FUCK YOU

My all time favorite monologue , from 25th hour:

Fuck me, fuck you, fuck this whole city and everyone in it. 

Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back.
Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job! 

Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training! Slow the fuck DOWN! 

Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. 

Fuck the Ko-rean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country – still no speakee English? 

Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'…go back where you fucking came from! 

Fuck the black-hatted Hassidim, strolling up and down 47th Street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! 

Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe, Michael Douglas, GordonGekko wannabe motherfuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for fucking life! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Worldcom! 

Fuck the Puerto Ricans. Twenty to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good.

Fuck the Benson-Hurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for ‘The Sopranos.’

Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart! 

Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago – move the fuck on!

Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus-violating plungers and their forty-one shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! 

Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. 

And while you're at it: Fuck JC! He got off easy…a day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville, J!

Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fueled fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass!

Fuck Jacob Elinsky. Whining malcontent. 

Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery, my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. 

Fuck Naturelle Riviera. I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river. Fucking bitch! 

Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, cheering the Bronx bombers. 

Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split-levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place… 

No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and you threw it away, you dumb FUCK!”

PS:   To all the dumb fucks, Fuck You !!!!

A fine balance

I fell down on the floor with blood oozing out of my mouth. A fading image of a man was calling for an ambulance while the rest of the people were watching me.I was put on a stretcher and carried into the ambulance.The pattern of honking sound  of the horn of ambulance was making me dizzy and I was loosing consciousness.


I was sure that It was my last day and started with a thought of rewinding my life from the start. The people I loved, the things I did, the gratitude I owed to people, the mistakes I did, the bitter things, the things I always wanted to do, but never did.


I  felt grateful to my parents to have done so many sacrifices which I didn't acknowledge well till late.I felt great for the friends I had ,who loved me , cherished few of the good experiences with them, the trips , the   weed, alcohol, Goa, strip clubs , the cafes  with tea and smoke, the mistakes I had done to few of them, and the mistakes few have done to me. Its always a fine balance.One thing balances over the other in one or the other way. 


I felt a sudden pain at my arm and tilted my head with all my energy.A nurse was injecting syringe into my arm with antibiotics.I tried remembering my next phase of lyfe and saw it unending.My lyfe will not be coming to an end without her, I thought.The time I spent with her was sheer bliss , I thought.The talks we had, the intimacy we had,the places we went to,I remembered all of them.I have had a photograph of all the moments with her in my mind.The first kiss with her, the first trip with her, the face of her brought a smile on my face , though smiling with a blood oozing around was painful, I took an effort to stretch my muscles.


There were sudden changes in our lives.After our studies, she was posted in a different city I was in.I was a Brahman where as she was catholic christian.She was getting married and I couldn't have imagined my lyfe without her.


Once the image of her faded in my mind, I felt unconscious, but some people were trying to bring me to consciousness. It was my mom, and dad who were crying and at the same time pushing me to be awake.I tried my best, but what best It could have been to my ill-fate.I was not in my control.I saw my best friend along with my parents and felt  relieved.I felt at that moment , that I can live my lyfe for these three people.I made up my mind in few seconds.I want to live.I have done a crazy fucked up thing of giving my lyfe for a girl  who is not even here. I agree that its not a mistake of her,but lyfe isn't that worthless to give it up.There are many things to live the lyfe for, and make a meaning out of it.It finally ends up being a fine balance.Happy with  the sad, good with the bad.I passed out in few seconds.


I was lucky to have lost few bones  and didn't had serious injuries after jumping from 7th floor.It took three months for me to recover and during these three months , I discovered love of my parents and friends.


It always ends in a fine balance.

Confession

Sometimes It feels so good to confess your mistakes  and get things back to the way they were initially.It  is the best feeling one can have.Being stubborn on certain things might make you feel better in short term but long term reflections of being stubborn doesn't fetch  a good feeling. 


Relations are especially a sensitive thing to handle. The art of handling it is a learning which continuously evolves over the time.The negative feeling towards a relationship is not a great thing to have to oneself.It makes a bad person of you which you are not actually by nature.


Lyfe is about being good, doing good and living it to the fullest.It should encompass about what you want to do and nail it finally, and while nailing it, the feeling should be accompanied, cherished and spent along with your close ones.


PS: reminds me of a beautiful movie, "Its a wonderful Lyfe"