Airport

I stand here and watch life
Float by me
Teach me naught?

Meeting folks parting
Two of the fairer
From land across the beyond
Send smoke spiraling

The one with the little man
Not under control
Can’t seem to keep eyes off
The watcher watching turns voyeur

Two that are one
What is the story there?
The watcher yearns to know
Edges closer but still no clue

Friend turns up in black
Happy they are again
Then the much-awaited wave

Closer to the glass doors go
A final shake
Before the image again turns vision

Dogs-Roger Waters

Floyd lyrics dedicated to those who behave like dogs. That's what my friend said when he first forwarded me the lyrics. I had heard the album coupla times previously but had never actually paid attention to the lyrics. That happens quite often. Sometimes it's the music that you love sometimes the lyrics. But with floyd you tend to fall in love with both the music as well as the lyrics.

One reason why I love Floyd is their ability to put my thoughts into words, and what makes it even better is their own unique style of music that seems to pull some chords within you. When alone in your dark room Floyd has the ability to soothe rattled nerves.
Well you can read the lyrics below to get an idea about why I posted it here though it's available all over the Net.



You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you’re on the street
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking.

And after a while, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye, and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you
You’ll get the chance to put the knife in.

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder
You know it’s going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you get older
And in the end you’ll pack, fly down south
Hide your head in the sand
Just another sad old man
All alone and dying of cancer.

And when you loose control, you’ll reap the harvest that you’ve sown
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone
And it’s too late to loose the weight you used to need to throw around
So have a good drown, as you go down alone
Dragged down by the stone.

I gotta admit that I’m a little bit confused
Sometimes it seems to me as if I’m just being used
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake of this creeping malaise
If I don’t stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this maze?

Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone’s expendable and no-one had a real friend
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner
And you believe at heart, everyone’s a killer.

Who was born in a house full of pain
Who was trained not to spit in the fan
Who was told what to do by the man
Who was broken by trained personnel
Who was fitted with collar and chain
Who was given a seat in the stand
Who was breaking away from the pack
Who was only a stranger at home
Who was ground down in the end
Who was found dead on the phone
Who was dragged down by the stone.

Why???

Now why am I beginning something, which am not sure of ever continuing. I had begun keeping a diary last year, but somewhere down the line it became a bi-monthly affair. But am proud of the fact that I did take it up again towards the end of the year. This year I decided to continue the habit. But the situation seems worse than last year.

Even blogging is nothing new. The service I had subscribed to earlier saw only a single post from me, and that a poem not written by me. Do I have a problem writing down thoughts??? Well, no. I don't think that is the problem. I remember filling pages after pages when I was in college and school days were even better.

And it's not that I have stopped thinking. Maybe, the thoughts are no longer original or maybe it's because I have realized a thousand others have already thought that much before I even was. Or maybe I just don't want others to read my opinion. Am I scared of something? I honestly don't know!! Or maybe am plain lazy! Well, I think it's a combination of all the factors mentioned above.

Now that I have admitted the problem to myself, I think I will make an effort to overcome the block. I have seen friends who started blogging undergo a dramatic change. Within a few months their writing style imrpoved for the better. Some of the posts I read came as a surprise cos I never knew they could write so well or think so deep. I think blogging does free up your writing style. This is the only place where you can write what you want to write without bothering about deadlines and punctuation and grammar and the quality of content.

And since I feel writing about business and technology has kind of circumscribed my style and my thinking it's about time to explore the possibilities of getting out of the rut. And so blogging...