fake friends and demob happiness

06.05.2026

S: You know, Alfonso, you are a real friend. You are always reliable. There are no wires crossed with you. It is always comfortable talking to you.

A: Is this a buttering up?

S: Not at all. I am comparing you to fake friends. A fake friend is not dependable. There are always wires crossed with a fake friend. And, eventually if not at first, it is uncomfortable talking to a fake friend.

A: Don’t let these fake friends bother you. They don’t care about you. Don’t care about them either.

S: Because I don’t lie, I don’t expect others to lie to me. To pretend that they are friends. I just can’t believe what users these fake friends are. You help them. You give them presents. You look after them and listen to their troubles. And in the end? They betray you.

A: They are not worth your spit. I don’t know why you worry so much about their betrayals and the fact that they are users. You have seen what they are like. Why be upset about them after that? They are not worth it. You are too good for them.

S: A big heart hurts big time.

A: Harbour your emotions and your investment for those that are worthy of it. You have been told by people that love you that you love too freely. You accept friendship too freely. Learn that they have to prove themselves. You cannot trust others.

S: So you yourself are telling me that you cannot trust other people?

A: Trust is earned. Sadly you have seen what this society produces. There are not worthy and honourable people now.

S: Well let us forget these fake friends the same way that they have forgotten us.

A: Tell me about your day.

S: I went to visit the V and A East. I did the upper ground floor. I went to the gym and pushed some heavy weights and did running on the treadmill, so fast that I went dizzy at the end of it. I shopped at M & S and bought some beef udon noodles for lunch as well as some reduced price Cadbury’s Creme eggs at Tesco’s and reduced price chicken and sweetcorn sandwiches to take around with me tomorrow. I finished the first draft of my dissertation for my Art History degree. So I will take a day off tomorrow before I revise it. I went to the park and smelled the scent of the flowers, watched the work of the bees at the flowers, communicated with nature and admired the flight of the birds. Dinner was chicken biryani, one of my favourite dishes that my mother makes.

A: A good day, forget about the troubles. Live life. It is fuller than theirs.

the nightmare that woke me up

03.05.2026

S: A nightmare woke me up this morning.

A: Really? What happened?

S: When I say woke me up, the nightmare squeezed me into the few seconds before the alarm went off.

A: Come, tell the tale.

S: I was working as the manager of a party. The setting was a big supermarket. Before the party people had arrived, I had to get rid of a big white machine. I was taking it to the charging point, carrying it by myself. I suddenly got called and had to drop it off in one of the shopping aisles before I could take it to the charging point. The first party person had arrived, the organiser. She wanted something in addition to what she had been promised when I tried to give her a warm reception and seemed sulky. She wanted the seating area upstairs which was empty, part of the cafe. It was not part of the contract and had not been arranged. I walked inside past the empty chairs and found myself locked outside. I tried to get back in through the door but the whole of the inside was moving upwards. The door would have jammed the movement as it opened inside and would have been stuck on the frame. I closed it just in time. I waited and then opened it again. Inside, they were shooting an astronaut film and the room was full of astronauts. I rushed past them. I would get into trouble, they would find out that I had disturbed the film. The alarm went off. I woke up from the nightmare.

A: A curious sequence of happenings.

S: Very understandable though. The nightmare is about money. It is based on several of my jobs where I manage events at various venues. But tellingly, this is in a supermarket, where the cultural industries I work in have been transformed into exploitative business and not charity. Some spaces have filming for money. Money is taking over my career when it should be about arts and culture.

A: You are having a nightmare about the commercialisation of arts and culture?

S: Precisely. And not just about the charities I work for. Also about writing. Because the astronauts are there because one of my friends is reading a book about astronauts and I read about the author’s prior book which was self-published and made lots of money too, literature as business. When I, of course, self-publish. The dream is about how my self-publishing is an interruption of work and the whole money making ethos. I am the outsider trying to get in, disrupting everything, the unwanted.

A: What about the demanding customer?

