Dennis Roobarro

Post for 2010

2010-11-17T00:22:00.000-08:00

I just had to make an entry for 2010. However, I might add something more.

Should I continue?

2009-09-07T21:59:00.000-07:00

The drizzle picked up, I was still a good half an hour away from home. "Good job on driving to work today pal", I patted myself on the back. And then she flashed through my thoughts. Oh, how I hated that feeling. It started in my guts and rose up to my throat, it seemed to stop my heart on the way, my lungs felt like they were collapsing from the sheer weight of my shoulders. I switched lanes, No use dying in the fast lane on a Friday night. Bad Karma, I believed in it. That feeling kept building; it shot past my throat and went straight to my head. I felt my brain turn to stew, my head was going to explode, my ears were burning, and her name escaped my lips. I drew in a large breath, and then I sighed.
I kept driving, paying attention to the road ahead. I tried not to think of anything. But she was in my thoughts, her face, her eyes, her smell, her smile and I felt myself smiling. I couldn't help it, that smile it made me calm down, it emptied me of everything, and yet I could live on nothing but that smile itself; her smile how I longed for it. I yearned for it, every morning I woke up with the thought of seeing that smile again.
I had calmed down, the storm was approaching, but I was going to beat it home. I was thinking would I ever tell her, and if I did what would I say. There was a song on the radio it made sense to me:
I think I love you, so what am I so afraid of?
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
A love there is no cure for
I think I love you.................................

Believe me; you really don’t have to worry
I only want to make you happy
And if you say "Hey! Go away” I will
But I think I better still
I'd better stay around and love you
Do you think I have a case?
Let me ask to your face
Do you think you love me?
I laughed. I laughed so heartily, I hadn't laughed like that for a long time. Those lyrics, those words, they seemed to have my thoughts set in tune. Oh how I wished she were there with me.
What was I going to do? Tell her? No, I didn't know what happens after that. If I had a case well then I would dance and flip and be a complete maniac. All my fears, my confounding self-deliberations that last for days at a time would end. Oh! Peace, Oh! Serenity, Oh! Love be mine, be mine. But then what if it wasn't to be. Would I just stop? Could I stop? Was there a cure for this sickness that I had succumbed to? I did not know and that annoyed me even more than the fact that I didn't really have a case to help win her over.
I was after all nothing more than a simple peasant with a few good tastes; she on the other hand was a princess. Her beauty, her grace, her persona, they were all perfect. How dare I compare myself to her, I was a monster to look at, and humour was the only card I held. I had learnt young to laugh at myself and to laugh at life as it were.
I reached home just as the storm hit. I closed my door and sighed at the thought of the dreary weekend ahead. My weekends were lifeless; they were like a river run dry in the summer. And the desolate landscape of my room did not help in the slightest, a bed and a window that looked out to a wall was not the most inspiring backdrop. I lay down on my bed and gazed at the ceiling, lightning lit up the whole room, and the crash of thunder was drowned by the crash of cascading rain on my metal roof. I looked outside, the twilight was quickly fading, and being replaced by a salmon sky, the lightning was now distant and the rain made a translucent curtain between my window and brown wall it overlooked. I disregarded the fleeting thought of making myself dinner. I listened to the rain, it was strangely calming. My bed was warm and the roof above me did not leak, and the thought of not being stranded in the rain gave me a little hope for the weekend. I loved the rain, with its terrific lightning and booming crashes of thunder, it took me back to a place in my childhood. Sitting at home, listening to grandpa's war stories, and watching the stew slowly simmering on the kerosene stove, now none of that world existed. In its place lay the everyday humdrum of adulthood along with its rat race and many prerogative vices.
The darkness around kept growing and the ceiling was slowly disappearing from my view in its place I could see the fuzzy picture of the road that ran outside the window of my room from my childhood. The rain was pelting down, it was the peak of the monsoon season, and schools had been closed till the storm had passed. The traffic on the road was slow, the rainwater drains were not coping with the volume of precipitation and flooding, the little streams were now turning into gurgling rivers, and the number of paper boats floating downstream had suddenly doubled. I ran down the stairs, grabbing one of my old notebooks with me, I was going to join the fun and command my own fleet of paper ships. I was half way down the stairs when the power cut, I reached the bottom, and I could hear what sounded like a waterfall in the kitchen. The whole house was in darkness and all I could see were dampened shadows of the furniture and the dull reflection of the glassware on my grandmother's china hutch. I could hear my grandfather's voice booming in the kitchen, my eyes had grown accustomed to the dark and I moved in the direction of his voice. I inched my way across the dining room and turned the corner to find my grandparents standing together with the biggest grimaces they could wear. I looked in the direction they were looking at, and I saw the light.
It was coming through a hole in the rainwater piping that was coming down from the terrace, the top of the pipe had burst and the water was falling a good ten feet on to the cemented floor below. The kitchen was in the eastern wing of the house, and was connected to the dinning room and the front veranda by a passage; we chose to call the veranda as well. The water was rising quickly and would soon flood the kitchen, I looked at my grandpa, he could fix this, he always did. He walked towards the water, it was scary to a six year old, but certainly not a world war two veteran. He waded in the water, the broken spout gushed water on to his head and his shoulders, his white hair was now flat against his scalp and he was completely drenched. He opened up the rainwater drain cover and let the water run out, then he looked up at me and behind his thick black rimmed glasses I could see it begin. Then almost in an instant his face broken into a hundred different lines as his weather beaten skin wrinkled to form a wry smile, I smiled back. I didn’t think much of it then, but now world weary myself I think perhaps it caused some meagre satisfaction in his old age to have saved the day, and be looked upon with such awe by his grandson.
The rain continued for what seemed like the rest of the weekend, either that was the truth or the excuse for my laundry still sitting in a heap in the corner of my bathroom. Nevertheless, it was a weekend I was going to remember for a long time, not because of the storm, but what had occurred on Sunday evening. The worst of the storm had passed and I decided to venture down to the local shops. I was hoping to find some dinner and stock up on some groceries that I could use during the week. I walked past a few diners on Queen Street; many of the usually bustling venues were dead with many of the patrons choosing to stay in from the rains. Some of the restaurants, were only half lit, such was the depressing state of affairs after the storm. Perhaps I was the only person on the street with a smile on my face. I had now walked in excess of four kilometres from my home and my appetite was now past the point of ravenous. I was just trying to make up my mind on where I should go for dinner, perhaps a steak dinner at the local bar, or something from the array of Asian cuisines on offer along the length of High street.

