Saturday, September 12, 2009

What do you do when you know you're good? I mean, really really good at what you do. Do you attempt to hide it in the shadows of other's foolishness or flaunt it full view of everyone ?

And why is it that when one attempts to flaunt their individuality, their intellect and their supreme ability to accomplish every task that comes their way- such people are labelled arrogant and aggresive?

Why can't we stand some one else's courage to stand out in the crowd and rebel? Why are we so caught up in doing things "the right way"?

And those who can't flaunt it, successfully fake it!

Tolerating someone else's success has always been a problem with us humans and will probably always be.

Just live and let live. Seriously!!

Saturday, September 5, 2009


I wrote this while watching Interview With The Vampire. This short poem, (or whatever you may wish to call it) is dedicated to Lestat..who never found love.


Disappointed, the old vampire receded into the dark
Determined to come back to life
Or to surviving that he knew was not hard

He kept himself awake with the blood of the sweet maid
Who knew her master was ill and that her fate was made
She gave up all she had for him
Only to be turned into what others would call a sin

She loved him and so did he
Together, they set about
With dreams of conquering the world

Until one fateful day HE decided to return
Detached, cold, restless and undone
He was beautiful and clean
Like the devil, HE walked in unseen

HE was mortal and not dead
For 200years, it never seemed to end
Now HE knew he’d found his nemesis
Who lay unaware in the arms of his mistress

They dueled all night and then in the dark
She watched them with an impassive heart
It must all stop, she told herself
I must bring a closure, it must all end

And so she burned their castle down
Fell in his arms and cried out aloud
“atlast we pay for all our sins,
Let us leave as our hearts bleed”

HE watched them turn to ash and dust
As He made his way back to the world
That gave HIM no life or even death
But only the loss of a friend
HE no longer regrets