S: The philistine public that will never be pleased. The origin of the nightmare.

the money monsters

02.05.2026

S: I read with disgust that London’s Whitechapel Gallery hired an Economist in Residence.

A: What’s so bad about that?

S: She thinks that she can tell us what the value of art and culture is, that is the most disgusting thing. All of us that get into arts and culture are trying to escape from these money monsters with their bullshit ideas of value. And this London institution is hiring precisely that kind of individual to talk about what’s important and significant about art and culture. For us to be represented by these jokers. What the fuck does she know about it? Does she have any training in art and culture? This society is a joke. The people that are least able to do anything are the ones that they employ and listen to.

A: Come come now. I’m sure she’s interested in art and culture.

S: Then she wouldn’t demean it by being there to appraise its value as an economist. And pander to this bullshit fascist and idiotic government and this audience of philistines.

A: I’m sure there’s more here.

S: This society can only listen to a fake. When it comes to people that care for art and culture, live for art and culture, produce art and culture, then they cannot listen. They force us into marginalisation. They do not value our interpretations or our ideas. Because they want to keep on doing the same stupid thing over and over again. And what is the most stupid thing? Money. That’s all that comes into their rotten heads. Everything is about money. Make everything about money. They have a monomania. Their language is about money. Their ideas are about money. And these are the people that you want in the museum representing what the museum is about? These are the people that you want in art, representing what art is about? Do you wonder why I am angry?

A: Relax. There’s nothing you can do about it.

S: There is something that you can do about it. There’s always something. Do you know, when Michael Jackson wanted to shoot the video ‘They Don’t Care About Us’, which is about protesting racism and how the government mistreats people, about showing reality, the Brazilian government banned him from shooting it. So he went to the Mafia. The Mafia looked after him. They took him to the favela. They made the video happen. The disenfranchised supported the disenfranchised. I know that there are more of us.

A: You are not Michael Jackson.

S: I believe anyone with conviction, strength and discipline can change this world. Just like Jesus stood for something against Mammon, so can I. I can stand for a world of art and culture that does not rely on money. I am living proof of it. I have my own publishers. I have my own books. I have my own blog. I have my own photography and art accounts. All done without requiring money.

A: You do not have fame.

S: I have something better than the value that these cretins accord to those that apologise for the injustice and racism of this culture. I have my own self-respect and I have love for my community, the community of Tigers. That love is evident in everything that I produce. I don’t have to show why I value the community in terms of money. My love is a love that does not cost money. My love that I express? It does not cost money. And that is why I am the genuine article. That is why I am the poet, the artist, the photographer, the writer, the scholar. The genius. I am above money.

the bravery of the writer, the polymath and the anarchist

30.04.2026

A: Do you not think it is foolish to write in this day and age, to be a thinker, to be a speaker? They would gnash at you and claw your throat for expressing an opinion.

S: The mark of the writer is that he is brave. Braver than most. He expresses what he thinks with no apology. He does express an opinion. And not only the opinion, but also himself.

A: And you count yourself as brave?

S: As the bravest. Because I say exactly what I think. I am published and I am damned by them.

A: You are always boasting about how brave you are.

S: The only thing that stays the steel is compassion.

A: How brave are you?

S: It is brave to be a writer. To have a voice. To stand up against everyone. To be different. It is brave to be a polymath. To go into whatever field seems tempting and to become an expert in it. To have the bravery of the self to be able to bend this mind to anything and everything. To do degree after degree, starting from scratch every time for the long haul and to plan to do degrees after that in the future. To be a generalist in a world that insists on blind tunnel vision and specialisation. It is brave to be an anarchist. To believe in the self when no one would have you believe in the self. To go up against the biggest bully, threat and terrorist in the world which is the state. To go up against the slaves to the state and their bullshit. To go up against this world in every way. This mind is brave. This body is brave too. Everything about me is brave. Because I am the hero. I am the god. I am The Tiger.

A: Is not bravery foolish?

