Insight

I love music so much that i absolutely hate it when I do not enjoy it. I’ve enjoyed listening to songs in languages which I will never comprehend, but I hate it when the song is composed as a jumble of retarded tones. Of late thanks to a large crowd of people from a neighborly state I am getting used to many songs that do not rhyme right, do not sound good and that do manage to increase my blood pressure. The concept of Keyboard beats. Yes they do sound good on your Contra video game, but why does it have to be on a full length video song where the hero vigorously shakes his hips is what I do not understand. Then there are rip offs, if they had been faithful to the original it would have been some justice, but attempts to modernize it with hype beats and jingles does make it a very painful exercise for your ear drum. The worst part is when you have the idiots sing along. DO THEY EVER REALIZE THEY SOUND WORSE THAN A FREAKING CROW? I need Advise folks, need to survive this.

Life has been hectic. So hectic that I keep thinking about work at the GYM or even while watching a movie, I was so engrossed about the tasks that I had to for the day that I never noticed my roommate stop at the nearby motel. He asked me to wait downstairs while he went to meet a friend.   I tried to take my mind of work and started to gaze around. I saw two birds, one inside the hotel's reception and the other outside in the parking lot. I was intrigued by the chirping and started to visualize what the conversation could have been about. I thought the bird in the hotel was a bit arrogant and trying to show off some tricks of a ladder and kept chirping loudly. The second bird looked on silently and hopped to the window, it had been trying to nibble at a few crumbs that was thrown to it by passer by’s. The first bird did something that resembled a maniacal laugh and started to show off its prize possessions: the toys, the pipe that fed water when it wanted, the plate full of breadc...

No matter how many sky miles you have clocked, every time you cross the Atlantic there is a small voice in your head that screams its head off. Well mine did, and I found the best way to fight it. Of the 30 hours that I was stuck in the tube with flashy air hostess I slept for 24. And as always at the airport on entry the customary Immigration questions were followed by a secondary check and special interview with United States customs, I do not know what these guys have against me, but every time I come here I am like stripped to the bone, or refused a visa. I had to cross the Atlantic, clear 2 immigration checks to blog about life at Covington, a small town in the state of Louisiana. It’s been about twenty days here. For starters the place resembles towns in the psycho films which has the most devious minds around. Everything is too quiet that I can hear my own breath at times. Everybody whom I meet smile, I do not know why they do that and have the customary greeting “How are you to...