I'm sick, but I feel so good.

2008-08-11T20:07:00.001-07:00

There’s voices in my head
They tell me I’m so dead
But because I sing a long
To the tune of their own song
So they let me be for now. At least.
But when the levee breaks
It will come underdone, tears
Frozen by the lonely one.

Veiled in white they pass me by
Twenty four lines - my watch is done
Over the hills now comes the sun
Burn me brother, burn me bright
This night has been a marish fright
The lingering sobs, the bloodshot eyes
The fear of loss before it dawns,
My heart it beats with what? I know not
Vengeance, love, jealousy, perhaps?
No it’s better
Its honour, its hope of better things yet.
The future it holds many regrets, just
One of many will this one be, the
Price of friendship is no match to beat.

Yesterday all my troubles seemed so ♪♪♪

2008-01-30T16:19:00.000-08:00

its a rather slow day.... not so much cos i did not
have much sleep... but more so due to some
conflicting thoughts in my head.
Got some time to chat to shorty after ages. Actually
the whole of yesterday was mostly catching up with
my best friends from different stages in my life.
Funny that, i have been able to trace back my
contacts to primary school but still haven't got word
of the friend Pradeep. The many summer nights we
spent together, thinking up mischeif for the next
day brings me fond memories and a feeling of
warmth. Hopefully I'll find a way to get in touch this year...

Oogly? what is that Oogli?

2008-01-29T17:33:00.000-08:00

Ugliness personified.....that is me......
so if you have children to scare.... please dont call me. But a picture of me should do the job just fine...
I wonder if there any special jobs for ugly people...i'd be famous!! 8-)
anyone if your reading my blog.... please please... give me a chance. I'll be the ugliest ugliest person on earth... you can even kill me for being so ugly.... that is ofcourse if you are still alive after beholding the ugly.

A new Year

2008-01-29T14:45:00.000-08:00

It’s a sad start today... why?
Don’t ask, 'cos I don’t know.

