Incurable

He was bored to the bone

Never picked up his phone

Said he would talk to nobody

Plug out the speakers of your party

He was bored to the bone

Lazy hours went by too soon

Got up and on a long holiday

Big Daddy’s credit card could pay

There was silence in the crowds

His ears bursting inside out

New language hit the town

The world got upside down

He’s a wasted, lazy log

He ain’t got no paying job

Mama’s searching a rich doll

Happy to marry her slob

He was bored to the bone

Did nothing but whine and groan

Youth is wasted on the young

A case of philosophers’ syndrome

21

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honestly speaking…

To tell the truth truthfully and not just say something and then pretend its the truth, so much that I eventually may start deceiving myself  to believe that it is but truth, is a difficult thing to do. But, honestly speaking; I would not as much as lift a finger if I were to do anything solely for myself. Its not because I can’t; even though laziness happens to be my favorite to exercise as well as most despised sport, it can always be overcome with a little will power and reasoning with myself. What actually yields this miserably hopeless state is the fact that I am naturally content with nothing-ness.

This probably means nothing but I am content with not giving this excuse any more weight than what it already carries…and that too is nothing.

lazy

Some Words

“Once there was; once there wasn’t.

    A long time ago, in a land not far away, when the sieve was inside the straw, the donkey was the town crier, and the camel was the barber……when I was older than my father so that I rocked his cradle on hearing his cry…..when the world was upside down and time was a cycle that turned around and around so that the future was older than the past and the past was as pristine as newly sowed fields…..

    Once there was; once there wasn’t. God’s creatures were as plentiful as grains and talking too much was a sin, for you could tell what you shouldn’t remember and you could remember what you shouldn’t tell”.

-An excerpt from ‘The Bastard of Istanbul’.

1890-Constantinople-Scutari1

the opportunist

  I have observed this quite often that the principally ‘right’ actions done under unfavourable circumstances become ‘wrong’, where as the ‘wrong’ things done under favourable circumstances become perfectly ‘right’.

   An idealist will argue that it is the power of the convictions of actions that make the circumstances favourable or unfavourable, where as a realist may at times give in to the hands of circumstances to bless the actions the character of being right or wrong.

   Luckily, I have lately become an opportunist.

OptimistPessimistOpportunist