Pounding The Keyboard

Speaking alone Laughing at the moon Cursing the light Hating the night Calling out names that don’t exist Remembering faces that had long vanished Eyes that don’t see Heart that doesn’t feel Mind that can't recall Tears that won’t fall Hands that won’t touch Tongue that won’t stop Ears that won’t listen Words that sicken Everything has become an illusion Drowning you in a delusion "Nothingness beckons," She reckons

      So, there I was, inside a passenger jeepney, and sitting on my   right were two teenage boys who were still in their high school uniforms. They were talking animatedly, sometimes laughing loudly over a stale joke. Nothing wrong with it, except that they held hands while they talked.   Why in heaven’s name would they hold hands? I studied them for a while, they didn’t look gay at first glance, just two typical teenagers happy with each other’s company. Meanwhile, seated in front of us was a woman who would occasionally smile and throw knowing glances at the two boys.       When I gazed at the two teenagers again, one of them was now softly caressing the cheek of the other, okay, he's probably wiping some dirt off his companion's face. But they were staring at each other as if they were newly discovering the bliss, the heavenly feeling and magnificence of young true love. For a moment there, I was afraid that that they would suddenly sing Lionel Richie's “Endles

             Everyone has his or her addiction, it could be harmless and fleeting or thoroughly harmful,  it could be drugs, or food, or sex, or alcohol, or work or nicotine, or  caffeine, or gambling. Or love. Yes, you could be addicted to love, they say, and one of the symptoms of this addiction is your mind gets messed up when the precious object of your affection is just a few feet away and that you could almost smell and touch her, that you tend to lose track of everything happening around you and you lose concentration on what you’re presently doing every time it happens. It’s quite unhealthy, but not really dangerous and easy to cure—you just have to softly lunge at her and cuddle with her, of course, just make sure that you’re allowed to do that. You’re not allowed to do that? Tch, that’s when it becomes quite difficult; withdrawal symptoms would be real harsh. The earlier you start your rehabilitation, the better. And get the best doctor, please.        Addictio

She was always here in my heart Always the love of my life We were strangers, oceans apart But when I laid eyes on her, a part of me died…                                                 “Oceans Apart”        Roger Waters’ new album, Is This The Life We Really Want? is now out it in the market—and it doesn’t disappoint as almost all the songs are brilliant and angry and caustic and haunting and heartbreaking (and Pink Floyd-ish that will easily fit in The Wall) and yes, political as expected, with one song talking about a nincompoop who became a president). And my favorite among them is the “The Most Beautiful Girl.” Utterly poignant and haunting (Roger’s voice is emotive throughout), “The Most Beautiful Girl” is about a woman who was tragically killed ( I read somewhere that it’s about an innocent girl who was hit and killed by a bomb dropped somewhere in Syria) and the indifference of those who have caused her death. This is a stunning, emotional song, believe me. 

        Yay! (100x) Roger Waters (former frontman of Pink Floyd, bar none the greatest rock band in the universe) is releasing a new album this June entitled Is This The Life We Really Want? , which is touted to be highly political. US President Donald Trump, they say, is the main target. His last album, the stunningly astounding Amused To Death, was released 25 years ago—darn, his fans waited so long. But basing on the three songs (the very Pink Floyd-ish “Smell The Roses,” the haunting ballads “Déjà vu,” and “The Last Refugee,” ) that had been uploaded in YouTube, it seems that it’s   worth the wait. Lie with me now Under lemon tree skies Show me the shy, slow smile you keep hidden by warm brown eyes Catch the sweet hover of lips just barely apart And wonder at love's sweet ache And the wild beat of my heart Oh, rhapsody tearing me apart...