Expressions

Testing NewSpeak

2011-12-19T03:03:00.001+05:30

I luv mah frndz bro

i cn c u in d nite i cn c u in d moon lite.

i luv u

dis works!

Your Music. Our Cloud.

2011-07-25T18:25:00.004+05:30

Around an year back I was interning at Deloitte Hyderabad. One fine day I was sitting in the office and thinking how I could change the world, before giving in to Corn Flakes. I was searching the Internet for ideas for my Bachelor Thesis Project (BTP). I am passionate about music and entrepreneurship and wanted a project that resonated with these fields- A project on music that had some business value. I landed upon Audio Fingerprinting, which is basically the identification of song metadata (lyrics, artist, artwork etc.) from audio input. That sounded interesting and novel. So we chose it.

We had an open source audio fingerprinting algorithm which we were supposed to study. Sloppy and lazy as we were, we never worked on the project seriously. We sailed through the first two presentations easily with the least effort. Fortunately, we worked hard before the final presentation. We scraped the code through and through until we understood every aspect of it. We also realized that our algorithm could identify songs from the complete audio stream only - i.e., a very poor granularity for a better accuracy. Unfortunately, several mobile apps (like Schazm) already exist with amazing granularity - identifying songs from as small as 10 seconds of input with unbelievable accuracy. Now it was a little difficult to give a suitable justification for building a poorly granular system. We finally mentioned that we were building this for P2P filtering - users want to share songs over P2P softwares, we intercept the shared file, calculate its fingerprint, check if its copyright and hand him to police or let him share as the case be. Reasonable justification but a disastrous business proposition (We were, anyway, called Floyd Rose Acoustics in all software prototypes we had created. I love giving names! Remember Six Pack Apps?)

Today, I stumbled upon this. I was happy, excited and ashamed. Happy and excited, because of the amazing use Apple is putting our technology to. Ashamed, because of our lack of vision during the project execution. I am talking about the iTunes Match. iCloud in iTunes basically lets you backup your entire music collection in the cloud. What iTunes Match does is - it calculates the fingerprint of the song being backed up, matches it with the database of fingerprints (supposedly 18 million songs), finds out if your song has already been backed up by someone and accordingly uploads it to the cloud or simply puts a pointer to the file already on the server. That is smart. It saves thousands of files across the world from being uploaded. Saves bandwidth, saves time, saves server space.

This isn't very novel obviously. You will definitely not keep multiple copies of the same song in your data centers, but what particularly brings excitement (and shame) to me is that this exactly was our BTP - you have the entire song as input (no granularity issues). We could have had our own Cloud hosting company for storing your music collection seamlessly. We could have been "Floyd Rose Acoustics"!

Hopefully, we can still be. Rishabh Sood and Santosh Kumar - are you ~~listening~~ reading?

I think I kinda +1 you?

2011-07-22T19:16:00.002+05:30

I have always loved Google for its sheer innovation and eagerness to take on challenging problems. I still love Google for the same reason. That is, perhaps, why I am even more disheartened by the launch of Google+.

G+, as I have mentioned at several places, strikes me as a ripoff of Facebook and Twitter. There are a couple of interesting features like Hangouts (multiple client video chat) and Circles (neat way to organize your friend lists) but they are not revolutionary enough to inspire 750 million users to change their social network. When Facebook came up with its idea of social, it was almost revolutionary, non existent and innovative - Building a social framework and allowing third-party developers to build apps on top of that. Also, using the same social graph to provide a login and commenting platform for websites/forums etc. The major reason of Facebook's success was its Newsfeed. Facebook is live. It's a different page everytime you open it, or refresh it for that matter. That's what kept you hooked on to it. With Like buttons floating everywhere, the web had become a likeable place. We were moving towards a uniform world. It was so awesome.

Facebook was amazingly different from what existed. Google+ is not. It's just a recreation with a lot of javascript, colors and funnier names for things that already existed (cirlces for lists, news stream for newsfeed, google games for facebook apps). Some products have a huge impact on our lifestyle. They quietly lend their vocabulary to our parlance. For example, you Google stuff, you don't Bing it even if Bing delivers amazing results. You Tweet, you don't Post -on-a-microblogging-site.

You Like, you don't +1. And this will always remain the same, whether you like it or not.

Facebook Sidebar

2011-07-19T14:38:00.001+05:30

Although I hate the Facebook sidebar but I believe Facebook had a vision, which they mistook for an assumption, when they launched the feature.

