If I had to be worried about anything in the past couple of months, it would be the small facts of life which do not amuse me so very much. Apart from the (not so) small hassles of getting and trying to keep up with a new job, there is the arduous commute, bad weather that only seems to get worse, and moronic issues.
But I lost it completely when in a recent conversation, I in my usual delightful manner came up with a name which a dear friend (lets call him Narcissist) required for a new venture, and was met with (lets discuss that later).
Or whatever. What's wrong with now. Usually met with tremendous applause and thunder, I was met with a wrinkling nose that straightened after a while but that, ladies and gentlemen, was the death of the pet i call my confidence. ( screw you, Narcissist). This would be the part titled Rags.
I have already had my doubts and nagging fears that the City is killing my creative insights. I had not written a blog post in about 2 months (or was it 3? ) and i had no idea how or where to proceed.
So i decided that the best way to keep the fears at bay was to write my pending blog post and sleep heavily.
It may further be noted that i have no bloody idea about what and how to write, since all i have been doing for the past 2 months is mail blokes about things i really don't know.
Anyhow, since my creativity is completely killed anyway, and all thanks to the City, then lets throw stones together.
I always thought the metro was supposed to be a boon, rather than a bane. My recent adventurous and lengthy travels have however forced me to change my viewpoint. I have met so many people I would normally just strangle on a regular day, that i have lost count. Blokes who pick noses, auntijis who shout away in rapid tongues, girls who giggle (well that's comforting), girls who pick their noses, children who shout out so loud I think I might have burst an eardrum, girlfriends who cry, boyfriends who weep, girlfriends and boyfriends who pick noses.............. really its just endless.
That would be the part about the rascals. Seriously, what have I ever done to deserve this misery, lord!
And the riches, you ask? Well, isn't everything about the crisp paper notes and jingling pennies?!!
As i struggle to continue to write, not because I don't have the heart, but because I don't any time, I can think of only one thing. Writing is beautiful, and smooth. So the rich may snort and the rascals may bring inevitable mood swings, I will continue to write.
As for the Narcissist, well, what are narcissists for!
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