Well let’s have a look at all the good things around I can elicit some form of happiness from......

* tried to teach Zach "P" language. Mixed results but mostly fun.
* Almost had the grace of the goddess bestowed on me. I like things the way they are.... but.
* Made a new friend - Karen. She’s got funny eyebrows, ^_^.
* Meenie and I formed a pact to remain friends’ thro good and bad. Hope she keeps it....: P (kidding!)
* Feeling better already!! Yay!

2007-12-07T02:20:00.001-08:00

hahahahahahahhheheheheheheheheh!!!!

no I'm not happy! i just needed to get that outta my system.

RE: post tRUST
:P at the person who knows its for them....

I have none :(

2007-12-06T11:58:00.000-08:00

confidence...
where does that come from?

a good deodrant or a gigantic big Mac sized Super-Ego....

i dont have either.... :(

tRUST

2007-12-06T11:49:00.000-08:00

Does she deserve it?
I dont know..... I dont even know anything about her... and somehow
i feel obliged to let her in to the secret sanctuary.

Perhaps she is yet another perpetual liar, who often seem to gravitate
towards me. Why?
that is a question i have often feared to ask myself.

Maybe, just maybe i'm the world's most Gullible cynic. The trouble is the midst of
all my sarcasm and self taught cynism i hope for the best.

Well hope, isn't it the bane on what humanity is built?

Rapid round aint around but who knows

2007-10-31T04:40:00.000-07:00

hehehe.....
wudnt meena be proud!!

well a short period of peace at work, a first and hopefully not the last.
I guess as usual I've got something to get of my chest.
Ever had a time in ur life when you wanted something so bad, you scared yourself about how badly you wanted it.

For the first time in my life, my fear of myslef has led me to cease to function as myself.
and for those of you who haven't got a clue what I'm on about, Its the ice melt...
Spring! is in the air and christmas is around the corner, and I'm feeling guilty of dismissing that
great season of cheer for a commercial racket. But now I see how in the dreary mundane existance of the
average office goer, the seasons have such a dramatic impact on the quality of their lives. Many a time when
I dismissed my parents attempts at cheering me up wid their christmas spirit, for mere corporate slavery, I now regret having
fallen victim to the burden of the same yoke.

But there is now something better, something greater, a feeling that transcends anything and everything I have ever felt before.
Its exhilariting, its enthralling, its captivating and yet its driving me nuts............

what can I say, I'm not insane...... but definitely mad.... :(

ah ha!

2007-10-31T04:37:00.000-07:00

Isnt it funny how a simple statistic can turn a good day BAD!

I have fallen victim to such a stat. That below average grade point that
distinguished me as a second rate individual has returned to hound me.
Gone were the days were I would be labelled as a number, thought I when I shed
the shackles of blue and white as I shook hands with the the adversary of my youth.
We both sensed a mutual relief, but we also were happy to acknowledge that life was
just a little less mundane in each others cross-hairs. My head-mistress was a woman of
great character and even greater rigidity. She was a woman of tremendous concentration and
few ideas, and was never once pulled away from the cause of the greater good. She led the school
through the most controversial period of its short history, and spending many a afternoon in her company
instilled in me a certain respect and admiration for this woman. But now I'll return to the story of the now and
save the many misadventures of my schooling for a more dreary Sunday afternoon.

Now coming back to the stat! I have just recieved my first appraisal (didnt that word send shivers done your spine).
AH! the irony of it all, leaving behind the high walls of the institution meant to ready us for a life of greatness and opportunity,
and take on the world where many a name was made. Battle ready and trigger happy we were arrayed to charge into an onslaught
and lay seige to our destiny. And alas! there it arose out of the great din of the commercial mayhem, a number that will label me as
nothing but a simple pawn. One day I might be a general, but the road to greatness is a long one, and my reckless charge has cost me
my noble steed and many a good friend. Some to the battle itself, and some to the greatness of their own. But now I am charged as nothing
more than the soldier, I soldier on to redeem myself and have lifted from my neck that yoke of doubt cast upon me by callous protocol of corporate
procedure. But perhaps all I have to help me proceed is the optimists creed and delusionary vision of a megalomaniac to drive me on. Or perhaps
there is a reason more spirited that my hopes have risen in the last 24 hrs....