Vision/Mistook Assumption-
Facebook users are always online, and if they are not, they will be as soon as they can be.

With that assumption, you don't really need to see who is online. You just search for the person and send them a message. It is likely that they will respond immediately (if they are online) or very soon (if they are not). They are trying to change the way people communicate - it's not about chatting but about sending messages easily.

As I mentioned, there are many reasons I hate the sidebar. First, I cannot quickly scroll through the list to see who is online (since there is no list) - You see, I am still holding on to the chat concept and a little skeptical about the assumption. Second, I miss the ease with which I could toggle my invisibiliy across Facebook lists (Remember the neat green button?). Third, I cannot let a machine learning algorithm decide which friends to talk to (I may have a friend I really want to talk to but they don't happen to be my frequently contacted friends).

So, Zuck, my friend, my inspiration, revert. The #sidebar is a #fail.

While my alarm gently beeps.

2010-10-13T19:27:00.003+05:30

I look at the wall and see the clock; lay there sleeping,
While my alarm gently beeps.
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping,
Still my alarm gently beeps

I don't know how nobody told you
how to unfold your lull
I don't know how someone controlled you
They taught and scold you

I look at my bridge and I notice it's burning,
While my alarm gently beeps.
With every mid-sem we must slowly be learning,
Still my alarm gently beeps.

I don't know how you were diverted,
You were perverted too.
I don't know how you were covert-ed,
No-one alerted you.

I look at the wall and see the clock; laid there sleeping,
While my alarm gently beeps.
I then look at the clock,
Still my alarm gently beeps.

Hyderabadi Biryani

2010-07-15T02:14:00.008+05:30

I am sitting in Hotel Westin, a luxury 5 star hotel in Hyderabad, for the induction programme, munching a Mentos. Next day, I am in the office. The visual impression of Hi-Tec city absolutely undermined my expectation of it that I had formed on the inner surface of my eyelids while enjoying a reverie or two, which, ladies and gentlemen, involved flying satellites, automated vehicles and employed robots. Nevertheless, the air conditioner and fast internet assuaged me. Internship was an exceptionally pleasant experience, which, as a certain crazy Knopfler fan would have put, was ‘Money for nothing, Chics for free (?)’. The second claim is of dubious authenticity as the question mark elegantly puts forth. Often the eyes pr(a)y for a glimpse and heart wishes to skip a beat, or as my lame romantic self would have put, a momentary coronary occlusion, just to end up being consoled with only a remote euphemism of beauty. I was punctual to office - 1:00 PM everyday.

Pictorial evidence of how I passed my time, and you could too, in the office -

Fig1: Pacman is a brilliant game.

Fig2: I had reached World 8-2 with continuous practice.

Fig3: Imagine me sporting my bluetooth headphones, reclined in a black colored chair writing this blogpost.

Vid1: How to make corn flakes in office and make a video of 'how to make corn flakes in office without getting caught' without getting caught. (Prerequisites: A vending machine that gives milk, corn flakes brought from home and a devilish streak).

Having lived in R and Haridwar (note the rhyme, if you may) for so many years, I am not used to the concept of cities larger than 4 kilometers in diameter. Language was not a problem - we had our Talisman. Whenever we were showered on with Telugu, we conveniently said - “Telugu Radhu” (I don’t know Telugu). Dimwits don't notice the self-contradictory display of humor. Sometimes, especially when asking routes, language does pose a problem. This flow chart comes in handy -

Fig4: Survival rules

Unbelievable as it may seem, bus rides were a new experience for me. Having seen plenty of bollywood movies, I had hoped to begin my romantic life by acting hero to a frail lady being eveteased in a crowded bus. Post Script would explain why this never happened. Buses were sometimes so crowded that I couldn't possibly enjoy my much adored arabesque poses to relieve the back pain.

A lot can happen over coffee. A lot more can happen over vodka. Fortunately, the discreet gentleman that I am, never went beyond 2 pegs of any drink - martini, whiskey and rum being the new drinks tried. A weekend was well spent with Mr. Jetman and Mr. Aditya Goel (the one with the blackberry) with Toy Story 3D and Karate Kid down the throat. The herculean task of finishing Atlas Shrugged is one of the feats that deserve a separate blogpost.

