most emo blog ever.
Sometimes I wish that there's a reset button at the corner of my life that I can just press and events will restore itself to where I want it to be. Mistakes will never be made and happy memories will repeat itself. Won't that be a life worth living?

Unfortunately for me, the happy memories jolt by too fast and the repercussions of my mistakes linger too long. Am I in depression? Certainly not. Because as I said to charlene, aka winter vomitus woman, men who are not in control of their emotions are not capable of great things. For if we cannot have mind over matter as banal as emotion, we cannot have mind over whatsoever.

Asinine is the word I want to use to describe myself. Because I am a man whose motivation has been tried and found wanting. And again I yearn for the pressing of the button that will reset things as my heart will want.

I miss IMU.


It's amazing how indifferent I was to the transition period between the teen years and adulthood. I ignored its effects as it ignored my whims. A brillant symbiosis which resulted in me suddenly finding myself in a position of commitments and responsibilities far akin to the old position of luxuries and comfort. It most certainly is interesting, ladies and gentlemen, that I cannot deny.

I miss my old friends. When doth time changeth its course, it's when I do meet thee.



It's when I fly away further from my homeland that I realise what makes the universal clock that hangs on the walls of our lives tick. I've had a million chances all of which I squandered and none seized. Of course, one might argue that it's better late than never but I beg to differ because I know all about tardiness and it's slow-acting effects on the health of relationships. But I certainly do, now more than ever, miss my family.



Cryptic blogs irritate me because they go nowhere and end up without meaning nor significance. So here are some happy pictures dictating my happy life.



Watch out for that brick cubicle the next time you watch an England match in old trafford.

ANd can you believe it, I'm sitting in the corner where David Beckham used to sit and will occupy if there's an England game. I can smell his sweat. A floating fragrance of raspberry with a slight tinge of wintermelon. DOn't ask me why his sweat smells like that. It just does. Amazing isn't it, that when you're a celebrity even your metabolism changes.







ANd here is a video of us running onto the pitch of old trafford. Life has to be humourous because laughter is a parameter of joy, and joy is the next best thing to happiness.