King of Nothing

I woke up today to a world unknown, the empty bed trapping me within its linen walls; feeling comfortable, yet not. And then I remember: the constant heavy burden. My mind, my eyelids, all so heavy.

It's like this everyday now. Feeling tortured when there's no real torture. Or is there? I can't think, my mind is still trapped in its own perfect little world. But it'll join me soon.

The water brings about a refreshing feeling that seems to fill me with life. Even the harsh cloth feels good on my skin, because it feels so real. But it is all temporary. As I open my eyes, my mind finally reconnects with reality. Everything is clear now. I see my image in the mirror, staring back at me, as if it was getting ready to laugh sarcastically.

I breath out heavily, as if I were trying to exhume some... thing. I don't know what it is, but it's there. And it feels heavy. My mind, my eyelids, all so heavy.

The house is alive now. But it seems like such an insignificant and irrelevant type of life. None of it really matters in the end. I'd take sanity, well-being and good health over all of it any day of the week.

I stumble back into the room. It smells like nothing, it feels like nothing. The resting place for the King of Nothing. Or is it "King of his own world"? Or maybe the two are one and the same?

The phone rings. As usual, I know who it is and what they have to say. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I know too many things. Anticipation can be the mother of all evils. It's neat when things happen just as you expect them to. But there's a thin line between anticipation and boredom. Some spontaneity for the King?

There's a knock on the door. Again. I didn't hear the first one, but I just know it happened. I'm so sure of it that it almost feels as if I heard it. I'm told to hurry up. Seems like it's all I do these days. Hurry. My anger level rises. I don't know why, but I'm just so bloody angry at that point. Maybe it's because I know. I hate being told something I already know.

I reach for my third bottle of water. Water is my morning medicine. I collect all the stupid, irrelevant things that I'll be "needing" for the day and head upstairs. Everything is irrelevant. Except the mask. The mask is essential.

The stench of yesterday's smoke and stale food fills the air. Nauseating, but familiar. And real. As usual I'm the last to leave, but I don't care that people are waiting. They couldn't care less about the important things in my life, so why care about theirs? I close my eyes the entire time. I need as much rest as I can afford these days. We arrive, and I'm instantly wishing for it to be over. As I recap what needs to be done, I can't help but think that I just can't be bothered.

Somehow, time flies by. I walk around on auto-pilot with my mask. Everything is fine and dandy for the King. All smiles, all good. All masked, covering up some sort of deep, dark secret. Covering up some truth that I have been unable to find for years.

And then suddenly, the excitement kicks in. I realise that I'm going home. Euphoria. My mask fades and I find serenity. Peace from all chaos. Suddenly all is right with the world. My senses come alive, and I can feel everything around me. I step outside on the balcony. Cold winds immediately engulf my body, and I welcome them with open arms. I'm not on auto-pilot. The King's ship captains itself now.

But then reality seeps in. It is time, and my anger swells up again. I need more time, much more time. I head downstairs to my room. I close the door, and I feel as if I'm in a coffin. As I lay in bed, euphoria turns into dysphoria. My mind, my eyelids, all so heavy.

And then that uncomfortable mountain settles on my chest. Its a mountain that symbolizes everything, yet it contains nothing, and I am its King. The mighty, lonely King of Nothing. I look at the broken empire that has become my life, and I try and think back to when it all went sideways. A dramatic turn of events indeed...

HDH

As I was doing a bit of spring cleaning (more like Ramadan cleaning) last week, I came across something that I wrote a while back, and I thought I had lost the paper it was written on. I guess it sort of (very briefly) covers the phases you go through in a relationship from the very beginning up until the point where you are HDH'ed: heartbroken, devasted and helpless.

