IN LIMBO
Being stuck here in camp, undergoing training & having to grapple with the nuances of the "expected decorum of an officer" so to speak, accentuated by the stack of notes ranging from Thermal Physics to Field Intelligence (for nine months at that), I had to find a way to calm my frayed nerves after a hectic day of training, and yes, writing shitloads of crap on my notebook has become my chosen euphoria. So when I decided to sit on my crisp and drum-tight bed (compulsory standards for bunk inspection, though the perennial action of being forced to do hundred or more push-ups has evolved to a norm), nothing, nothing,nothing.. came into my mind. zilch. For seconds. Then minutes.
I became desperate, and finally decided to rouse my half-asleep neurons with the usual effective mantra, something I do, almost religiously, before I sleep every night..
"A IS FOR AIRBORNE.. I IS FOR IN THE SKY.. R IS FOR RUFF AND TUFF....B IS FOR BORN TO FLY.."
"LEFT- TWO, RIGHT- TWO, KEEP UP THE TEM-PO! LEFT- TWO, RIGHT- TWO, WHEY-O WHEY-O AH..
HERE WE GO AGAIN..SAME OLD SHIT AGAIN.. UP AND DOWN THIS AVENUE." et cetera.
You get the gist. Moments after, tears of joy welled up in my soulful eyes, for I finally realised the true meaning of being a MAN..a real MAN ..a hunky MAN.. of life and its pleasures, and that my mind never really went kaput in the first place, it was just hibernating ,despite all those months away from the freedom of brain activity. I also realised that apart from my mantras, there was also another part of my life with me:
Ripping off music stores with my own CD compilation (a la "BLING BLING", VINTAGE ROCK 1 & 2, NOW 2956 etc.) which I dearly wanted to emulate, for they impressed me to no end with how thorough, intense, and rational the selection process by such record companies was, for ONLY the elite songs were allowed to be chosen to fit into a certain compilation.. For instance, "The Reason" by multi-platinum stars Hoobastank is a spot on deserving choice for the recent "Rockstar" compilation album, claming to compile the best rock and indie songs on the planet. Right on, motherfuckers.
And so, I decided to name mine :
"Top 15 Love Songs To Fit Into An Album And Impress A Girl As An Innocent Gift But To Inherently Harbour Secret Fantasies Of Wanting To Get Laid By Her Cause Shes So F*cking Hot But She Listens To ruffedge, machi, 5566 & gerimis mengundang, etc."
Or you could just call it as having the function of being background music to horny bastards making out. Euphemisms are beautiful, aren't they?
(To Be Continued Whenever I'm Not Fucking Occupied)
check out our band's Purevolume site alright. The band's called Quasimodo.
http:www.purevolume.com/quasimodo
Rant 5:04 AM of Azmie
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