Lots of new ideas, thoughts and realizations deluged upon me as I spent my time here. I discovered my dark side - obstinance and misogyny are lovely concepts. Thanks to Miss Rand for the former and women for the latter. With the former, you can go to Somajiguda for Rs. 70 when the auto wallah demands Rs. 250. With the latter, you can live a peaceful life. As fate would have it, immeasurable (because it cannot be measured anyway) life, optimism, enthusiasm and mischief have endeared me. Photography, saxophone, piano and football being some of the recently developed interests. Half of these, ladies and gentlemen, would be compromised for bean bag despite the immeasurableness of things. I have been listening to Mozart, Antonio Vivaldi, Ludvig Van Beethoven and the likes (they are amazing!). 'Chiaroscuro' was a word that I read somewhere. Lovely, it is.

I did get the opportunity of basking in seclusion once or twice and being pensive, the result of which is here. And before the post turns into a more vivid description of my exploits, I'd take leave.

P.S: Contrary to popular belief, there ain't no biryani in Hyderabad (If you don't get the obvious sarcasm, I hereby declare you an apostate of your virility. Take off the devil's horns. You are banished from the clan)

P.P.S. - I get influenced by books very easily, as the several mentions of Miss Rand would have proved. I am reading Lolita these days.

P.P.P.S - Thanks to Gaurav Jain, Shobhit Singh and Kumar Ishan. Also to Rohit Agarwal ( AIR 51 IIT JEE), Robin Philip, Ashustosh Sinha, Ankur Ujjwal and Aritra Gupta.

Ain't talking 'bout love

2010-06-28T01:36:00.003+05:30

She gazed up at the battered sky. The pale orange of the late dawn was strewn in every fabric of it. The streets were devoid of human element. She cast a furtive glance at all those who would be a witness to this felony. She lit up the cigarette.

This little thing that lay clutched between her fingers and in the caress of her lips, was her indulgence. It was her companion in miserable times. A charming solace. It was her lover when the chasms had not yet healed. She used to love the desperation with which she’d wait for the next smoke. The passion glared in her eyes at the very sight, should fate separate them for too long. She acknowledged the guilt but the collusion between her heart and mind permitted her the pleasure.

The cigarette burned. With every passing moment and with every ounce of inebriation it offered, it burned. Strange it was how an object of impatient desire soon turned into a toxic waste. Funny it was that this little thing that she needed desperately a minute back would burn her if she held it any longer. The stub must be thrown away, however dear the smoke might have been. With a flick of her fingers, she performed the ritual.

The stub stopped burning in a while. In her moment of joy, the careless lady forgot looking back. She probably uttered something but the excessive silence made her inaudible. You know a thing about cigarette stubs? -They have no hatred and no love. Indifference is their only language and the well-versed lady couldn't read silence.

Last Night

2010-01-14T12:09:00.009+05:30

Last night was fun, good good fun. I learned how to play billiards.

Basically I have realized that billiards is not an ordinary game in any sense. It's not only about putting the balls in the holes. It has more dimensions and far deeper motives. You may play it for the sheer fun or for the off spring of experience you get out of it or because you really had nothing better to do last night. Most importantly, billiards needs prior practice. Before playing it with other people, you want to play with yourself. Play it alone. Learn how to hold the stick. Learn how to shoot. Learn how to aim. Most importantly, try to remain calm and stable even in the excitement of the ritual. Ask yourself. Can you choose the right ball? Can you choose the right hole? Are your fingers in the right posture? Are you moving the stick correctly?

Billiards allows growth. The growth from an amateur to a hardcore player is both enjoyable and exciting. Billiards, I have realized is a lot like literature. The fathoms of literature are large enough to leave room for reading between the lines. So does billiards. You can never get enough of it and believe me you'll want to play whenever you can find a table. You will never want it any less unless you've just had it. I hope you get the point :).

P.S. : I am impressed by Tiger Woods' recent Billiard achievements. He is a favourite.

Bathed and Confused

2010-01-11T14:56:00.000+05:30

You may choose to skip this post if you don't believe in the concept of bathing. I recently had a bath. For your information, I bathe with cold water even in the chilly weather of these days, whenever I do.

Bathing with cold water sends shivers down my spine, quite literally. I shriek when the water pours on me for distraction's sake. In the early days, I used to feel embarrassed of this ritual but then the famous adage occurred to me - 'Bathe like no one's watching'.