S: It is only foolish to be a coward. Because a coward lacks the wisdom of bravery. The truly brave, they have thought about what it is to be a coward. They have fully gauged the contempt of cowardice, its limitations. The brave are free. The coward is a slave. The coward cannot become a writer. Because he is scared to express himself and cares too much what others think, others that can do fuck all except for judge, and that incorrectly too. The coward cannot become a polymath. The coward lacks wits. The coward cannot dare different fields. The coward cannot be an anarchist. Because a slave cannot become the most powerful. The slave cannot go against the bully that is the state. They fear and therefore they obey and lick boots.

A: Boast after boast.

S: All justified my good boy. Everyone in this world searches for freedom. And I? I am free. The free are brave.

the poetics of marginalisation and the counter culture

28.04.2026

A: When one reads what you write, the substance is made up of a response to rejection, exclusion, hostility, heartbreak. Can you not write anything positive?

S: Those that have been included and valued can write something that conveys the satisfaction and the security that they feel. Those that have been rewarded, accepted and loved. I can only convey my experience of life.

A: Have you ever wondered whether it is something in you which is why you are treated as you are?

S: No. Because everything that is in me is in Punjabi culture. I am not me, I am Punjab. And they have tried to marginalise and exclude and restrict Punjab.

A: You have no personality?

S: I have a Punjabi personality. As I say, I am Punjab. We are loud. We are audacious. We are brave. We are hard working.

A: How do you know that what you suffer is not just what a genius has to suffer in this world? There are many articles about this. That because you are clever you will never get on with others that are not on your same level. You cannot stoop to the levels of their superficiality, you are too intense and full of deep thought. Then, remember, you have that condition which is also not conducive to society.

S: Those articles are untrue. They are based on generalisations. I say the same thing to you as I say to everyone. You have not met these people. You do not know what they are like. You cannot judge relationships from the outside, only from the inside. Don’t try to gaslight someone’s experience of things.

A: You would make the standard completely subjective?

S: What is so objective about you, the outside observer? Are you not subjective? I trust myself more than anyone else. I know that I am the reliable narrator. It is this world that is unreliable with their tired assumptions that can never take into account racism. It is just a fact that whenever you talk about racism here, people pretend that there is something else. Always something else, never racism. Funny that. When I have found that racism is their whole society. They have nothing else. The whole point of how they live and act and treat people is racism. They are racists. That is the truth.

A: And what is the key to the poetics of the marginalised and the counter culture?

S: The key is love. We are full of love in a world that has no love. We have right judgement in a world that has no justice or judgement. We have respect and honour, enough to give to others. They don’t.

the usurper of happiness

27.04.2026

S: You know, others are enjoying the happiness that is supposed to be ours.

A: In what sense?

S: I will only speak of my own case. If anything was actually fair, I would be a household name. After all, I am a genius. I would be feted everywhere. I would have whatever I wanted. Instead, there is this. The ones that are enjoying the rewards that I should have had, they do not deserve them. They should be mine.

A: You say this with complete assurance and humility of course.

S: We have spoken of this before. I have complete confidence in myself. You know, no one can match me in a fair contest. It is just a fact. They cannot outperform me. Therefore, if anyone is chosen above me for anything it is because of the wrong reasons. Who can write, think or create better than me?

A: But because you have a chip on your shoulder, you are not chosen.

S: Who has put this chip upon my shoulder? It is them. I know that they are unfair. Because of how they have treated me and my talent and brilliance. They have never been just. They cannot be just. They give lip service to the ideals of meritocracy but they have no meritocracy. Only mediocrity and this popularity contest that they have.

A: How can you get back the happiness that is supposed to be yours?

S: There is no way. Relationships, opportunities, friendships, whatever it is. You can never get them back. Because you have been passed over out of caprice and injustice and there is no way of getting any of those things back. Because they will not come out of their inquity. They are monsters.

A: Hanging on to the things that should have been yours, hanging onto your humilation, these are not good traits.

