Mosquito, smiling man and other such events.

I am so ridiculously restless. Its a nightmare to constantly stare at the blank wall and listen to the motherfucker crow rant about god knows what. And seriously, its quite bizarre that the crow knows every time I am mindfucked to come and, "Koww" at my window. Maybe its saying-Dude, but you are upset and we are of the sadists!

And the fucking mosquito- If it isn't busy giving me Malaria or someshit, it comes right INTO my ear and makes that fucked up noise. Now I WANT THAT DIVINE SUPERFUCKING POWER TOO, to figure other species out. How can it know its my ear and not my nose, or my finger, or my penis or anything else? But it just knows! Oh, the poor little shit is going poop in the head, lets fuck him in the ear.

Relenting to the law of survival I put on my clothes, looking as shabby as any other day I head out the door. I can't take a cab-I have no money. That is all right though, I am quite used to it. I get into the bus. Nothing interesting (or uninteresting for that matter! )happens in the bus.

I get off the bus and get into an Auto rickshaw. I politely ask the driver if he is going to take the left or go straight. Now, I was only polite and straight faced about an irrelevant piece of information. I did not have boobs popping out of my body, but apparently it was raining boobs. It started with a grin, but the fucker never stopped. I acknowledged once- maybe unknowingly I cracked a joke that was unbelievably funny. But he never stopped grinning. Whatever the fuck it was, he was creepy.

There are times in my life when I want to just shut my eyes, bury my face right into a big bowl of rice and stay like that till I become rice. I am waiting for the day I move on from this strange sort of rice fascination because that will be the day I will also stop being so fucking restless. Basically, I hate being restless. It annoys me. And the worst part about hating being restless is that you can't do anything about it. What do you do, you can't chuck it out the window and go rest since that exactly is the issue. So you think of becoming rice, or poop, or steel or whatever else. Or bump into forever smiling men or listen to animals(insects, whatever) vocalize in your ear and drain sanity out of you.

Or make you blog about it.

If it was a moment of laughter
I would let it go
If it was about only putting on a smile
I would let it go
If it was the sound of that breath , or its smell
I would still let it go
But here I am writing you a poem
How can I let it go.

Hero of my day.

In all the sense, it is what you say through your ass that gets me to understand you, you really must be quite a thing!

This is really frightening. To the world out there I am nice. Nice! What the fuck is nice? Nice could mean OK. OK? OK to do what? to say? OK is-no you are piece of crap and go get a fucking life-only a little less grossly offensive. OK! I never sent out pamphlets declaring my beautiful heart and its fabulous lineage. Nice. OK. !!!!! And then you make such utter disgusting music. Did you NOT know it'll sound shit. I mean your farts must sound better, they only smell shit. Such ear-threatening powder in the name of music. Nice. OK.

Moving on. Nice. OK. I am sleep deprived, intoxicated almost. I am home sick. Terribly. Nice. OK.

Growing up finally seems like a good thing. As each step thuds upon the floor of creation, I breathe in a sense of pride. It swells up my heart with subtle exuberance. I welcome the anonymous with an improved sense of understanding. I feel. I touch. I know. It has its beauty. I realize. I respect. Now, I do not fear.

To me, breathing in only importunate. The real thing is to breathe out. Completion.
Nice. OK.