the black lullaby

Ah Christmas, it’s almost here, again. This year’s gone by so fast that some of its memories feel as though they’re much older.

When I was a little boy I used to love Christmas more than my birthday. I was an ardent believer of Santa Clause and I used to write him a letter every year and post it too. The one year, I remember seeing that my gifts under the Christmas tree were wrapped in the same paper my aunt had brought home earlier that evening. But even after that, I continued to believe and I continued to write to him. Every year the gift I would ask for got a little less expensive but a little harder to acquire. I’d moved above asking for material things and I’d started asking him for things relating to my family and friends.

Then one year, I stopped writing. But it was more than me putting my pen down. I stopped believing. I don’t really remember why but all I know is that Christmas started becoming less magical, less loving and less anticipatory. I know that a lot of people will say it’s because we’ve made the season so commercial now and therefore the magic of it is gone. But the truth is that Christmas has always been commercial. So why have we only recently started to use it as an excuse to stop celebrating?

Been thinking about this a lot and the more I think the more I want this Christmas to be special and I have this feeling it will be. I don’t know if it’s because the weather is suddenly cooler or because we’ve started doing Christmas communication for most of our clients… but I do know that there’s something different about this year. I feel like a kid again, I feel like I can believe again and I really, really want to. 

Call me crazy but I’m going to write to Santa again this Christmas and I’m going to ask him for what I want. Hope he remembers me and hope he forgives me for having stayed away for so long.

Ok so I’ve been tagged by thekillromeoproject and it seems I have to write this letter to my past self, this should be interesting. Here we go…

Dear me,

I’d like to tell you that you’ve made all the right choices in life but the truth is you didn’t. Please wipe that look of absurd shock off your face immediately and read through to the end. 

Yea, so you didn’t make the right choices, most of the time, and sometimes with a little guidance you managed to break even. But get this. Through every mistake you are going to make, you’re going to become a stronger person. Think about that when you lock yourself up in your room, spending hours feeling sorry for yourself.

Our mother is not our enemy, in fact, in time, she will become your best friend. I’m pretty sure you’re confused right about now and thinking ‘what the fuck is he talking about?’ (that’s another thing, don’t swear so much at such a young age, there will be more of a need for it later on), but I digress. Anyway, our mother is actually the coolest ever, so stop giving her so much of shit just because your teenage instinct is to do so. 

I know that you’re never going to get serious about your studies and quite honestly, just do what you’re doing for now, it’ll work out. Never stop being persistent, learn to appreciate the time you spend with your family and stop being so fucking dramatic about every little thing. 

Now about this love thing. As difficult as this might sound to you, you don’t fall in love with everyone you go out with. That’s just lame and you should stop saying it, you sound (in your time) like a friend that you will meet (in my time) that you will constantly have to roll your eyes at because he will remind you of you when you’re your age (does that make any sense?)

But you will fall in love, truly, madly and deeply in love and when it happens you will feel like you’ve never felt before, ever. The thing though is that it will happen at a time when you’re not ready for it, sorry dude, no one’s ever ready for it. But you’ll live, at least until where I am right now.

Say a prayer when the year 2006 begins, it’s going to be a bad one. But when it draws to a close, you will meet some exceptional people who will turn your life around in more ways than you can imagine. Don’t go looking for them though, let them find you in their own time.

Also, and this is very important, stop being so fucking judgmental. It’s irritating and it’s annoying and even though loads of people around you won’t call you on it (because they’re too busy being judgmental themselves), it’s still very uncool. Every human being has a right to be who they are and you have no right to judge them because every time you do, someone’s out there judging you. 

Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve, that allows it to be damaged easily. Don’t trust everyone you meet, you’d be surprised at the ones who turn on you (and believe you me, they WILL turn on you). Never stop following your heart because I still do. Stop being so fucking preachy about cigarettes, alcohol, marijuana and other recreational drugs, because when you get to be me you’ll basically be an alcoholic chimney who’s constantly on cloud 9.

Don’t take religion so seriously, it’s meant to guide not to dictate. I think I’ve pretty much covered it all… oh yea, there’s one thing that’s not going to change very much from then to now… you’re still a slut.

Now go to sleep and forget you ever read this letter because through every tear, heartache and moment of misery, you will learn to live, really, really live and I promise you, you’ll love it all.

With much love from you.

PS. Go easy on the hair color because we still like our natural hair, the various colors, not so much. Oh and a few days before you star in a play called ‘Hamlet at Elsie’s Bar’, you’ll have the urge to go to a salon, please don’t. Just go for rehearsals.

Last evening a little past 8pm I received three text messages from three random people in my phonebook stating the following: Dakshini, a 9yr old with blood cancer is in critical condition and her father needs 20lk for an immediate operation. All the networks in Sri Lanka have come together for this cause and decided to donate 10 cents (I repeat 10 cents) for each person you forward this message to. Please forward to at least 10 people and save little Dakshini. You will be blessed.

