Of passing time...

Alo! I have been around and I have been about, but yeah I haven't been close to blogging for some time now. It sometimes is amusing, like someone on a bus, to watch the world go by you, talking back, occasionally talking "black", but talking mostly.I did the same, watching all of you coming over, liking what I wrote, disliking it, thinking that I was totally whack and the types.
I liked all of it. Really!!:)

And what have I been up to? I have been a part of a weekend night out where we talked in and out about real ghost stories, and quite a bit of reading. There has been writing too, two stories actually, but they will be coming up later in the blog. There was another thing that I wanted to talk about to all those guys who read the gibberish from time to time. A lot of you probably think that I am some strange demented guy who eats frogs and lurks around alleys with a laptop, turning happy children stories and rhymes into works of horror. Sorry to disappoint, but then, however much I wish, I am not exactly a person fitting the above picture. I am just another guy, going clackety-clackety in my office and trying to fight out the mean world. Why I like horror is another story.
Everyone loves romance. Everyone loves mush. Everyone always hopes that there would be this killer place where there would be tons of dough and lavish cars and life would be like "Cribs". But alas, that's not the case it seems. There is always an anti thesis to everything good that has existed or will ever exist. There will always be the shadow behind your door at night waiting to jump at you. There will always be the wisp of air that brushes your cheek when you least expect it. There will always be the times when your hands turn cold and you don't know why. Mostly you would choose to ignore it, or turn it into a goth poem saying

"when the dark night lay weeping
I felt Satan's breath upon my shoulders..."

Maybe I shouldn't do poetry because I suck at it. But stories which make the hair at the back of your neck stand up, that I would do. As for the purists, I love the nursery rhymes and stories as much as anyone else. My intention remains honest; making tales that make you do a little more than just grin. And also do tales that would make you fall off laughing. I would do tales.

And I would do them just for you.

Sach tagged me to do a tag which seems interesting.She wanted me to do the tag under the pretext of trying to know"Just what kind of books do weirdos read". I will pretend to ignore it and do the tag instead!!:)

She wanted me to quote some favourite lines from some of the books I have read. I am doing a Stephen King special here because he remains my favourite author. Here are a few quotes:

IT:
"You cant be careful on a skateboard man!"
"In vain he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts" - Bill Denborough at various stages in It.
"The magic exists" - Stephen King, Dedication to IT
"You don't f**k around with the infinite."

Pet Semetary (the latest)
"Sometimes, dead is bettah" - Jud Crandall

"The soil of a man's heart is stonier [...] A man grows what he can... and he tends it" - Jud Crandall, Chapter 22 (near end) .

Needful Things(my first Stephen King novel)

"The trust of the innocent is the liar's most useful tool."

Christine

"If being a kid is about learning how to live, then being a grown-up is about learning how to die."


Misery

"Can I? Yeah. You bet I can. There's a million things in this world I can't do. Couldn't hit a curveball, even back in high school. Can't fix a leaky faucet. Can't roller skate or make a F-chord on the guitar that sounds like anything but shit. I have tried twice to be married and couldn't do it either time. But if you want me to take you away, to scare you or involve you or make you cry or grin, yeah. I can. I can bring it to you and keep bringing it until you holler uncle. I am able. I can." - Paul Sheldon, Misery Part 2, chapter 4.

That's that, a list of quotes that I could find. The tag is open for everyone.This is one last that goes out to all the people who think that my writings are "weird".Its in the words of Mr. King himself:

"People think that I must be a very strange person.This is not correct.I have the heart of a small boy.It is in a glass jar on my desk..."

Laters.