Ok.
Exams are not going too well.And Im like wasting my holidays,when I should be partying with the gangs in Calcutta.
Slumdog Millionaire is quite a good movie.Kinda like Salaam Bombay,its pretty good.
And Im being stalked.And it aint a girl.Gay guy stalking me.
Please turn me into Homer.Please please please.
Ok,it doesnt get any worse.Really,it does not get any worse.I think.
Emotional atyaachaar,anyone????
I have a major problem with english grammer.
And Ill be Scrooge this year and not be a part of the festive spirit.
Merry Christmas,everyone else.
Turn on the lights.Draw aside the curtains.Hard footsteps on the wooden plank.
You set the stage on fire,they say.Ha,what do they know,anyway.
This night belongs to you, me and the hundreds present here. The mask acts well.The performance even more.Thats why you pay me,dont you.My printed face on the advertising posters in bus stops.Thats what you come to see.
Electrifying.Electrifying moment,aye,that is.
Ever been in front of an estatic crowd,cheering to every caricature of mine.Applauding it.
Laugh,when I laugh.Laugh,when I cry.Laugh,when Im dance.Laugh,while I feel dead inside.
Because beyond laughter,lies nothing.Nothing which your significant lives and mine,insignificant can comprehend.It is your mirth that helps you to delay the miseries of your life and my performance that delays mine.
Thrilling it is.In front of those lights and the jazz playing in the background,on the stage and with you on your seats,with all the goosebumps and the spine shivering moments.Its crazy,but only to me,you see.Maybe not to you,so much.
As the confetti settles down admist the streaks of coloured light,the clapping increases,this evening,Im the entertainment.
Im the showstopper.Im the amusement.Im your rejected lives and your grief.
Cheer cheer,with your expensive clothes and your drinks.Tonight,Im the magic man.
Its 2.14 am.
I wake,I sleep.
It sounds cliched but I am suffering from a certain regular bout of insomnia.I mean,I cant really help the fact that I have to work in graveyard shifts earning that extra bit of moolah.I mean,it really is supposed to disrupt my cycle system.I guess,thats why companies actually lure us to work in the nights,with all the money,of course.Turn us into zombies.Yeh,the living dead.
So,we have this zombie company,which turns humans into zombies,who in turn work for the humans.Its a process to keep the population bomb in control.
o-kay.Damn you,Prez L,I really thought slavery was better.
So,yeh,insomnia.Yes,I wake up in the middle of the morning,when white collar employees rush off to work....which is technically midnight for me.Its a bit complicated.So I wake up.I blink.I wonder why Im sitting on my bed.I blink more.I drink some water.I blink blink blink.And I doze off in my upright sitting position.Just like a horse.
Last weekend,I woke up to find myself sleeping at the base of my staircase.But thats another story called sleepwalking.
Bloody place,man.I tellye,its a fuckin shithole.
Maybe,it was the company I kept.And the crowd,the girls,the booze,the pot,the nightlife,pubs,joints.But all that filly about too much of course had been leading to the waning interest in the city,until it actually reaches the fine line separating insanity.Office,of course,is a bit different.I thought I was cool as long as the cutter stash kept filling in.The keyboards going clat clat clat clatter,boss going a bit goo goo in his head 'cuz of the recession in the whoring country.Feck,things have quite changed around here.
But everything's all not bad.I feel like quite a gollum hiding me stash of pot from me friends who smoke up for free.My precious ,my precious.He wasnt all that wrong.