Idiotic as I am and having a conscience to clear, I immediately forwarded the text to ten other people on my phone book. Ten minutes later when I sat down to think about it I started to wonder why little Dakshini was getting only 10 cents off each message I sent out, which cost at least 2 rupees and 30 cents. If you round that up into say 3 rupees, I’d sent out 30 rupees worth of text messages out of which little Dakshini gets only (wait for it) a grand total of ONE RUPEE!

I then called the network to ask them about the message and the man who answered the phone on the customer care hotline was kind enough to tell me that it was a scam. A discussion then began between me and some friends as to how some sick people would go to the extent of sending out messages like this just to fuck with our heads.

But then a bigger question arises. What would any old sicko get out of sending a chain message like this one? What does he benefit from it? Wait… he doesn’t benefit anything at all (apart from the sick satisfaction that half of Colombo and then some are trying to save a non-existent cancer patient). So who benefits? The networks of course. 

So what, did they all just have a monthly revenue meeting and decide that they weren’t making enough to pay overheads? Or is someone just trying to make their Christmas bonus? 

Either way, it is sick and unethical, but who cares right? Overall I’m happy that this little girl didn’t exist because if she did, I don’t know if her father would have still been able to pay for the operation with the generous 10 cents the networks were contributing.

When I was a little boy I used to be afraid of the dark. Even when time came for me to have my own room, I seldom used it. There was something about the dark that was always so eerie and uncertain and indefinite. As I grew older, my fear of darkness melted away but then life brought along with it so much to fear.

I look around me today and I see the people around me and I sense the things that they’re most afraid of. ‘Will I lose the one I love?’ ‘Will I grow old before I do everything I’ve wanted to do?’ ‘What if I die tomorrow?’ ‘Will my children be safe when I’m not around?’ ‘What if they figure me out?’ ‘What if I get sick?’

We’re all afraid of something. We’re all fighting hard every day of our lives to make sure that our worst fears don’t come to pass. We pray. We make promises that we don’t intend to keep. We buy insurance. But does any of it really help? Isn’t there still that little voice that mouths off words of insecurity inside your head?

I’ve always tried very hard to understand fear and how it can be dealt with and then I began thinking of how children approach the subject. Like I said, when I was a child I was afraid of the dark but aside from that, there was actually nothing else (apart from my grandmother) that I was afraid of. As a child I didn’t try to understand the meaning of life and where we were going with it. I simply lived and enjoyed every day.

I think I’d much rather be afraid of the dark for no apparent reason than be afraid of all the other things we burden our adult lives with, giving each and every one of them such broad explanations so that we have more cause to fear them.

Just something that I felt like putting down… it’s true what they say you know, there’s nothing to fear but fear itself.

Spent the day with TMS yesterday and she played this song from ‘Touched by an Angel’ from an episode called the 151st Psalm. It was performed by Wynona Judd when her character Audrey has to finish this song she started writing when her son was born. She finally finishes it and sings it to her son with half the neighborhood singing backup and during the performance her son (who’s suffering from a lung disease) finally passes away. The title of the song is ‘Testify to Love’ and you should read the lyrics and listen to it whenever you have the time.

I played the song to myself over and over again today on youtube and wondered if I would be able to do the same thing. Could I testify to love for as long as I lived even when I’ve lost so much to it? I guess you could say I’m having a crisis of faith again and I’ve not had a lot of ‘me’ time to figure things out. 

Sometimes I feel like life is about loss. From the day you’re born till the day you die it’s all about loss. First you lose your innocence, then your youth, then the celebrities you grew up with, then the ones you love, then time and finally yourself. Emotions, I still maintain, are the great flaw in the grand design and if it weren’t for them, at least we’d be content. But their existence brings with them fear and confusion and anger. 

Why, in a world of so much loss, would people still want to continue loving? Why do we waste our love on people who don’t feel the same way about us? When does love run out? And then I realize that it never does. Anger goes away. Misery doesn’t last for ever. Confusion fades in the light of answers. But love stays on forever. 

I think maybe God intended it to be that way. But as human beings we grow up to be selfish with our love and we come to believe that everyone we love should love us back. We want every bit of kindness we share with the world to be given back to us. I think that’s where we go wrong. Love has no expectations. 

