Let Me Entertain You...

I’ll be honest.
Being an above average, so called ‘awesome’ singer surely gives me a head start on various things. Whether it involves scoring brownie points with people, making friends, or belonging to one of the ‘high on pedestal’ deliberately modest celebrity stature, it surely gives me an edge.
People know you, they remember you even after you’re long gone. Perhaps your face will be a blur, but the voice strikes the rest of the blurred faces like a samurai sword.
Music is one of my passions, my escape. But this weapon is certainly not a weapon of choice for me. It’s a double edged weapon, which will blow up in your face and flash to your kindred soul, the harsh reality of the flipside of standing out in the artistic or cultural arena.
To elucidate the frustrated babble, let me give you a few examples, of the nerve they possess, to shoot me in the arm, knowingly or otherwise:

“Hey you sing so well, I’m sure you sang you’re way through the FMS interview didn’t you?”

“Hey, sing something man, I’m getting bored”

“Wow, you sing really well, now we have someone to entertain us at all times!”

“Oh yeah… that girl? She sings really well… (never mind the quality of work she can do)

And the list goes on…

To those who think I’m blowing my own trumpet, may please stop reading this, as it may seem bullshit to you, and I would not want you to be a reader here.
The truth is, I don’t need to do it.
But, the pain point is, that my image is that of a Singer. An all time available entertainer, who will sing for you, anytime you want.
I share this feeling with another friend of mine, who btw is an ace guitar player. I empathize with him when both of us, invite company for that short period of time when we’re being ‘in your face’ artists.
How about a little respect for our other talents?
Perhaps, the artists have to awaken the rebel inside them, to sometimes prove a point in a different field altogether.
Imagine this. If you were a talented writer, or a dancer, or a successful coder, would you appreciate a request (that seems more like a demand) of an instantaneous display of your domain? No.
So I’ll be honest.
Open up your mind, and ears for that matter, coz I’ve got a voice to kill for, but I also know how to use it right. Does it sound like music to you ears? Look beyond it. You might find something else worth appreciating too.

Lovely Nonsense

I need love, not some sentimental prison,
I need god, not a political church.
I need love…

Love – the overwhelming, over the top, overcoming phenomenon; that happens to be a part of everyone. And I mean everyone, from the terrorist to the schizophrenic to the neurotic, psychotic serial killer. Wonder why almost all of the songs we hear, are about love, the loss of love, new found love, juvenile, crazy, obsessive, heartbreaking love.
I used to think it’s a highly overrated concept. I still do sometimes. Who defines love and the protocol involved? What are the repercussions of being in love? What kind of personality type are you and the one you’re in love with? Does all of this matter? Or, can you take the liberty to fall for anything/anyone, at your own sweet risk. Or can you even take this decision? Love happens for some, sometimes late for the others and over and over for some few – that according to me doesn’t qualify as love. I’m not saying you love only once, but I’ll say it’s like a pair of diamond earrings. You can lose it once, and even think about buying new ones, but you can’t do it so often if they’re real blings.
The question is how do you know it’s the real bling? The answer is, you won’t. You won’t know unless you’re in it, which is a fairly risky thing to do. Worth a shot?? Hmmm maybe not. Maybe I’m not the right person to write this. Maybe you can chose to ignore my views, but I’ll tell you this much

Love is perceivably vast,
With a blind eye to race, creed, sex and cast,
The book says it ought to be free,
From it, escapists like to spree,
Perhaps starts and ends fast,
But it feels fucking good while it lasts.

Try it, and if it fails, brother,
Don’t expect me to cry, for thee…

Frustrated.

The week flies by, yet again. Like a trailblaze, it shoots and leaves behind nothing but a smokey line... as blurred as the cognitive strategy of george bush. Startled as i am, able to catch nothin but a whiff off the smoke, it hits me that i'vge managed to miss it again. I have realized again, that i have very conviniently let go of the madness arising out of chasing time. Or shall i question myself once more abotu my priotities? As i sit here, hanging my head in shame and disgust, reminiscing what i have lost for the prioroties. Imagine being reprimanded for having a priority, leaves me with a cynical expectation of what this day has for me in its little blue purse. Perhaps a fair judgement, perhaps a pity call. Perhaps im giving up...capitulating to my fears. Perhaps I want to be a rebel, and fight it out. But the question is, how do i do that? HOw do i manage to catch a wink at this point, forget forty. How do i get out of this disillusioned state, that i find myself to be stuck in? If i could just close my eyes without having to fear anythign or anybody. 'May i' or 'Can i' - thats the difference. Why mess with the lord of sleep - Hypnos? For You??!! TO do you work, and to satisfy to your ego. As i sit here coping with the Blaze of Disgust, I watch her sleeping through this class. She dozes.. she has, and she always will..