2007-09-25T23:43:00.000-07:00

The mirror shattered. That sound! That horrible sound, it was louder than anything I had or have ever heard; but still I can’t remember that sound. As it floods my memories with titanic crash, I remember my reflection in the mirror as my fist flew towards it.
My face, my eyes… oh that feeling… as my mother mirror shattered was like my stomach had instantaneously digested itself and now lunged at my heart. Those thoughts… fears. Those nine years of bad luck that were to follow, a penance I am still paying for today.
I could not take it, all that hatred for myself, had vanished. It was as though the demon I sought to injure had been released, and suddenly gotten stronger. He was now free of the confines of the one mirror, and smiled back at me from the many pieces that now lay in front of me.

Blah Blah blah...... and some more Blahs!!!

2007-09-25T23:28:00.000-07:00

That's all my life seems to be filled up these days. Apart from the occassional ray of sunshine that drifts into my weary cell in the form of an old friend, there is that moonbeam that strikes my pillow. I have to say that intially I did not quite like the moon beam, she was uninvited and always disturbed my sleep. But I guess with time, I have grown accostumed to her presence and now even look forward to her arrival.

The next few posts were random thoughts inspired by Orkut

2007-06-17T19:25:00.000-07:00

Yes someone stole my heart and smashed into a million pieces...

and when i went to ask for it back, she threw it into the wind...

and she stabbed my soul, with a thousand twisted daggers of lies...

and when i thought i would be left to die, she laughed and scorned my woes...

and now i live, with the last of my breath, to forget the love my heart once knew,

to die in the cold abyss of dark, where the voice of a friend will not record.

Here are some entries from my journal.... the dates have been left out cos I didn't wanna post them.

2007-06-17T19:22:00.000-07:00

It was the 11 of Jan, summer in New Zealand was at its highest.I sat on the steps of my college, waiting for the lecturer to arrive.I was pondering the necessity of the lecture on "suicidal tendency - the last stand against an insane world", in my quest to graduate as a psychologist.I looked around me, the sun was setting, the time was 5.30, but it wouldn’t be dark until around nine. The were three girls smoking to my right, all from of them Goths, one of them had Mudvayne blaring through her head phones, but still managed to be part of the conversation with the other two.I leaned in and just about got the last words of the conversation, "I hate that F@k*r, next time I see him...I’m gonna twist his head off". I smirked to myself imagining the poor fate of some guy in the near future.Just then a rather pleasant, welcome and familiar voice chimed beside me. It was Kelly, red-headed, strong willed and charmingly boyish, she would have fit in perfectly with the Goths."Hey dude, got a fag?” I never smoked, but never said no to offer of a cigarette, so i often had a spare for a friend in need.I handed Kelly the cig, she popped it in her a mouth lit up and blew the smoke in my face. "Thank you", i reminded her. She smiled, drew closer and gave me a light peck on the cheek, and said "happy?"It was the song blaring out of the Goth’s headphones, who I realised, was looking at us. I offered her a smile, she gave me the finger. Ironically my smile only grew wider, as my attention shifted back to Kelly. The sun was shining into her clear brown eyes and wind tossed her remarkably straight red hair, as she blew the smoke into the wind, she looked like the coolest girl in the world.As I sat there, awed i didn’t realise that she had noticed. She asked me rather coyly, "Are you falling in love?"The question took me by surprise. I knew Kelly for three years, and this was our sophomore year at uni, but I had never thought of Kelly as more than a friend.
So I just squinted at her and looked into the distance, life had taught me better than to say something when I wasn’t sure. She was still looking at me, when she offered me the cigarette back. I didn’t hesitate for a second, as I pulled in, the woody aroma filled my brain, and the smoke hit my lungs. There was no irritation, no sudden high – it just felt right. Me in that moment, with the cig in my hand and my friend next to me sitting in orange twilight, I felt like the coolest guy in the world. That was my first cigarette – the first time I felt that sense of ecstasy in the calmness of the moment.

My First Post

2007-06-07T17:24:00.000-07:00

What should my first post be about?

It should be bold, out there and announce to world my arrival, but it should also be friendly, warm and tell a story of one that is yet to come.....

I guess I'll leave it at this for now....