The Sanctum

Welcome, traveller. This be the realm of Jay Niner, where everything be possible, and nothing ever happens. If, perchance, thou wisheth to tarry, then find thou a page from the Grimoire and read. For we are here in eternity, and we are in medias res.


I believe I can fly....

I believe I can fly... I believe I can lie... with my brains splattered on the road.
I don't know why, but since i was 5, i've been told that suicide is an offense.
Why on earth do humans, of all the animals on earth, take this road when everything else fails? The final step on the road to perdition. An attractive proposition to the most twisted of minds, and to the sanest alive.
I'm sorry, perhaps that didn't make any sense. In this world, people have simply stopped caring. I know I have. Things happen, and more importantly, shit happens. And when the shit hits the fan, somebody's got to clean it. And the only time I'll be cleaning is when it hits my fan.
And following that, the rest of the world doesn't exist on my plane. People die, people live, the moon explodes, apocalypse is now.
It doesn't matter one bit;
I'll not move from where I sit.
The world is one goddam mess,
A shit-hole, a pool of cess.
In that world we eke out a life
A world of constant violence & strife.
For all those dreamers out there, don't wake up. You'll like this world better than your dream when it comes true. For humans cannot live without suffering, they cannot endure without complaining. It's a world of endless night.
But hey, this is just my perception. Y'all out there are free to think differently. This world does allow us the freedom of speech, don't it?


Time and again...

The year: 2009. Is is a new year? Check. Is it any different from the last year? Too early to tell.
Maybe I should try to write something that resembles a blog instead of my usual poem. What the hell, though, let's give it a shot.
The days are long in more ways than one; I have more work to do. Something I didn't even think was possible right now, not on top of my already loaded schedule.
Time is an interesting thing. It's said to be like a river; you can never put your hand in the same water twice. Once it's gone, it's gone. Or maybe Time is not the river, we are. We're moving and time is standing still. And because we're moving, we can't catch the same time twice. All of us look back and think; hell, instead of doing that, I could have done this, and saved myself some time here. Of course, the problem with Carpe Diem, "sieze the day", is that although everyone wants to live in the present, nobody can.
We're slaves to our own system; a system which forces us to go out of nature's natural instincts and do things other than what nature made us to do; we work. Not just for roti, kapda and makaan, but for a good education. For a good car (i.e. a murcielago or so), a good house (the buckingham palace would do), a good time (nightclubs, cocaine, director's special) and so on. The fact that they impinge on the natural system of our bodies and minds means nothing to us; it only justifies the truth of "carpe diem". I look back and think; why on earth did we evolve? If we humans had stayed apes then none of this would have happened. And another question:
what prompted this evolution? What was it that nature did to differentiate us from the monkeys that are our cousins? And why monkeys? It could have been dogs, cats, fishes, or insects. Perhaps there was something in the species itself that prompted evolution. A chilling thought comes to my mind. It's said that nature abhores a vaccuum. It's also seen that when one species vanishes from a habitat, another is evolved to take its place and right the balance. Could it be that before humans evolved from monkeys, there was another race that walked the earth?
Interesting, but chilling. Now I know what comes of reading too many fantasy novels.
"The Call of Cthulhu" is a fantasy novel by the famous H.P. Lovecraft, who prompted the arrival of a series of "Lovecraftian" novels, most of which are centered around the antagonist of the above mentioned novel, Cthulhu, the high priest of the Great Old Ones. Although barely 16 pages in size (or maybe my ebook is abridged) it gives a vivid idea of something that could have happened before our time, before humans existed. Again, this comes of reading too much fantasy. The story, which starts from "The horror in clay" and ends in "the madness at sea" where Cthulhu actually rises from the water from his mystical R'lyeh, is incredibly gripping, and perhaps, in my opinion, one of the most brilliant novels written. There is much of it that goes unanswered, and what with Lovecraft's style of writing, it simply conveys the idea: 'you tell me what could have happened', in response to every question I can think of.
This blog keeps swerving from one topic to another. Typical, I guess. If you don't know where you want to go when you start, you get to some place completely different. There will be a continuation to this blog, but this tomfoolery will have to end right here.