The Lab

Piano Meth Speaks


I have the entire sea in my palms. Tides and tides of them. How else might I explain the constant and relentless outpourings? Sometimes, my hands feel as hot as volcanic eruptions, and sometimes as cold as Arctic expeditions. But always the precipitation. Almost like a natural, earthly phenomenon. Surely, it must mean something. Something magnanimous and astounding. Something to defy logic and exactness and fact.

I am the earth. The earth is me. That’s the only sentiment that makes sense. For, I have the entire sea in my palms.


The cup is warm. Carelessly I tip over the contents into my mouth, and my eyes water, stinging, as I feel steam rising from my scalp.

Ok, so my cup deceived me. Should have known. The amber liqiod looks innocent. Swirling within. Enticing my tastebuds. “Drink me”, it says. I feel like Alice. Maybe the cup thinks I’m Alice. How should it know? It does not have any pre-notion of what an Alice is supposed to look like. We don’t have any mirrors here. If my cup believes me to be Alice, I could very well pretend to be Alice. In this way, I get to have two adventures. One for myself and one for Alice. I’m such a smart-Alec that way. Who’d have thought they could outsmart a cup? My cup is loony one though. We met in a very strange fashion actually. I shall tell you the story.

I was lying in bed and reading, some irrelevant material, when I decided that I needed to drink some tea. Now this was an odd proclivity. For I’d never before felt the need to drink tea. Anyhow, I shut my book and thought about this strange wish. Sure, I had the tea but I’d never needed it. And ergo, I had never had a teacup. But as I looked up that evening, at the odd assortment of kitcheneries I had, I discovered something astonishing. A colourful teacup. It had materialised out of nowhere, and was sitting there quite plainly, as though it had been its whole life. I’d never seen it before. But it was here now, and it seemed appropriate.  Maybe it was time to drink some tea. And that’s the strange meeting of my teacup and me.



A crazy scientist had a brilliant idea. And this was brilliant like nothing was. Everyone has great ideas. But this scientist had a brilliant one. A hundred great ideas equals one brilliant idea. That’s the real math right there. Believe me. What reason do I have for lying to you?


Do you believe me yet? Yes? That is most excellent indeed. Shall we get back to our crazy scientist then? Oh splendid. He was starting to get lonely. You see, it’s these brilliant ideas that make him demented. It’s what earns him the title of “crazy” scientist. I mean, without a brilliant idea, you’re just a regular geeky science-person. You have to have to have the brilliant ideas. Yes you do.


Do you think sunsets get bored of the same view? They must be thinking, “Ah, see this all the time”.


But unfortunately, kissing couples have nothing else to share their moments for. Kissing couples just adore sunsets. The sunsets don’t really have a choice.


I have caught the attention of a strange, handsome man. I’ve never seen him before. But he’s here now and my heart’s racing. I can feel the blood throbbing in my veins. I’m craving that which he could give me.


Bitch mode on. I must not let him know. Ever.


My pen is playing a magic trick on me. It gave me the impression that it was going to run out. Up to this point of time, it hasn’t. I didn’t know pens could do that. That seems as though it could have devastating consequences. Resulting in almost apocalyptic events. I’m not even being melodramatic right now. This is a very reasonable and valid concern. It could wipe out the entire human race. (Not that that would be the worst thing to happen to this earth).


How is my pen doing this? This pen has mind-controlling powers. And I am the poor owner of this evil pen. Ah what a dismal fate.


There’s this tiny little golden lion roaring at me. He’s telling me something. He thinks I can comprehend what he’s saying. Silly lion doesn’t know I don’t speak “cat”. How am I supposed to tell him? He looks very desperate. It’s a little endearing, but also a little depressing. He’s a tiny lion but he looks amazing with his mane. As if he were destined for greater things.


To tell you the truth, I sometimes think I am a cat. Or at least, quite feline-like. Because I’m so vain, and haughty.


I did not sleep after I wrote this entry. I shut my book, switched off the light, jumped into bed and let Haruki Murakami fill my head till my brain orgasmed. No. Till the sun broke the night.


You can see this is the right time. It’s finally DO ‘o clock. You’ve already figured out the metronome. Your fingers are ready with the required movements; and the whole picture has been formed in your head, for the future. So you take your pad, or your keyboard, or your friend, and you transfer the Intelligence. You ascertain that the vital-est information is passed on, before it is too late. Before it dies away with non-usage. With obsolescence. Or even mis-use. Or has been stolen. Save it before you lose it. It is already 2013; a year you will never forget, but others will. Make sure they don’t, for this is the Right Time.


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