So will I continue testifying to love? I think I will.

she wants a life of sun and song
but she’s been high for way too long
she wants to find a way
to separate her night from day
cause she’s addicted to that
hardcore aphrodisiac

he cries and hides away his face
he knows he’s living in disgrace
he kneels again to pray
to ask for strength no more to stray
but he’s addicted to that
hardcore aphrodisiac

when they are one
they both become
two perfect parts of harmony
but when they part
then they both start
to play their own dark symphony

she’s lost in clouds of red and gold
she’s got nobody’s hand to hold
and when she’s sane again
she’ll start to feel the needless pain
she’s still addicted to that
hardcore aphrodisiac

he wakes up wondering where he is
he looks beside him and he sees
a new mistake lies dead
on his dirty satin bed
he’s still addicted to that
hardcore aphrodisiac

they try so hard
to stand on guard
but they don’t know just where to start
he wants his sin
she needs her vice
and neither wants to pay the price
to let it go
for they both know
that they’re addicted to that
hardcore aphrodisiac

brandon ingram

I’ve been tagged by thekillromeoproject… basically you write five words to describe how you feel about recent events in Sri Lanka, you tag five bloggers and forget it…

1. Thankful
2. Curious
3. Confused
4. Intrigued
5. Forgiving

And my tags are:

Missing Sandwich
Sweet Idiot
Cinderella
Electra
Daytripper

just tagging away…

Far away in a desert of sleep stood a little lost boy without any feet. He may have walked and he may have run but the ground beneath him was always numb. I’d heard them say he had no name, he spoke no words and felt no pain. But those who’d seen him would often tell of the way in which he cast his spell. He’d opened their minds to memories of their love and hope and misery. He’d held their hands and touched their eyes and kissed their lips and changed their lives.

And so it came to pass one day that in my sleep I lost my way. I found myself in that strange, strange land the one with all the golden sand. There I saw him, then I knew, all I’d heard was very true. He sat beside me, he spoke no lies, he sang no songs and he made no smiles. Through lips that stayed so very still he pecked the air and made it chilled. As the cold wind drank my blood it all came back like a gushing flood. “Remember” said the silent voice as angels cried and devils rejoiced.

Remember the words you can’t take back, the hurt they caused with your attack. Remember the hearts you broke in vain for when yours breaks it’ll lessen the pain. Remember the lies you needlessly spoke they will help you laugh when your life is a joke. Remember the truths you uttered so strong they will be your salvation when the night seems long. Remember the dead and what they’ve left behind, learn from their deeds in your own time. Remember the craving you felt in your soul and look for the pieces that will make you whole.

Remember the tears that others have shed so that you may have a better life instead. Remember the darkness, remember the light so that you may know what is wrong and right. Remember the glory and drown and its sound but when it’s all over have your feet on the ground. Remember the wisdom of those here before so that you can always tell your friend from your foe. But remember yourself above all the rest for that is what matters at the time of your test. Know your true weakness and your true strength throughout your life in all its length.

Before I knew it I’d found my way, I’d lived to see another day. The boy was gone, he was no more, a faded image along life’s road. “Remember” he’d said in muted speech and so I did as he’d beseeched. The emptiness of life was gone like the final note of an aching song. It wouldn’t be that way again not in sunshine, not in rain. For no matter where your fate is set, you must learn never to forget.

Brandon Ingram

Last night  was by far the best gathering I’ve seen at any open mic so far. I don’t know whether it was because everyone did more than read something or if it was Mariam’s breathtaking voice or the fact that Richard Simon called me the most beautiful mic stand he had seen but whatever it was, it made me smile.

We have our own take on how things are and how they should be and I think the one thing we don’t have is an audience to share these thoughts with. We’ve become so intoxicated with our own beliefs and viewpoints that now, no matter what someone else has to say, we’re not willing to listen or even if we do listen (as Shanaka said last night) we don’t hear them, because we’re probably too busy hearing ourselves.

Whether we like to admit it or not, we are a bunch of people who are strongly opinionated and I think it’s a good thing to have those opinions questioned now and again or to simply hear what someone else has to say about them. You’d be surprised at what you find out, which is why I think I liked last night’s session than some of the ones we’ve had before. People actually interacted and shared their views on someone else’s piece. I was thinking, had those pieces been blog posts, and some of them were, you’d probably have a response to each and every one of them because you’d have the time to craft your words and drive your point across clearly. You’d be able to think and re-think what you want to say and how you want to say it just to be politically correct.

But there is so much more beauty in the transfer of words that happen face to face because you don’t just read into what other people are saying, you feel them saying it, with all the emotion they carry with each word.

I really don’t know why I’m going on about this but it’s probably because I went home last night a happy-chappy knowing that if a small gathering of those who were willing to listen to each other was possible, then there might be hope for us after all.

Thank you for the experience, hope it gets better next time.

B.

The launch date has been officially changed to the 25th of June. It kicks off at 7 pm at Barefoot and anyone who wants to be there is welcome.

These past few days have been busy in the world of me and this book because the laid out copy has hit my desk and I’ve been busy making some last minute changes.

I’ve also received the first draft of the cover and even though I liked it very much I’ve decided to change it after I received Sam and Ameena’s comments.

The book will be sold at 690 LKR and it will be available for purchase at the launch. The Fairy Dance will also be on offer at the launch and if you buy both books you spend 190 rupees less.

The Fairy Dance = 500 LKR

Living Their Lie = 690 LKR

Both (launch date only) = 1000 LKR

The first chapter of the second book will be up on the ‘living their lie’ page of this blog two weeks before the launch. Keep reading and will update with more info.

B.