Similarly Unique Individuals

We all are similar and that’s quite simple,

We all need the similar resources

We all share same emotions.

We all stress on our tensions.

We all tolerate similar yet unique problems

We all dwell in the same world


We all are unique and that’s quite simple,

No one but you know the world like you do

No one but you can love your parents like you do, No one but you may live the same life like you do,

No one but you have breathe the air that you did,

No one but you can think of your fantasies like you do

No one but you can go deep within you

Where your uniqueness hides and thrives

Where you are the most purest of you

A you with no pride

A you who is just a tide

A you who is here for a ride.


World of Black

It’s hard to be happy, when it seems that everything important to me, in my life, slips away.

I know it’s not an accident. For every action an equal and opposite reaction occurs. Which I take as, if there is another me out there in the world, he must be the luckiest S.O.B. alive! The other side of the scales, since I am Capricorn. The light to my dark. The essence to my self. The one who eats my dreams and fantasy’s with pleasure, as I dine on apathy. The lucky one who knows how it feels to come away with the prize, while I verbalize my despair through an electronic device, and print it out to cheer myself up.

This is how it is. I began as a multi-faceted shape, lets say a hexagon. Each side of this hexagon was alive, buzzing with knowledge on subjects as diverse as one can imagine. I was a magnet for anything that came within reach of my senses. This information was triple filtered, until only the choicest information remained. Only the knowledge I needed to survive became important, I took it and used it. I survived.

The sides of the hexagon were not enough to contain what I had grasped. Some of the content was damaged, some of it wiped out, entire sections of my ego were irreparable. My eyes took on a see through gaze, I could feel the empire which was life crumbling. The hexagon was no more. My shape had changed.

As a square I had four sides, all equal. They were functional planes of my existence. Emotions were one of those sides. It began to get dented, after only slight use. I patched it up and held it together. The emotive soon became controlled by another side of the square, thus caving in the side which was patched and dented, why protect it when it was now empty?

Which left me a triangle. I spread my feet to shoulder width, and held my arms up and out to my sides and became as one with the triangle. It became braced by my external strength, and my internal knowledge that this shape was next to last. I could not let this crumble. I must defy the world from taking that away. I held tight to the knowledge that the world had taken everything else, this was all I had left. I was adamant that I would keep it.

Which seemed feasible at the time. The triangle was surrounded by blackness, (negative space) which had flooded where the hexagons walls once stood. It pressed the walls from all sides, this black negative destroyer, trying to smother by triangle. I held it in check for the longest of time. Then I got pushed over the edge by the power of loneliness, and soon was reduced once more, to my current state. The which will have to suffice until I can rebuild.

I will not allow this circle to be broken. This circle that holds me. I feel it’s wall pulsate and ripple as the world tries to figure out a way to pop this bubble. Through love and loss, through the many forms of sorrow it can bury my little circle with, I am that’s left. Inside a circle, inside a man, inside a body that craves it’s own fantasy’s and dream’s, inside a world of black.

Who Am I?

I am the skill, the talent, the creativity & diversity. The greatness that never walks but floats, in layman’s terms I am the fucking goat! I am the director whose films will soon make it to big screen.

I am the poet whose wordplay & vernacular will always reign supreme.

I am the author whose books & stories leave you wanting more, they make you feign. I am the anime artist with multiple themes. I am the Picasso whose paintbrush creates real life waterfalls & streams. I am the Rembrandt who paints images so vivid & serene.

I am the sculptor who kneads clay into marvels extremely pristine. I am the model whose fashion & style is so cold & crisp that his body radiates steam & he walks shrouded in mist. I am the terrarium builder whose fingers of so intricately create any landscape that you desire. I am the comic book artist who will bring down Marvel & DC’s empire with a reign of hellfire! I’m the artist whose lowkey a one man dream team. I’m that melanated hipster kid with luscious locks whose kind of dreamy. I am the sun that’s impossible to not see. I am the master of surrealism & I excel in realism.

My still lives breed life & my drawings are appalling, the kid has no time for stalling. I’m on the come up, I am fame, I am Yashraj remember that name! Steadily achieving my goals. Wait. Notice how I said goals & not dreams, because when you say dreams that means you’re asleep. But when you say goals that means you’re awake & chasing something that’s not fake. I have no time for dreams & procrastination is not en route with my destination. My imagination & creativity go hand in hand with my uniqueness & complexity which is a vast & expensive sea. One last thing, don’t sleep on me.