I strongly hold that bathing with warm water is in futility. Contrary to popular belief, it is more discomforting. So I decided to be the guinea pig to prove my theory to the world. I walk scantily clad, wrapped in a towel, through the corridors announcing my departure and I return with the cry of 'I am alive. Look and believe.' Its not the bath that is painful. In the wise words of Led Zeppelin - 'The pain of bath cannot exceed the woe of aftermath' ['The Tattle of Evermore', Robert Plant, Sandy Denny et. al., 1971].

P.S. - I used to believe that the consequences of liquor and love are in the psyche, not for real. Then I realized how the spirit has the power to gain a consummate control over the body. Then I came up with the theory of cold and chill being psychological. Prove me wrong once again, won't you?

Why so serious? (Part I)

2009-01-04T01:49:00.003+05:30

Recently I realized that I am insane. I have been laughing without any reason lately. I have been laughing madly at things that used to twitch my lips into a ridiculous posture otherwise. I even laughed while talking on the phone the other day. I escaped dire consequences by stating that I have a congenital nervous disorder. I laughed at what I said. Someone suggested an overdose of sitcoms as the reason. I listened intently. Then I laughed.

That aside, I went to Delhi during the vacations and decided that I would note down every little insignificant thing that crossed my mind. That would be too much. So I thought I would only note a few worthy things. I ended up with a list of weird ideas. I had, nonetheless, vowed to post them. Some of these points are worth remembering and may even help you come clean from an embarrassing situation. The author has meticulously noted them down for you by walking on such slippery floors

1. 1. Pilot.
I recently read a survey done by TIMES magazine. It revealed that 62% of those who get up between 7:00 AM and 11:00 AM are prone to get irritated by long articles. I discussed this with the Taxi driver sitting beside me. I was pretty sure he would recommend bullets and numbers. He instead said he would not read at all. I decided to use numbered format anyway, as is evident.

2. 2. Truck Drivers
The same driver that disappointed me was trying to overtake a truck. I am avid reader of things written at the back of vehicles. I asked the driver why they wrote such meaningless things at the back of their vehicles. I was pretty sure he would say it was traditional. He instead said he never read them at all.
As a child I used to wonder what these writings meant. The truck that we were still trying to overtake had “Blow Horn” written at the back with lots of space between the two words. Since I haven’t grown up, I pondered upon these words for a few minutes. Earlier they seemed meaningless. Now, I found them pornographic.

3. 3. The One with the low literacy rate.
The same old frustrating driver was trying to overtake the truck. Another one though. He was driving recklessly. To tell you the truth, I am scared of these drivers. Especially the ones who don’t read at all. But I re-established my faith in him by reminding myself that he was an experienced driver. He must have driven to Delhi hundreds of times.
We stopped at a petrol tank and got our tank filled in and pockets holed out. The driver continued his pursuit of yet another truck. I wasn’t afraid of this driver, I reminded myself. Two fellows on scooter told us that the petrol tank wasn’t locked properly. The flap was open. The driver fixed it and returned with a relieved mind. Confidently he said, “Tabhi b*h*n**** load nahin le rahi ****** gadi”. I tried to think how an open petrol tank cover could affect the performance of a vehicle. Suddenly, my eyebrows surged up in horror. This driver wasn’t exactly an experienced one. I was scared to death.

4. Quote Unquote : This is an enlightening story with a moral in the end.

I stayed in Delhi for two days and in Faridabad for another two. We went to the “Crown Interiorz" mall at F’bad where I watched a movie (Ghajini) in a theatre for the first time. Yes, I have lived in a world full of theatres for 19 years and hadn’t seen a movie in theatre before (except for a theatre in Haridwar that barely qualifies as one). Lots of cute girls come to the theatres, I realized. That’s why lots of jobless guys come too. That’s how these multiplexes are minting money. I had come with my sister and a friend.

The show was going to start in a few minutes. I had been looking all around fervently before the lights went out.

Sis: “Er… What has caught you?”

Me: “Cute girls. No…wait…lots of them.”

Sis: “ ‘Don’t count your chickens before they hatch’, dear bro.”

Me (without breaking the ritual of looking around fervently) : “No dear sis, its ‘count your chics before they’re hitched.’.”

Me(suddenly realizing what I had spoken): *quickly* “Er… That’s a new phrase. It replaces the old one.”

Me: “Er…Did I actually say that?.”