S: They can forget because there is not this accumulation of ills. I cannot forget the mountain of injustice. I cannot forget how they have stood in the way of all my ambitions and dreams, the disappointment that I have had to live with, how they have cheated our dreams and destinies. I cannot forget or forgive what they have taken away from me and us.

the illusion of joining

24.04.2026

S: Men live by a number of illusions.

A: Such as?

S: The illusion that we are not all alone.

A: Alone in what sense?

S: There is nobody and nothing. Men yearn to be a part of something greater than themselves. To join to society and others. Yet there is no joining to others. It is all illusion. There is only the naked self.

A: You feel disconnection?

S: In Descartes, he asks this question. How do you know that other people have thoughts and are not robots? In short, how do we know that only we do not exist? How can you guarantee that other people actually exist? How do we know that we are human and that they are also human, like us? In other words, the reality of being human is that we do not know if we are all alone. This is the foundation of modern philosophy in the West.

A: You however, are a critic of Descartes and mind body dualism. Because you believe that you are a body and nothing else. That there is no split between the mind and the body.

S: Let’s come back to this idea however. How do you know that you are not all alone?

A: Surely you have connected with others. Surely you have felt their humanity?

S: One assumes that they are human like us. One uses oneself as a reference point. But how does one know that they are human? In fact, how does one know that the self is human in the first place?

A: Do you honestly believe that there is no community?

S: I have spent four years going around London seeking connection. Just one connection. Just one person. I have some experience of this. I do not say things without any basis in fact. I am not like the liars in this society.

A: Whatever your experience, you will eventually have to buy into this illusion that there are others. That there is a community.

S: The reason that I am The Tiger is because the tiger is a solitary beast. The tiger hunts alone. That is why The Tiger is the king of the jungle. Because he is a solitary beast. He is all alone. That is destiny. Destiny, you cannot fight. They have a community and connection. The Tiger stands by himself. The community that he represents is the dream of the poet and the guru. The just community, not this one of lies and not much else. I have accepted that I am all alone.

A: The man of the community says that there is no community. The one that serves the community says that there is no community.

S: There is only isolation. Nothing else. Whatever you do, eventually all that is left is you and the mirror. That is what Descartes was saying.

wanting the world

20.04.2026

A: I think it is true of you to want the world.

S: I don’t think so. I imagine that you are referring to my ambitions?

A: Yes.

S: I do not want the world. That is the mark of the coloniser. The imperialist.

A: But you want the whole world to love you and to fall at your feet.

S: Victory is won over the heart. Not over land.

A: History would say otherwise.

S: In any case, having looked at the world, having explored the world, I no longer want the world. It is a detestable and disgusting thing this world.

A: What do you want then?

S: I don’t want to impress them. I am much better than them.

A: But come, tell me what you want?

S: In many ways, I want only to destroy them. Have you ever read ‘Perfume’ by Suskind? In the end, he no longer wants the love of the people. It is not enough. It is nothing.

A: What does the genius want?

S: The genius wants above all things to play the game. And I do play the games. Several games. Art, writing, music, song, photography, scholarship.

A: But you have often enough told me that you play to win. There is no winning in these games that you are playing.

S: You are wrong. I am winning against them. They would have me, through the conditions they impose, to do nothing and to be no one. To have no voice, body or soul. Every time that I make something, I am preserving Punjabi culture. I am preserving and transmitting to the next generation the spirit of The Tiger. I am winning. I always win. Because to be the authentic self is to win. To be a man is to win. To be a god? Is that not winning? The People, The Oppressed, they have chosen this champion. The one with the gift of the mind. The one with the gift of strength. The one with the gift of endurance. The one with the gift of talent. The one with the gift of genius. The one that is the champion. They have chosen the one that wins.

the heaviness of thought

08.04.2026

S: Have you ever wondered, how heavy is a thought?

A: Can you weigh a thought?

