Ramblings of a delusional dumbass

11 October 2016 Went to bed at 11pm last night, woke up at 4-ish. But didn't get to work until the first quarter of 5am. My mind was still sleepy and struggling to make any semblance of my altered wake up time. The bright LED in the bathroom helped a lot. Wish I had washed my face as well, then I wouldn't have been so restless. This is common. I should know, I've done this before. It should take a few days to get used to and then I'll be on track, until I crash and burn. Then it's back to sleeping like a regular human being. I should probably take up some kind of exercise. Just the basic stuff, push ups, squats, planking etc. I can plank for  60 seconds, no problem. The burn begins at 40-isdh seconds, but done'st get really bad until the one minute mark. Like Casey Neistat says, it is possible to substitute a small amount of sleep with exercise and still be able to function at optimal levels. Or maybe it's the initial adrenalin rush, akin to a sugar

27 September Especially when working, listening to the same song over and over again gets me in "the zone". I accidentally discovered this some time back, and I am not the only one to come to this realisation. There have been a few studies on why this happens. Turns out, it is because with repetition, our mind is accustomed to anticipating what comes next, and tunes itself into it, cutting away out mental distractions we may have. I have a two part theory on why this works for me- 1. It acts as a filter for external distractions. I always wear headphones when I'm working, and turn the volume up just enough that the song I'm playing shadows the other sounds. This is well withing permissible limits. As long as there isn't a heavy duty construction going on outside the window, this blocks out minor sounds, giving me a sense of being within my own sanctuary. 2. It sets up a working rhythm. I have experimented with different genres of music and I have found

26 September 2016 I like to wallow in it like pig in filth. I have a broad overview of what constitutes success, and hitting any of those milestones is enough for me to get a massive ego boost that takes its own sweet time to deflate. I love to bring up old achievements, however small they may be- in order to feel good about myself. Mental masturbation never was better. This gives me a I-am-better-than-you syndrome, for longer than what is necessary. This also inhibits my growth and lowers/ alters my growth trajectory considerably. By the time I realize what's happening, I'm already crashing, swimming in a deep pit of anxiety and self loathing. Back to square negative one. At this point, not only should I concentrate on working my way up, but I should also spend time and efforts into cajoling myself to not feel so bad about others being better than me. I sound like a narcissist, but that's only because I am. Sort of. Waste of time. I think this is why Stoicism at

26 September 2016 It is no longer fun to go on facebook anymore. There's too much drama and butt kissing on there, and there are also people who are way more talented than I am, which makes me depressed. But I still go on online all the time. I'm like a heroin addict who keeps shooting up more and more even though he knows it's fucking killing him. For the first time, I have begun logging out of facebook on my main computers and my phone. But it hasn't helped. In fact it has only made it worse. I log out and then I'm back online in a few minutes, and I waste the entire day refreshing facebook. It doesn't help that my job requires me to go on facebook to get work done. So, every time I start working on facebook posts for clients, I go down the rabbit hole and before I know it, I'm dicking around without a purpose for hours on end. It feels exactly like an addiction. I know that going on facebook is counter productive. I know that most of the posts I se

24 September 2016 The last time I had done this was way back when I was freelancing- two years ago. Surprisingly, I am most active with six hour sleep cycles. I am more alert throughout the day and I'll have less distractions. But the only downside is that I crash hard at bed time. I don't mid this much, because I'll have to strictly structure my day within the eighteen hour block I get. This gives me a better control over what i do with my waking hours, so less wasting time and more productivity. Back then however, I used to put the extra two hours of wakefulness to use by exercising and reading. Something that I strictly believe helped me immensely with productivity, concentration et al. I'm doing neither of those now. It's been only a couple of weeks since I've reduced my sleep hours, and I'm slowly slipping into a lethargic, zombie like state. My body's adjusted itself to the new sleep timings. My mind however, is still catching up, rather er

"I promise I won't try to stab you again" Well, that's reassuring. Bitch. She tried reaching her hand out to feel my abdomen where she had plunged a good part of the six inch kitchen knife just weeks ago. I instinctively slapped her hand away. "Hey!" She looked hurt. She wasn't, although I hoped she was. "Look, just get away from me. I want nothing to do with you" "But I do" She inched closer. Damn her pretty blue eyes. They were actually a dark shade of brown, but she always made me call them blue. "Look, if this is about the cheating, I just want you to know that you are better in bed and I was thinking of you the whole time" "What the fuck does that even mean?" "He was so small, I could hardly feel him inside me" "Great" There was no point talking to her. I was trying to be the bigger guy and let this die out on its own. Silence. And I knew that the shit show would begin

Shall I compare thee to complex and/ or contradictory ideas? Let me put them in semi-complete sentences with abrupt line breaks and call it a poem no rythm no rhyme chopping 'em up like a blind butcher in rage fuck punctuation too just fuck it and everything is in small caps such deep much romantic if only i had a typewriter to type this out on old paper then it would have been doper Example: you are the best but you have your flaws you are like toothpase and you are also like orange juice you are like expensive scotch and also like 555 beedi you are like Mia Khalifa and also like not Mia Khalifa and that is what makes you special worthy enough of a generic love song this generic love song

