Today is my anniversary, my WordPress anniversary, and I am indebted to WordPress for this beautiful journey in writing. I don’t know how many years has it been, but it surely was enough to put all the alphabets on my keyboard to use. It used to be just w,a,s,d, ctrl and space. I have now begun a new adventure on a new platform called Swell. It ain’t going swell, but it’s doing something. Check it out!
Papa made it to the editor’s pick a few days ago. So that shows how low the company is willing to stoop.
I only use my comedic powers for good. So today, when a mean little looser tried to shame me on Reddit, I practiced restraint. I prayed to God, to give me the power to forgive. I meditated, and then I came up with a great comeback that attacked his upbringing. In the words of the great Colossus, “Four or five moments, that’s all it takes. To be a hero. Everyone thinks it’s a full-time job. Wake up a hero. Brush your teeth a hero. Go to work a hero. Not true. Over a lifetime, there are only 4 or 5 moments that really matter. Moments when you’re offered a choice. To make a sacrifice, conquer a flaw, save a friend… spare an enemy. In these moments, everything else falls away.” So I closed the window, and instead chose to share it with my six hundred loyal spam bots. A small step for me, one giant leap for my ego. Randomthoughtbeam out.
The ability to leap out of a pit full of depression takes courage and hard work. No one likes uncertainty in life. Stability is a dream, high up in the mountains. I am more scared that I do not care about the uncertainty in my life. The thoughts that envelop my mind are short sighted.
Here’s a dumb thought: Maybe the introduction of a companion will help bring purpose in life.
Here’s a better one: A companion can may be a good influence.
This is the story of king Nopar and his quest for truth. King Nopar was a sad man. People couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. They tried everything from juices to perfumes to lavish vacations, but King Nopar kept his head down in public. He spent hours in his chambers by himself, thinking, contemplating, looking for advice, seeking spiritual guidance. He had no family. He had no tears.
The people refused to give up on their king. They chanted songs and threw parades in his name. They shouted his name in glee, wrote it on walls and gates.
The king was however, oblivious to all this. He kept a box of heirlooms hidden away beneath the castle. Once a week he would go visit them, to recount his happy days with his long lost cousin, Jason. Then one day an enemy arrived at the gate. This enemy was one thousand strong, fearless and frightening. King Nopar appeared at the castle entrance to make his statement. “Torch these pussy ass clowns”, said he, and he spat covid on their faces. One could hear the stretching of bows as the archers nocked their arrows into place. In response, the king twirled his cape and threw his underwear into the air. The head priest began chanting silently, the hymn of Darkness, his lips trembling with fear, as he erased his browsing history. To be continued…
Maybe it’s just me, but these words “sound” quite different from their actual meaning.
“Languish” in prison: Doesn’t this word make it sound as if the person is thriving in prison? How’s Mary? Oh! She’s languishing in the pool.
The girl had “eloped” with the man: This straight up sounds like she gave him a blow job.
“altruism”: sounds like either a brain disease or some kind of illegal brewing. What happened to Chuck? Oh, Chuck got caught in that “altruism” scandal.
Bohemian, which is basically a polite word for hippie, made it’s way into my brain today. How I came across this word is quite interesting. As you might know, I no read nothing. There is no way I am coming across fancy words from books. So I get excited when I see these words in places where you would least expect to find them. So when I read ‘Bohemian’ on someone’s Tinder profile, I got intrigued. Bohemian, like Bohemian Rhapsody? Freddy, you did it again. By the way, what a killer name, Farrokh Bulsara. Now, imagine a Terminator robot named Farrokh Bulsara.
Album:A Night at the Opera
Song: Bohemian Rhapsody
Writer: Freddy Mercury (born Farrokh Bulsara)
But don’t worry if you haven’t listened to this song. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. It’s a hippie anthem, and very aptly named, now that I know what it means. The lovey folks on Tinder tend to use this word quite extensively. The reason? Expression.
Definition: Bohemianism is the practice of an unconventional lifestyle, often in the company of like-minded people and with few permanent ties. It involves musical, artistic, literary, or spiritual pursuits. In this context, bohemians may or may not be wanderers, adventurers, or vagabonds. (Wikipedia)
Noticed the letters in bold? I imagine this is key for our friends on Tinder.
The IELTS test. What is it? What went wrong? Why?
I’d like to begin this segment by just saying FUCK. FUCK FUCKITTY FUCK FUCK.
Ahem…now that that’s out of they way, lets get to the details. The IELTS is a standardized test for…oh who gives a shit? Just google it. I can’t believe I’ve been writing this shitty blog for five fucking years, and I still can’t write a letter to a friend inviting him for my damn birthday party. Unbelievable. The air conditioning in the exam hall was kept so low, my fingers wouldn’t move. It was so cold, if I peed, little yellow ice sickles would pop out.
I just went through some of my old posts and realized how profound and meaningful some of it was, compared to the dick-jokes I do now. Well, that’s because I was happier then. I was a curious young boy. The only responsibility I had was to keep a job. I also feel like the language is limiting me. There are Shakespearean thoughts, but it comes out as early-man sign language. I have a 3 month membership to Audible, and I am going to master the fuck out of this language, starting with The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. The voice of Jeremy Irons (narrator) will tingle my senses, and awaken a beast who once terrified illiterates with complex sounding words.