being poor, I have only my dreams
8 Feb
1. This series is for the four readers of my blog. You keep me going, yearning, and growing despite my inconsistencies.
2. This series is fiction. Get over it.
Saturday, 6th December, 11:37 AM
The fog slowly clears from the misty plains of a thousand dreamless sleeps. I have enjoyed my stay there, through the long peaceful hours. Being, and… not quiet being. The bright sun streams through the trees, sparkling brightly in the morning streams of consciousness.
My eyes open, and there’s a smile on my face.
It has been ages since I’ve had a good night’s sleep. The insomniac and the workaholic in me are constantly fighting for bragging rights to body, mind and soul. The battle is epic, the fields bloody with carnage, but what they think they fight for, I do not know, for how can nothing be a prize?
I get up from my room and walk straight to the bathroom. Stark naked.
One of the main reasons I like staying alone.
The other reason? The silence. The beautiful, still silence, when you can hear the cockroaches peacefully sleeping next to you. Until, of course…
12:18 PM
I’m seating in my “movie room”, which for all intents and purposes is just an extra bedroom that has an old and tired computer slaving mercilessly in the corner, failing, time and time again at solving the useless quests both it, and I find ourselves on. I have given up all hope for a regular TV; I don’t keep regular hours and my passion for regular Ugandan TV programming is non-existent.
Heroes. Season 3.
In my years of watching… no, studying, series and movies, there is no voice I have found as captivating as Mohinder Suresh’s Heroes monologues. In the same breath, it speaks of hope and of despair, of life and of death. And it sets a tone for one of the deepest explorations of humanity since the invention of the cathode ray tube, of course, with all the failings of pop-culture, but deep, nonetheless. I agree, the writing is brilliant, but the voice… the intonation… it liberates the ink from the paper and sets the words free, riding high on the wings of purpose and meaning.
Consider this:
“Where does it come from? This quest, this need to solve life’s mysteries, when the simplest of questions can never be answered. Why are we here? What is the soul? Why do we dream? Perhaps we’d be better off not looking at all… not delving, not yearning. But that’s not human nature. Not the human heart. That is not why we are here.” – Mohinder Suresh
or this:
“You can run far, you can take your small precautions. But have you really gotten away? Can you ever escape? Or is it the truth that you did not have the strength or cunning to hide from destiny? That the world is not small. You are. And, fate can find you anywhere.” – Mohinder Suresh
Wait, where was I…?
Ah yes, resplendent in my movie chair; the hours passing idly by while my mind tries hard to fathom the depths of Hollywood TV. It reminds me of this one time we got into an argument about the thinly-veiled religious undertones in The Matrix, and the subculture implications of Neo’s awakening. Funny how the mind will always see illusions of enlightenment in a script hurriedly typed by a drunken script writer who was minutes away from a deadline and spat out some incoherent spiel that is now revered by adherents.
Nirvana, with popcorn and 3-D glasses.
15:08 PM
Shit. I am late!
16:48 PM
Shit. I am early!
Oh well. Time for a slow stroll.
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There is a word for naked people in fiction. Though I didn’t want to comment first because I don’t want to set the wrong tone.
Oh come on! Wait. Google. Darnit. Nothing.
Re: Mohinder, frankly, I just watch him coz he’s hot *grin*
And beyond the handy references to red pills, blue pills and the absence of spoons [... they can make you sound really smart if you use them in the right context] … apart from that, I didn’t really get the Matrix :-/
It’s kind of hard to use it in the right context if you’re not smart in the first place.
You are so right about Mohinder.
no! dont crush my dreams! i saw so much meaning in the narrator’s monologues in Fight Club, and someone said to me that i think too deeply about things :-/ drunkenly-written or not, words have meaning!
speaking of, you write beautifully
Hello you. I agree, words have meaning. But the meaning is carried most (and distorted even more) in the mind of the reader. All we see is subjective, open to our own unique interpretations.
I digress.
Welcom, Char.
Kyokka Baz! You succeeded without saying anything.
RK: I hate the sound of roaches in the night. It is like a big bad monster coming to kill you then you find a ka stupid roach rustling around in a kaveera…
Wamma Mama Pete tell us the word.
And I’m not fond of them critters either, but hearing them rustling is a sign of super quiet-ness-ness.
Before I head off into the internet jungle to loook for other Mohiner monologues( becuase i never paid attention before) i’ve gotta say… cockroaches really? that tickles your fancy? i’m with petesmama here
Nope, it doesn’t tickle my fancy, YZ. LOL. See my answer to Mama Pete.
Fiction?!! [Gets up. Bangs the door behind him and leaves.]
LOL.
…[sneaks back in]..dude, this is great stuff. Heroes has one of the most quickly changing plots ever.
Ha. I knew you’d be back. And thank you.
1. i think those are more than four readers…
2. u walk around your place naked…?
3. Remind me to never drop in unannounced.
4. if the wachowski bros wrote the matrix while drunk, maybe I should start drinkin while in front of the computer…
Fiction, dude. Fiction. And about that drinking thing…
This one’s for Emi.
You were “seating,” you said?
Oh and earth to King! You have carried on this whimsical (although heavenly) writing long enough. Returneth! Speak Ugandan!
And you like so totally owe me a story.
LOL. It was intentional. I forgot to put quotes. If you saw the thing I “seat” on, you’d understand.
And I like whimsicalnessality.
That story is… yeah.
Did you even count me among the four?
LOL. There are four of you. Go figure.