Tum Tum. Tring.
So much to say, so much can be said.
A strong desire to just not help them. A more virulent urge to just give up.
It's i think the night-before-result-depression. Probably. I actually want to simply runaway and hide. Run to where? This is home, house, my chaar deewari. But things don't get any worse.
I sweeped my house today, gave a jarhoo.
I am tired. When did writing, with extreme expression become a problem. I used to be a below average English student, with zilch vocabulary, I didn't know what vendors meant till 9Th grade. Now,i just want to be writing for .. , to make proud.
To make them smile, so that they know, its by their inspiration that i became this.
Make sense?
Tomorrow's a big day, 60 people will be coming to my house. I'd want to just somehow ignore their presence, hence thank God to ipods. No, I can't completely truncate them. I will have to serve them, look pretty, wear those clothes that had to be dry cleaned but never really got them, laziness. I think i give laziness a new rank.
Right now, i am being Grumpy from Care Bears. I'm not talking to anyone, not responding to my cousin's joke, not willing to work and clean the house anymore. I need silence, a lot of it. I think i need it more abstractly than being it real. Khair, i think. Silence lingers, even when i am in a crowd.
I need some alcohol. Ablaze, evergreen or maybe absolut. The spirit down my oesophagus, resulting in a digusting burning sensation in my stomach. As if the food that i have eaten or all the acid produced in my stomach is about to erupt, vomitting. As you await for it to come out, it all runs into the blood stream, giving a weird, sodden, high.
Supreme intoxication.
No. I don't. I don't.
I am so tired, that's it, i hope.
A strong desire to just not help them. A more virulent urge to just give up.
It's i think the night-before-result-depression. Probably. I actually want to simply runaway and hide. Run to where? This is home, house, my chaar deewari. But things don't get any worse.
I sweeped my house today, gave a jarhoo.
I am tired. When did writing, with extreme expression become a problem. I used to be a below average English student, with zilch vocabulary, I didn't know what vendors meant till 9Th grade. Now,i just want to be writing for .. , to make proud.
To make them smile, so that they know, its by their inspiration that i became this.
Make sense?
Tomorrow's a big day, 60 people will be coming to my house. I'd want to just somehow ignore their presence, hence thank God to ipods. No, I can't completely truncate them. I will have to serve them, look pretty, wear those clothes that had to be dry cleaned but never really got them, laziness. I think i give laziness a new rank.
Right now, i am being Grumpy from Care Bears. I'm not talking to anyone, not responding to my cousin's joke, not willing to work and clean the house anymore. I need silence, a lot of it. I think i need it more abstractly than being it real. Khair, i think. Silence lingers, even when i am in a crowd.
I need some alcohol. Ablaze, evergreen or maybe absolut. The spirit down my oesophagus, resulting in a digusting burning sensation in my stomach. As if the food that i have eaten or all the acid produced in my stomach is about to erupt, vomitting. As you await for it to come out, it all runs into the blood stream, giving a weird, sodden, high.
Supreme intoxication.
No. I don't. I don't.
I am so tired, that's it, i hope.
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