Black & White

There’s a black me. There’s a white me.

There’s also a white you and a black you, isn’t there? There is a black and white to everyone.

The white is for everyone to see, for small talk and school and business meetings. The white is everywhere. That’s all you see. That’s all there is supposed to be. Different shades of white. Yellowish white, grayish white, milk-white, steel-white, old white, fresh white. 6 billion shades on the face of this planet, and all must be in white. There must be diversity, there must be unique marks and differentness in colour. There must be strata and groups, and all of this must be in white alone. There’s white flowing between people, whiteness changing shades. Eskimos have 11 words for white. You see a thousand different whites doing a million different white things all around you, and there’s no confirmation from anywhere that there’s any black at all. You look at this for some time, then you take the hint and you become white for all practical purposes.

The black is not allowed to come out of the dark interiors of the skull. You’re not sure where it belongs, although amid this white-cloaked exteriors, there were some oblique clues in a few places that the black is disapproved. It just never was authorized. But the black won’t just go away, will it? You wonder how to get rid of it, where to put it down, and it’s just hard. The black writhes and swirls inside you and sometimes makes you do things. But you’ve embraced white so hard. Whenever you embrace too hard, you do it with your eyes closed. That’s what you have done. You have clasped your arms around white and you hold on, and you stomp down the black and fill yourself with white, trying to be a shade of white, your own unique shade, although you don’t have many colours to choose from. And your ‘white for all practical purposes’ self tries to simply get rid of the things that the blackness sometimes makes you do. You create mental blocks, and rules and private rituals, but sometimes you look for some blackness beneath the white all around you.

But mostly you try to be white, and think of the black in you as something you didn’t mean, and since you actually fail to explain it in more concrete terms, you try to send those thoughts to exile. If they go away, you’re lucky. You’re established. You can be your own shade of white in this white world, and send, receive and channel whiteness.

But if they won’t go you look for secrecy. You give up being white and try to justify being a little black, then being a little darker, a little more, till you are so black you can’t turn back and no longer have the courage to hope that you can blend in amid the whiteness again. Your ‘white for all practical purposes’ self erodes to a rudimentary thin external skin of white, in poster colour shades this time, for the sake of itself. You radiate a necessary whiteness but nothing more. You become black, and get further and further into it, unnecessarily, deliberately, forcefully getting rid of any remaining whiteness in you, because the Primal Condition was that black and white may not co-exist. That a thing is either white, or black. It had better be white, but there’s never any grey. You see it everywhere. In movies and books which are most popular. Either he’s a black guy or a white guy. If some want to make a difference by introducing a grey guy, it’s only to take you close to him in such a way that you finally like him, and you brain acknowledges him as being actually white.

Anyway, in your black world, chances are that you’re not at peace.

You’ve never heard of any justification for black, so you can’t find anything to justify yourself now, because you have become mostly black. And then you can do nasty things. Either to yourself or to others. If you do things to yourself, no one cares. If you do nasty stuff to others, you spill some black onto this white-coated world and it gets everyone’s attention and no one’s comfortable with it because it’s so prominent and loud and eye-catching against all the white. This is why there are procedures to prevent this spillage, to cover it up with white.

If you’re at peace in your black world, it means you’ve found justification for it. That directly implies that you have found the justification for white, too, because only a person who can justify black can justify white. And your world isn’t just black any more. You live in grey, and there are no clefts, no sharp boundaries between black and white. And you’ve done something rare. I have nothing more to tell you then.

And you realize that a world of just one colour must necessarily be without meaningful justification for that colour, because meaningful justification for one colour is nothing but the meaningful justification for the diversity of colours, which at one stroke justifies both black and white, and even other colours, which you haven’t seen.

This world of white is, therefore, a blind embrace. So fiercely must you cling that you must keep your eyes closed and not see what actually you’re clinging to. You’re clinging to opacity, to brilliance and light and surface. What you’ve given up is the darkness that comes with depth, that comes with invaluable emptiness and silence, that comes with the end, that comes with the Primal Void, the Circle, the principle that has built Everything.

This society tells you to avoid black. It is taboo. If you can’t avoid it, you are to be taken to secure facilities and concealed under white.

That’s still okay. We have measures for that. The only thing we have no measures for is the mixture of black and white. So please, please, keep them away from each other and sharply defined. There is to be no grey.

This is what makes us divide and go either into white (which is preferred) or into black. This is what makes us want to get rid of black if we are mostly white, or get rid of white if we are mostly black. This is what makes us want to drive at white in the first place. It’s not meaningful.