I don't usually share things like this, but knowing me I'll probably lose the paper again. So... for the sake of saving it somewhere, here goes:


Guide me with your smile
As I fall victim to your grace
Stop, give me a while
To comprehend the beauty of your face

Bury my heart into yours
I want a reason to breath
Explore my deepest cores
And erode all my sorrows and fears

I stand before you
A broken image of my past
Help me, I implore you
Help me find out who I am at last

Draw my curtains and reveal the truth
Smile at me with your deadly eyes
Explain to me why I'm so in love with you
And reveal what I fail to realise

Tell me how I've fallen so deep
Tell me how you got the best of me
Tell me why I keep losing sleep
Tell me how to cure this love entropy

Was I nothing but a story?
Was I little more than a fond memory?
Am I the only one feeling all this loss?
Was I nothing more than a bridge you crossed?

Incosiderate People and Other Random Things That Piss Me Off

(Warning: This post contains language which I personally don't consider offensive at all, and which I consider is completely justified given the fact that I get really angry thinking about these things. So kindly refrain from using responses such as "yi shu vulgaaaaire!")

There are three things that I can't tolerate in life: traffic jams, stupid people, and inconsiderate people. My ultimate nightmare would probably involve me stuck in a traffic jam behind some douchebag who says shit like "I think the internet is broken" with his car in between two lanes.

But let's leave traffic jams and stupidity for another post. I want to focus on inconsiderate people and other random things that piss me off. So in no particular order, here goes.

1. I hate people who put their seats back on a flight without bothering to look if anyone is behind them and if that person minds. You KNOW there are other people with you on the flight. You saw them when you stood in line at the ticket counter. And at passport control. And while waiting at the gate. And while you're on the bus / walking down the tunnel of doom going to the airplane. And while you're forcing your oversized hand luggage into the above compartment, as you violently shove other people's shit out of the way, stuffing them at awkward angles to make space for your fucking things. And how someone after all of that can still put their seat all the way back like there is nothing behind them is just beyond me. And then, when you tell them to push their seat forward because you're uncomfortable with their head rest almost in your mouth, they give you this look of discontent! Like you annoyed them! Well why don't you fucking fly first class then you asshole?

2. I hate people who double park their cars for elongated periods of time. Anyone who's been to Abu Dhabi knows how the city has a huge issue with parking spots, or lack thereof. The area I'm in is a dense residential / commercial area. Meaning you have parking issues whether it's day or night. And there were so many times I'd be leaving to go to work in the morning, and have to end up taking a cab because some asshole double parked in front of my car, obviously leaving no number to contact. The first time it happened I maintained my cool, and took a cab. The second time it happened I got annoyed, and took a cab. The third time it happened I got really fucking angry, and took a cab. The fourth time onwards, I started keying the car. And when I say keying, I mean I would literally carve the word "asshole" in big letters on the back of the his/her car. This way: 1) he/she won't notice it till later, and won't be able to get back at me (even though I drive a rental and don't really give a shit), 2) he/she would drive around the crowded streets of Abu Dhabi, and everyone behind him/her would know exactly what he/she is: a fucking asshole.

3. I hate people who take up two (and sometimes three) parking spots. As I noted earlier, parking in certain areas in Abu Dhabi is a complete nightmare, yet some douchebag decides that he/she has the luxury of taking up as many parking spots as their car can physically occupy. Why the fuck would you do that? If you think about it, that act of complete stupidity is an indication of a couple of facts: 1) you park like an asshole, and therefore you and the idiot who passed you in driving school should be burned alive, 2) no matter how much of a "hurry" you are in, it literally would take you 10 seconds to fix your shit parking job, and the fact that you think that your 10 seconds are more precious than the additional 15-30 minutes I have to spend driving around in circles looking for a parking spot makes me want to slap your mother for not having an abortion.

