I just got into a mood, stripped naked, dragged a chair to our balcony in the evening
and sat in the rain...

More of that in a bit :crazy:

Monday the 30th March... I am alone at work; let me remind you fine folks that we started our own Advertising Agency and therefore the office is officially at home, which is also where our rehearsal space is. Had a late night yesterday. Tenny and myself finally downloaded and watched 'The Watchmen' and perhaps I need to go trace my roots to the comic because apart from Rorschach the other characters reminded me of some fucked up has-been club of so and so's... OK... so I am a Marvel and DC Comics kid that later evolved to Spawn, the Crow, Constantine etc., however I can appreciate the director's take on the adaptation (Zach Snyder who was responsible for "Dawn of the Dead" and "300"), 'cos it's a violent take on Americanized heroism and the nostalgia of being a patriot of one's country, one's own kind and one's self. Strangely despite certain dark undertones and a few twists and turns the movie by itself actually made me dose off towards the end of the flick... which is never a good thing.

Having said that though the stories revolving around Rorschach was intense and the dude was solidly portrayed. The Night Owl and that Silk whatever woman strongly reminded me of an ex-girl friend of mine who loved to parade from man to man, to beast to lesser men and an affair she had with the programs head of a leading radio station in Sri Lanka. So the guy (who feigned the world famous card of I am kinda gay but actually I am every woman's closest friend) is identical to Night Owl (minus the costume and I do suppose he'd look like that with the outfit too) and the dame was a reflection of my particular ex. They are a perfect pair made in radio gaa gaa land and I must be man enough to admit that yes they are two peas in a pod.

I got up early and rushed with my aunt to the bank where she had to get a cash transfer in order to sort out the payment for my marketing exam registration... so I start my home grooming, self studying charade pretty soon I imagine (with all the shit I have to shovel) 'cos the exam's in June. Let's see how that goes. So I finished the shit at the bank and I had a bizarre ride back home in the three wheeler I took because there was something wrong with it and it kept plunging to and fro like a bloody hip hopper's ride and then would abruptly stop at a color light when it was green and roar back to life when it was red. Bitter sweet sardonic as they say. Well actually they don't say... I just do.

Andrew had to put the Stig-mobile aka: the hammerhead, the jeep into the garage and so he didn't come over, he wanted to stay home and practice which is cool. Tenny was out doing some work the whole day and so pretty ole me was alone at home, with three crazy dogs and was later joined by a friend who had taken leave today. He and myself had a few shots of rum and coke and then some arrack and coke( by coke I mean Coca Cola - :roll: ) but spent most of my day doing some Band promotional stuff on line and coordinated a photo shoot and interviews for a leading publication later this week. The friend just sat bored out of his skull watching me work. What to do... it's Monday right?

Then... the skies began to pale a darker shade of gray and the clouds grew ominous and reptilian like and then the drizzles started and then flashes of lightning inside the rollin' clouds like reptiles crawling within them... and it hit me that I had not got soaked and drenched like a dog in a thunderstorm in a LONG, LONG time. It also hit me that no one really cares to get wet in the rain anymore... I mean to hell with the rain dances and the sexy stuff of rolling around in mud and letting each others tongue's coil and recoil while the thunder hammers above and the lightning whip cracks fervently. This is primordial shit that every man, woman, beast and child should appreciate.

So that's what I was gonna do then. I finished my work, shut the machine & went to the main hall, saw that the doggies were ok, a lady friend was over - she'd brought me something to eat and her expression was priceless when I told her to keep it that I was going for a shower and then started undressing in the hall. I do have some decency in me... after all one can't be a MD of a company and pull off stunts like this - I can imagine it's bad for the reputation and etc., etc., yeah... so Anyway... the dude and the lady friend were having a chat, I closed the balcony doors, grabbed a towel, took my undies off and sat on a chair while the icy drops of rain just crowned me silly. I made sure no one could see me, and despite constant accusations that I have a tendency to be an exhibitionist (which isn't completely true) I did take precautions. Of course super pup extraordinaire Nakamichchi was wondering what the F was going on and kept tilting her head sideways like 'Dude, this guy is :crazy: '

So there I was sitting butt nude in the freezing rain for awhile... hair dripping wet against my back and boy it was GOOD. At that point I didn't give a flying beetle bailey about anything... it felt good to just do that. Stupid... yeah... Crazy... yeah of course... I mean I could get sick... but what's the point of letting these precarious and odd little moments pass us by like everything that we allow to just pass us by. We let time pass us by, opportunities pass us by. And if I was to die tomorrow I'd like to imagine I'd sat in the pouring rain the day before with a middle finger extended to the organized world.

Life is pre-planned, all packaged, processed and determined by societal norms that we've all forgotten the purpose of riding a bike super fast on a long stretch of road... it isn't the power of speed... it's about the wind beating against your face. It isn't about releasing your load into the beautiful depths of a woman's alter... it's about discovering a new face of freedom and fulfillment in watching the lady drown in pleasure. It isn't about just shoving against each other in a mosh-pit and causing injury, it isn't about head banging for the world to see and spitting bits of broken teeth and blood at a concert... it's about letting the music move you, confirm and ascertain that NO, motherfucker YOU are NOT alone in your pain.

See I didn't care about the risk today... I didn't care who might see me... that the dude and the chick with shocked expressions seated inside would think things... I didn't care about my status, reputation or the inhibitions of being viewed as loony.

What's life and existence without risks anyway? And at the cost of catching a cold... or pneumonia at the worst. I would do it again. And again. All the time we find in the world for insipid, mundane shit... but never find time to just get wet in the rain anymore.

Fuck the guidelines. I wanted to get wet and I did.

What a way to start the week.

Go sit in the rain and hold your face up to the ash cinder skies, smile or frown at the clouds and let the rain crash down on your skin.

And what better soundtrack can a crazy man all the way in a tiny island in the Indian Ocean ask for than the pounding growls of thunder and the whiplash of blinding lightning?

:>