Moral : Two morals. First, think twice before speaking. Second, don’t speak at all when you are busy adoring cute girls in a theatre because you will not think in such a situation anyway.

5. From the bag of the Eavesdropper.

We went to an electronic store in the mall. I eavesdropped two people talking to each other.

Red Tshirt: “B***** Be**** M**** ”
Black Tshirt: “****** “.

Okay, not a very interesting conversation. We shall digress to another one.

The one with the iPod Touch: “What do you think this beauty costs?”
The one without: “I think…lemme guess…. Rs. 2000?”

The one with : “You nuts or what. You insult this thing again and I break the 211 bones of your body.”
The one without: “I don’t have 211 bones, you idiot.”

The one with : “See! You don’t even have enough of them and you mess with me.”

That was a hilarious conversation.

6. The Theory of Eleventh-Hour Amendments.

This theory may help an ignorant and careless person (read point 4) escape an embarrassing situation at the very last moment.

Moral in a nutshell : If you cannot manage to think before speaking, at least try to think while speaking .

Exemplified : When you are with your family on an outing and you stumble upon something that sucks, how do you behave?

Don’t : It sucks.
Do: Its sick!

You can even manipulate it at the last moment. Illustration : “It s.. sick!” Okay, I know it’s tough to explain it this way. But believe me, it works.

------------------------------------------------------------

To be continued…..

Look out for more such tips to help you battle humiliation and giving you an insight into the life behind locked doors in the next edition of “Why So Serious? A Guide to Life and more.”

Another Brick In The Wall

2008-11-17T22:44:00.009+05:30

There are a lot of things to be happy about. Unforgettable moments of Thomso , a decent midterm exam, ….unforgettable moments of Thomso….., a much-awaited Dusshera holiday ….unforgettable moments of Thomso…. and the likes. But life has been pretty ironic lately. A crush that still haunts me, totally genuine ; but unforunately on a senior, and even worse, already committed. Anyways, there are more pressing issues to discuss. With end sems round the corner, I have every right to be tense. And I am. Not because I am yet to start but because there are people who are revising and still I am yet to start.

“Whoa!” Another big yawn. Another flick of the eyelashes...and another thought of Monica Gellar wakes me up. I had vowed not to indulge in reveries anymore as long as I am in the class. So I looked out of the door instead. I gazed at the passing students for a while. Their unshaven faces and hobbling gait reminded me that end sems were approaching. That reminded of the fact that I have been depressed about an issue lately.

‘Why do people only do what they are supposed to do? Why do they only think what they are supposed to think?’ Why are we on the precipice of becoming so dull and lifeless? I have had nightmares of flying hard disks crushing me, papers choking me and ties strangling me to death. ‘Was I born to be a slave; a slave of books and CGPA?’ Even Goddess Saraswati has four arms representing the four aspects of human personality, namely: mind, intellect, ego and alertness. Why do I see a sparsely crowded Sports Complex? Why do we never win an Inter IIT? Why do we never think beyond a decent salary. Why can’t we speak in front of a crowd? And if we are really proud to be in a prestigious technical institute, why not be the next Sir Abdul Kalam?

May be because we never had the time to think. Maybe because the last tutorial was too difficult or we were too busy copying the practical. Maybe because we never dream beyond what is glaringly visible. It is time we should learn to be happy. Get out of your rooms and do things that you really want to do- Things that make you happy, things that you enjoy. Don’t kill your hobbies just because IIT torments you with 5 credit courses and quizzes. We all have interests and passions that drive us. Pursue them. Prove that you are alive. A somber millionaire knows only one thing; how to make more money. A cheerful pauper enjoys the two meals that he gets. Things that you own start owning you one day. Learn to socialize, learn to smile and learn to enjoy every moment of life.

Whoa! I just broke the vow. Hard disks and computer chips were still the topic of discussion in the front rows. Breathless dicussions among those of the higher echelon, never ending, way too titillating for some, still echoing from far away.

Anyways, never forget that those who take the already beaten path never leave their footprints behind. If you keep doing what you've always done, you will never get anything more than what you've always got. If you don’t claim your humanity, you will become a statistic. You’ve been warned.

P.S. : Special Thanks to Fight Club (the movie).

Time

2008-08-04T21:45:00.003+05:30

Time had played its trick and it was a stalemate…..