S: Sadness is when the thoughts become too heavy. They take on the aspect of concrete. You feel low because you are bowed down because of the heaviness of thought. You feel exhausted with sadness because you are bearing the load of the heavy thought. They say that when you are sad, that you are bearing the load of the world upon your shoulders. That is the heaviness of thought.

A: You are confusing metaphors and language with the reality of an experience.

S: But metaphors, as Nietzsche said, are what make up our reality. Language is what makes up our reality.

A: You are trying to say that the reality of the space time continuum and the very fabric of the cosmos shift when you are sad and emotional?

S: This is precisely what I am saying. Gravity only becomes real when you are sad. Gravity only becomes a factor when you have the heaviness of thought in your head. The mental and the physical planes align in sadness.

A: And when you are happy?

S: Then, gravity disappears. You have the lightness of being.

A: But surely, you have the lightness of being in sadness? Being is so light that the heaviness of thought can wear it down.

S: You have a point. What is this cheap and flimsy, insubstantial life and this mind that is prey to sadness and suffering?

A: Do you make a metaphysical claim about emotions and reality, that emotions shape the reception of the cosmos in the body?

S: It is perception that makes the world what it is, this physical world. This is what the theories in science are at the moment.

A: Your perception is that of the sad man, of the cynic, the pessimist and the realist, of the minority, of the marginalised.

S: Nonetheless, it is a factor in perception. And you have to also remember the power of The Tiger. We are the truth. Reality comes to us in another way, to the community of Tigers.

A: India says be not sad, life is beautiful.

S: The world gives us sorrow. The world straps the load of sadness onto us. In the morning, we struggle to rise with this load. But still we stand on our feet. This world burdens us with cares and the lack of love. Life is heaviness. Still, still, the ambition of the community asks us to work. While we carry this unfair load. The ambition of the community, its hope, they ask us to live. Amidst this death.

being jilted

07.04.2026

A: We were talking yesterday of the experience of being jilted. You have told me about it happening to you. What does it feel like?

S: You are on a boat in the sea. You think you have love and support from the fellow passenger that you have with you. Suddenly, they are gone. You are abandoned. A part of yourself has died. You are left to continue the journey yourself. You are all alone. You are suffering.

A: And the bed?

S: You are fighting to get up every morning. It is a hard fight. You do not want to get up. There is no point in going on. The one you were with, that you wanted, that was the one that gave colour and meaning to this life. And all the while, you know that you did not do anything wrong. You did not deserve to be abandoned or rejected. It is the unfairness of the thing. It is the meaninglessness of the thing. You are aware now of how expendable you are. Of how harsh and cold and hostile and apathetic this world is. Love has been taken away from you. Someone that thought of you when you were not there is gone. You are not special to anyone. And, out there, something or someone has been thought more deserving of the love that you wanted so badly.

A: Those are the thoughts. The feelings?

S: Nausea. Your stomach is tearing itself apart. When you lie there in the bed, it is like you are living through a nightmare. I am all alone. I am all alone. I will never have love in my life. My love is doomed. In this whole world, there is not one person that will give me love. All that I asked for was love. Life is meaningless when you have to be alone. Nothing is worth it if you have to be alone. All this work that I did, it was for love. Everything has soured.

A: Is there more?

S: Do you want to talk about the mental problems that come afterwards? The medical illnesses? Do you want to talk about how it takes three or more years to get better afterwards? Let us not go into that. Consider the plight of Miss Havisham, the life dedicated to the pain of being jilted and abandoned.

A: And yet, the people here can move from one person to another without any remorse or regret.

S: Because everyone is expendable here. No one means anything. You are punished if you love someone and care for them. Love is suffering. Having a heart in this world is suffering. Being different, too different to be loved? That is suffering. People hate me because I am a cynic, a pessimist and a realist. I see man as a wolf to man. There is the reason. And yet, even though no one should be trusted, we trust. Even though no one loves, we expect love. Because what would life be otherwise? Suspicion, hate, nausea and disgust.