4. I hate people who drive slow on the fast lane. It's called a "slow lane" because it's meant for trucks, vans, and slow drivers. In this case slow can be an indication of the speed of your car, or the speed of your mental processing ability. And what I find so bizarre is that if you hit the person with your high beam once or honk once, many of them completely ignore you, usually because they're doing something much more important like thinking about what song to hear next or what to have for lunch. And after you do that and they don't move, naturally you get frustrated and strike them with several high beams followed by a long press of the horn which, if held for long enough, will actually start to sound like "move out of the way you fucking turd". And the most bizarre thing of all is that they actually get mad at YOU! "How dare you call me a fucking turd with your horn!" And they always look at you in the rearview mirror and give you the all-too-famous "what" sign with their hand.


I think from now on my response to that hand gesture would be the use of an even more famous hand gesture.


5. Sometimes when you are standing in line at the airport, and you are in a wonderful airport like that in Jeddah which is crowded 24/7, you have the luxury of standing in a long line to get to the ticket counter. And 9 out of 10 times, I have been especially blessed with an even more awesome luxury: an idiot behind me. Every time the line moves, said idiot would move forward and hit my heel with his luggage cart. 7 times out of those 9 times, the asshole doesn't bother apologizing. Because apparently it's your fault for stopping abruptly. And I learned that no amount of turning-the-head-back-and-throwing-a-displeased-look moves you do would get them to stop. The solution is to turn around, with your full body. Yes, trust me, your whole body. This is very important because it indicates that you are an aggresive person with a short temper. You give them a window of opportunity to apologize, standard practice calls for a maximum of 5 seconds, depending on the intensity of the bump to your heel (the stronger it is, the less seconds you give). You then make sure you get their attention because they usually look down or off somewhere in the distance pretending that they're looking for their cousin or twin sister or whatever, and you do that with a firm and confident "Hey." And when you get their attention, you need to give them a death stare. One that says "I'm not crazy enough to hurt you badly right this second, but I do have the ability to rip your spine out of your mouth". Don't hesitate to practice this in front of a mirror a few times. For reference, it looks a little bit like this:


They'll probably think that you're a mean asshole, and will probably make tons of assumptions about you. That's all fine though. Because don't forget, you now have the perceived ability to rip their spine out of their mouth. And that is some seriously cool shit.

6. I hate parents that make their kids wear squeaky shoes in public. I mean seriously, they are only cute up to the point when the kid actually learns how to walk, then it just becomes fucking annoying. Kids by nature have two obsessions: 1) exploring places they've never been to before, and 2) running away from you, both of which involve an excessive amount of running. Why would you go and do something so stupid like make them wear squeaky shoes out in public? If you think it's so adorable then do it in your own shitty house where only you would suffer. Does the entire world have to know that you have a kid that loves to run around and not listen to you? Or is it simply that you have absolutely no confidence in your ability to keep an eye on your kids as they run around wreaking havoc, and you resort to making them wear the human equivalent of a cow bell so you can track them down? How FBI of you! Absolutely brilliant! FYI: if you lack the ability to keep an eye on your children, then don't have any fucking children. And don't join the FBI either, their use of squeaky shoe technology as a tracking mechanism was discontinued sometime in the 1980's.