[inspiration comes from my troubled mind/

but you not plainly see/ my eyes are the gates of hell/

though they simply envision

this sharp tongued world]

[a part of me died one day/ my mind was freed

in that hour/ ripped from the solace that lies

within me/ tossed to the undead that crawls

amongst us all]

[a mountain to climb endlessly/ to reclaim my

half dead self/ i am still not half as head as

you/ but barely below the surface my blood

still runs cold]

[my inspiration is a fabricated dream/ there

is still truth to my madness/ words spewed

from my crooked hands/ as my truth arises

from my razor cheeks]

[i want to feel the words that i possess/ my

mind may capsize before me as panic sets/ and

the darkness chokes my life from me/ while

the light continues to search for me]

[there is pride in my inspired mine/ a

creative affirmation to the world around me/

a conscious choice of self acceptance/ if only

to be seen as a lonely outcast]


Arrogant & Ignorance

The plague of current generations is not a physical scourge. It is psychological and it is emotional. It is ignorance cloaked in arrogance.

To be clear; ignorance is not a negative attribute. Its not a slur or an insult though it is often mis-used as one.

Ignorance is merely a failure to know something. A failure to understand or interpret something accurately. Ignorance simply means that I don’t know, you don’t know, or nobody knows. At one time or another every person on the planet experiences this; both as the innocent underinformed who causes unintended hardship, or as the victim of somebody else’s unintentional mistake.

Arrogant ignorance is not the same. Arrogance is the antonym of humility. Arrogance is dangerous. An arrogant person believes they deserve better and that they are better than most.

ARROGANT IGNORANCE: The act of saying, thinking, or believing that you truly understand a situation which is really pride directing you. You are aware that you could learn more or do more about something that is clearly urgent yet prioritized more personal issues… until the something worms it’s way into your personal life. Your home. Your family. Yourself. Myself.

The need for tranparency

We are living in The Age of light. Revolutions and Ages or stages such as the Bronze, the Agriculture, the Industrial, the Nuclear, and the Computer and Internet Age happen exponentially faster at each occurrence. We are probably at a point where the intermittent of gaps of time that separate each one has diminished to a point where lines canĀ  no longer be measured. Hence the Age of Light. We exist now in a climate of constant trending change.

The light is much more than a metaphor for ‘understanding.’ It is a heightening of awareness and a dissolution of ignorance, or artificial ignorance, in regards to the condition of the human spirit. With brevity: The Age of Light is an awakening of the unconscious mind wherein exists, for the vast majority of humankind, an empathy that is genuine yet somehow lost in its’ transition to action.We sincerely want to help, the help is needed, we should feel obligated to help if ever we professed benevolence and yet, even as we avert our eyes the ‘obligation’ diminishes and then we forget about it completely.

Coming are more specific and possibly more bothersome facts as to my direction. Also, I wouldn’t be so bold without providing answers as to how we can make this transition. That’s what is missing. Answers. I may have them. You may not like them. After all, they don’t call them revolutions for nothing.

The Age of Light. Light is warmth and light is powerful. Light is good. On the path toward The Age of Transparency.


My head processes every single scenario of failure that is ever possible, a man once told me ‘you are only as free as you allow yourself to be’. But what is really free is the ability to completely believe, believe that we are actually free. You see, freedom rests underneath the skin of our prior mistakes. We are all left to pay for them at the cost of not only ourselves. Personally, I am content with paying for the mistakes others make. If someone must pay a price for what lies ahead, because of that was left behind. I’d rather it be me.

I’d rather be me than the shivering man, hiding from the cold, on the frozen concrete. I’d rather it be me than the single mother, exhausting herself with a third job to make enough to feed her children, only to starve herself. The worst part of it all is that today, almost every mistake made in this world, is considered by most as a failure. We are judged wholeheartedly by the slightest missed steps. Missed steps seen by those who have never had the burden of making the hardest of all choices. This world keeps moving on right before our eyes, with careless egoism crippling our society.

I have heard it all before. Begging and pleading, we can save this, we can change. Beg all you want, you are only crying wolf. I have read it all before, as we do what we can now to change our ways. The time has gone. We cannot stare down a gouge as deep as bone and attempt to fix it with a few smell bandaids. You may not see. You may be blind. You are all just ignorance defined.

If you ever anything from me, take this; our world, our lives, our society, the one we have meld, is a mindless anomaly. While we all are of different thoughts, different state of minds, we revolve around a constant state of unconscious being. Yes, we are present, physically, but we are simply blind to the real structure that our forefathers worked so hard to build. We have converted that structure into an asylum, one in which may just determine the end of time.