Keep your black. Just don’t tell anyone if you think there might be trouble. Keep it there. It’s all around, simmering, bubbling beneath the white.

And since there’s no justification for it and it still exists, it’s sort of more powerful than the white which leans on approval and authorization for its support. Black is everywhere. Everyone has it. One who admits to having it is stronger than one who has embraced white blindly. White people are stronger than black people because that’s the way the society is wired, but the universe, well, the universe is wired in such a way that greys are the strongest, because the universe is itself grey.

Keep your black. I’m telling you this because I worry about black more than about white. Keep it. And don’t isolate them. They’re grey, together.

Once you’ve done that, maybe you’ll find other colours that are neither black nor white, and haven’t been defined. It’ll be great. But please, please, once you find them, don’t try to make them black or white. Add it to the grey. It’ll look good. I hope you’ll be wise enough then not to make the mistake we’ve already made once.



it’s been a long time

to justify

why the answers have

not yet come by

a speeding train

a passing world

pieces and pictures

flashing by

a sunlit field

a dark foothill

a blood-red sky

that says good bye

open my eyes

blinding white

cages and rules

and things to do

without asking why


without asking why

look through a hole

someone else’s eyes

a lifelong tv show

i hunt, i search

in my dark skull

i watch your faces

drifting by

nobody knows

and nobody cares

i can tell every time

i look at these stares

i hunt, i search

in my dark skull

i don’t find any clue

whether i’m supposed to

be like you


days shall fly

time go by

each day a picture

flashing by

sunlit grass, dark foothill

evening blue and rainy greys

and joints shall pain

skin cells die

these faces i see

may wave good bye

and i would have been

given so much time

too much to justify

why the answers could

never come by


Spam 2

This is the sequel to Spam. The second of the series. I’ll keep you posted if any more come by.


Savings from

Shell wait, Alayne said. She has to wait. smile, pointed nose,
and bristly orange hair. Particularly around louts like us. They should
be thralls, or salt wives, Victarion complained. There is that as well,
agreed the queen. Only a blind man could fail to see our war is all but

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It’s funny how, from time to time, you can snip off a huge chunk of your life that’s been trailing behind you towards the past end for some time, and let it drift away, so you can be a little more weightless while walking forward. Like an iceberg breaking off from time to time. You can watch the pieces that have floated away, but never actually get them back. Not funny. It’s not funny at all. It’s actually a little sad, I think.

I, for example, have packed my latest detached piece of life partly inside an orange and white packet in my cupboard and partly inside a folder in my computer. Something makes me open the cupboard and stare at the packet sometimes, switching momentarily to being a second person, looking at myself and wondering what I’m thinking about, whether I’m thinking the things that people in these situations are supposed to thing. What do they think? Are there socially approved lines along which such people are supposed to think?
Something made me open the folder today. A lot of chat logs. It was surprising that I’d been able to bury so much amount of my past. Saw a few photos. Fear. It’s funny how you once endow such things with destiny and providence and other stuff like the ones Paulo Coelho always shouts about. And then you see it’s no longer so.

I guess when you are trapped in a circular, spiraling maze like this all the time, the only way out is to sometimes think it’s funny. The conservation of mass and energy is a cruel hint of the circular, pointless nature of everything. Why don’t the scientists get it? Why are they so dumb?

Look, hey, let me tell you something. I’m a weird being. I don’t miss my past as much as I ought to, and I worry about that. And I’m always guilty that I’ve let myself forget my childhood, my old friends. For the little time we’re here, I guess we all try to embrace life as hard as we can. It’s because we don’t know where we were before we first opened our eyes, or where we will be after we last close them. That’s not a good enough excuse to suppose that the things in those two intervals were (a) same and (b) unpleasant and frightening. Look at an amoeba. The thing’s got nothing called fear. Fear is a learned response due to the constraints of being a human. So it’s logical to suppose that when you die and aren’t a human any more, you won’t have any need of your instincts, including fear. Hence, it’s not reasonable to be afraid of what lies beyond.

Talk about a hypocrite.



I got this mail:

FW: ViaqrvaCiaIis $1. 30

ViaqrvaCiaIis from $1 .30


Radiant. Fickle. Golden. False as fools gold. Last night he dreamed
hed found her fucking his brother Balon. One day I shall drink your
wine, Crows Eye, and take from you all that you holdthin, brittle hair
that did little to hide the loose pink flesh beneath his sagging chin.
This is no man

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Sometimes it’s best to lie down and gaze at the stars, and forget that technology has happened.