know there is going back. you can go back in a more fucked up way. but yes, hail joker!there’s no fucking going back. lets, as we ought, lets walk towards the unfuckingknown images of the future.. or lemme walk and wake towards the unfuckingknown images of futuristic visions like pondy pondy group and like lemme see it to hear it to think it to get off it from ma head. to the bliss. to the peace. to the worelds. to the self,into it. to rain. into the unfucking realisticts surreality we are part of and fucking synthesise it for me to eat it off better than i did befoer. there ‘s no going back. events. viva la muertee.!