7. I fucking hate elevators. I mean the concept itself is brilliant, I can imagine some guy in the 1800's was coming back home, drunk out of his mind, he gets home, remembers that he has to climb the stairs, and goes like "fuck... I wish I can press a button and be home..." I guess to be more specific, I hate elevator users. Here's a little story to explain why: One day, I get to the elevators at our office and there was a guy standing there, and the down button was pressed. Mind you, this was the ground floor, and the floors beneath are storage areas. So I press the up button. So he looks at me and flashes this "you're a fucking moron" smile, and he says: "excuse me but are you heading up or down?" and I go like: "up". And he says: "so why did you press up?" so then I looked at HIM with a "you're a fucking moron" smile and said: "why what was I supposed to press?" and he goes like "well, you want the elevator to come down to you, so you press down to bring it down." I was at a loss for words. I don't know what made me more angry, the fact that he was so wrong, or the fact that he was trying to put me down with an incorrect fact. And I didn't even know where to begin to try and explain to him the error of his douchy ways. Usually I refrain from being rude, but I was in no mood to be fucked with that day, and I really didn't appreciate the guy's shitty approach, but I kept my cool anyway. So the elevator arrived, we stepped in, the doors closed, I pressed the 9th floor, he pressed the 14th floor. It was just me and him, and instead of punching him in the balls, I instead told him: "you're wrong. You always press the direction you're going to." And he was like "man, trust me, I know what I'm talking about. It's ok, it's a common mistake that many people make". Now I was absolutely furious. I was so close to telling him how he too was a common mistake that his mother made, but I controlled the urge, and all of a sudden, a familiar bowl movement gave me a much better idea. I waited till we were passing the 8th floor, and as unbelievable as this may sound, I silent-farted, got to the 9th floor, told the guy "research it. You're wrong", and stepped out. This may have been harsh given the heavy meal I had the night before. But in retrospect, I hope the fucker choked all the way to his floor and died an ugly, horrible death.
And I only got this idea because I can't count the number of times I stepped into someone's fart cloud on an elevator. And the problem with it is that it doesn't even end there, because eventually you have to step out of the elevator. And if you're as unlucky as I am in those situations, an entire horde of people are waiting for the elevator on the same floor you're getting off on (no pun intended). So I have every right to pay someone the same respect, and what better person than an asshole who doesn't understand basic elevator mechanics?
There are other problems I have with elevators. There are times when I feel elevators are evil metallic masterminds whose sole purpose of existence is to fuck with you. For instance, you'd be running to catch an open elevator. It can close at any time and save you the hassle of running for no reason. But no, it prefers to wait for you, seemingly innocent and harmless, and as you are about to enter the doors close on you, leaving you feeling violated and totally raped.
And when you are in dire need of a bathroom, the elevator will stop on every floor possible to ensure that you don't make it through the ordeal without sustaining permanent damage to your bladder.
And I hate how some people mis-press. Like when someone presses 5, and then presses 8. They aren't even next to each other on the fucking keypad! Thank goodness new elevators are now equipped with anti-retard systems that allow you to cancel a floor selection.

8. I hate asshole road-crossers. By that I mean people that cross roads while applying minimal intelligence and/or consideration for cars on the road. There are three kinds of asshole road-crossers (or ARC's). The first kind of ARC's are the kind that see you speeding down the road, and you see them in the distance and you start to use telepathy to try and tell them not to fucking move. Then they decide that it's a perfectly good idea to step off the sidewalk anyway and start crossing the street, forcing you to slam the breaks physically and slam their mother verbally. And then there's that moment where you make eye contact, and you would expect that they would make some sort of apologetic gesture. But instead, they look at you and give you the "what?" hand gesture (see above illustration). Fucking assholes...
The second kind of ARC's are similar to the first, the only difference being that you don't actually see them in the distance because they jump out from behind a parked car / van. Assholes like that live in their own personal bubble, in some sort of magical world where there are unicorns and where you are free to cross any road without checking for any cars. Selfish bastards like that deserve to be raped. By a unicorn. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
The third and final kind of ARC's are the ones that REALLY piss me off. Sometimes I'd be driving, and I'd see someone trying to cross a road but can't because too many cars are whizzing by. Where appropriate, and if possible, sometimes I do the courteous thing and slow down to allow them safe passage, usually with a hand motion telling them that's its ok to proceed because I won't run them over (today). 9 out of 10 times, not only do they completely ignore my courteous gesture and provide me with no sort of "thank you", but they cross the road at an unbelievably slow pace. I could have been an asshole and whizzed by just like everyone else. I could have been an even bigger asshole and slowed down, have you cross the road, and then run your ass over, instantly turning you into roadkill. In retrospect, I think I should have been the "even bigger asshole" and made your mother cry over your inconsiderate, mashed up corpse.

Seeing as how I'm absolutely furious at the moment, I think I'll lay this post to rest. A Part 2 may come about one day.

Cheers.