I woke up at five. Made breakfast for the family. Had breakfast. Sent my mom off to work and went to bed with Iron Maiden singing me a lullaby. Two minutes to midnight. Great song. I wouldn't call it sleep, per se. You know that tired feeling you get when you jerk off in the middle of the day, not because you are horny but because you are bored, and all you want to do is take a nap right after, but you can't, so you stumble around in a state of constant stupor for anywhere between ten minutes and two hours? That is what I felt like when I went to bed at 08:30 in the AM today. I don't even remember going to sleep. All I remember is sitting cross legged in my office bathroom, washing my feet. Dirty brown water flowed freely from under my feet. And then I started lucid dreaming. The realization lasted for only a few moments, but I was sure as hell that I was definitely dreaming. What tipped me off was that I didn't feel as wet as I as supposed to be. Sitting on the

"Love is a strong term, and in this case, nearly mythical. You see, the reason our parents expect us to get married is because we have a similar soci-economic background. Which, according to their twisted logic, has resulted in similar upbringing and life experiences. Which is surprising, considering their age and everything they have been through." "So you don't believe in love?" "I do. I am just no too hopeful that love will blossom in our case." "But that is what our parents expect from our relationship. Isn't it?" "I am pretty sure that is not what they want. I guess they want a baby or something." "So... what do you expect from our relationship? In the long term." "Just that we will tolerate each other without wanting to gouge out each other's eyes at the end of the day, everyday. Ten years from now, of course" "Well, that's optimistic" "It's realistic, actuall

Disclaimer 1: I have never cooked Biriyani. I know at least three different styles of cooking it but I have never, and hopefully never will try cooking Biriyani. i don't want to demystify this mythical wonder. This was originally written for a friend of mine, and the Biriyani apparently turned out really good. So reposting it here for the greater good. Disclaimer 2: This is not really a biriyani recipe. It is a pulao- biriyani hybrid, and is based on Ambur biriyani and the kind of biriyani my mom makes. It is easy to cook, tastes amazing (or so I presume) and that is all that matters. Ingredients- FOR MARINATION: Chicken- 1 kg- small pieces. Biriyani usually uses large pieces, but using small pieces will cut down on the cooking time and will also keep the chicken evenly cooked throughout. Yoghurt- 1.5 tbsp Turmeric Ginger garlic paste- 1 tbsp Red chilli powder- 0.5 tbsp Salt- to taste Biriyani masala- .5 tsp (optional) Mix all the above ingredients, ensuring all the

Notting Hill is a shitty move that became really popular because the makers made a half dozen human sacrifices to the box office Gods. This is only if you take the move at face value. The characters are bland. The script is weak- it has no structure, the beats are in all the wrong places. The events are completely implausible. There is no lead up to the intense (?) romantic (?) relationship (?) between the two protagonists. Imagine a porn movie- a full porno movie not the five minute clips on Pornhub, and replace the naught bits with romance. That is what Notting Hill is. The key demographic for this movie are your average Nice GuysTM. Made in a time when most romance movies were targeted at women, this was a ballsy move on the director’s part. Very ballsy. Imagine a bunch of sad, lonely dudes filling up the movie theatre watching this movie, hoping they could someday find a woman as pretty as Julia Roberts who would accept them for who they are. It was directed by Richard Curtis. T

You don't cook the egg burji. The egg burji cooks itself. - Someone who's not me Egg burji is what you get when you try to make an omlet, but you lack the dexterity to flip semi cooked eggs, and break it. Ok, that joke is done to death, buried, resurrected and buried again. That's only because it's true. So, it's best to skip the being careful part and jump right into the sloppy, careless fuckery that results in a glorious mouth orgasm. An egggasm. Egg burjji is essentially desi scrambled egg. Like all other egg recipes, there are a million ways you can cook the burji. The egg is the only main ingredient. The rest are just filler stuff. So, Eliminate. Experiment. Enjoy.   Gordon Ramsy has an interesting way to make good scrambled eggs. (link here) Watch that. Now, we'll do the exact opposite of  what the Michelin star chef made, in order to make the perfect sides for beer/ rice- sambhar/ chappati/ egg sandwich etc. Viva la eggalusion! Chop a m

Hi there, new people who discovered my blog. There has been an insane spike in the views since the last month, not sure what influenced this, but thanks, I guess. Here's a quick update on the shenanigans I've been up to recently- - A secret project I'm not allowed to talk about until the official release. Sorry. - I've been writing my book. It's a trunk novel, so it might not get to see light. This is the fourth one i've started writing in the past year. I'm a lazy bastard and I hope that I don't abandon this one like it's brothers and sisters. - I have started reading, semi regularly. I am averaging at about one book every two weeks. There used to be times when I did two books every week. Fuck you internet, you sweet, distracting, time wasting machine thingie. - I have started posting on twitter. Well, I linked my facebook and twitter, so my fb posts show up on twitter. I still haven't gotten the hang of twittering yet. - I have put

Eggs are like non-veg potatoes. Extremely versatile. There are literally hundreds of ways to cook an egg, and you can never go wrong. Unless you want a boiled egg. Fucking boiled eggs.  It took me years, literally YEARS, to learn how to make good boiled eggs. It has one ingredient. The fucking egg. Cooked in water. That is all there is to it. And I have spent hours on end trying to cook it right. Peeling the egg is a pain in the ass. Uncooked egg is a pain in the ass. Wordsworth should have written a poem on peeling badly cooked boiled eggs. The pain, the agony, the depressing frustration of having wasted a perfectly good egg.  Lets take a step back and learn what makes a good  boiled egg-  1. It should be cooked through. The egg whites have to be cooked to soft, silky consistency. The yolk can range from runny yellow liquid awesomeness to soft yellow mushy awesomeness. 2. The shell should peel right. Without the end product looking like the leftovers of a rats mea