My friends had gone back to college. I had a lot of things to do and a lot of time too but no willingness. I grabbed my new old-phone and kept waiting for it to make a sound, but it reveled in the warmth of my palm noiselessly. Some vacuously boring minutes passed by. The clock ticked away in monotony. Then, all of a sudden, my phone jumped to life indicating the arrival of an SMS.

“News: bomb blasts at several places in Bangalore kill 49.”

I was shocked and shaken badly. I started thinking about this inhumane and ghastly incident. Indignation sprouted up and writhed inside me like a venomous snake. I was helpless, helpless because I could only sympathize with the victims. I realized, yet again, that I am so insignificant and powerless that I cannot punish the culprits and can neither expect the same from the government. I plunged into retrospective thoughts to pacify myself. Instead, I ended up recalling the pitiable days of my life. I pensively recalled the first day at college.

I had sat like an innocent lamb waiting for the butcher to perform the rituals. I had waited eagerly for freedom which came after a lot of pain. I had felt as if IIT was incumbent upon me by my own choice. Those were the days I used to drown into pleasant reveries during the class often. I desperately searched for the sardonic video camera which used to spy each of our activities in the classroom during schooldays, and which I used to despise odiously. All I could see was the projector hanging motionlessly, as if jeering at us for the unneeded nostalgia. The Professor’s story seemed like esoteric verses of a Greek Poem. I waited for a smile or levity from the butcher that never came. All that came was occult knowledge that was unfathomable for most. I was forlorn because I could not see my friends sitting beside me with their flaccid ties, carrying on clandestine IIT JEE preparations under the table, grabbing every opportunity now and then to have a look at the girls sitting on the right side of the room from the corner of their eyes. I was in delirium about the probability I would be able to live through these lectures for the next four years…..The nostalgia of the nostalgia was broken by another beep of the phone. An SMS informed me that my friends were calling me for a game of cards. They had gathered in one of the friends’ home where they also planned to watch a movie. I gleefully started dressing up.

I slept peacefully that night. I woke up and realized I had two new messages. One said that we were going to have a similar party today as well. I was happy. Another informed about the Ahmadabad blasts. I was upset. Houses had been reduced to shanties and families to orphans and widows.

Time had again played its trick, and it was a stalemate yet again, but the players had changed…..Nobody loses in a stalemate and that’s a good thing, but the bad thing is, that nobody wins either…..

Words of Wisdom : The time is gone, the post is over, thought I had something more to say.

A Parody of Repentance

2008-07-24T00:28:00.006+05:30

He escaped from his slumber reluctantly, yawning lazily and coming back to reality. He shoved away the crumpled bed sheet insolently that kept him warm all through the night, maybe because it was no longer a need. He looked out of the window to see the dark clouds hovering over the sweet earth like the dark thoughts shrouding his innocence. His features were languid and face weary, having woken up recently, but his mind was wary of the malicious intentions looming over. His conscience was transformed into a battleground, being slaughtered by the battle between sin and morality, avarice and austerity, trying to prevent the inevitable, just like the last time. Just like the last time, he encouraged himself to the sinister act, the struggle he was doing to prevent it bringing the solace that he at least tried. Just like the last time, he was flaccidly consoled by his vain efforts. Once again, he ignored the forebodings.

He brought the instrument of pain, pleasure and destruction at his disposal. His life, like, and due to the apocalyptic device, had become disposable. The savior of lives was taking away his. The fear of ignominy and the shame that would follow compelled him to denounce the vice that he could never renounce. He was aware of the stark reality. He was a puppet of his desires. He was a mere servitor of his lust, a minion of his cravings and a slave of his despicable yearnings. Contritely and petulantly, he pierced himself, allowing the poison to spread and adulterate his blood. Vitiated and subdued, he stood, waiting for the chemical to insensate him. With every passing moment, numbness gained control. He found himself in the desperately awaited pagan paradise, the evil reigning supreme.

Hours passed by. The beast still inflicted misery relentlessly. He had not gained consciousness as yet.

He escaped from his slumber reluctantly; yawning lazily and coming back to reality…..He was creeping in malaise trying to creep out of it….He made fake promises in the name of morality, just to forget all of them the next time…He laid there petrified, drenched in remorse. He laid there, mortified by the mimicry of resentment….drowned in the mockery of regret…..in a parody of repentance.

Words Of Wisdom (WOW) : Anything worth living for is worth dying for....and anything worth dying for is worth living for.