somethin' to share...

sometimes people ask me why do i leave all of a sudden? they ask why n' they almost make me believe that they really would like to know that... as if it's the last thing that's left unknown to them n' they'd really like to figure it out... as if knowin' this would make their lives better n' they'd not ask the second question.... "but why?"... i find it funny. i find it funny because they all make it look all so complicated as if it were some fuckin' indefinite integral calculus problem which was left unsolved by newton himself. no man it ain't that difficult to understand if all you cared a little in the first place to see the answer which was always floatin' around. i like the fact when people miss me or atleast when the believe that they do. i like it. i like the fact that they think everythin' would end in smoke when i'm no longer to be seen anymore as i'm no longer there. why can't they understand that i don't like the fact to be ignored n' live like a stranger all the time when i'm still fuckin' there n' nobody gives a shit. i mean why wouldn't i try to make it just the opposite n' when i do succeed in doin' that.. why're they curious.. where did the confusion package come from.. can't you see it's so fuckin' simple!

wish i weren't...

what you hide is your weakness. because in rare occasions you'll come across people who'll hide their strengths. n' i term it rare when i know i'm wrong because i don't think i'll find anyone who'll do so. given a situation or even without... the strength will be displayed.. not without knowledge.. but with vital deliberateness. n' i'm writin' this because i want to confess no matter how glamorous or glorious i became or maybe i wanted to become... all i was doin' was nothin' different or nothin' out of the box. i was just hidin' my weaknesses. n' that's where you put a period. nothin' glamorous or nothin' glorious to add.

i was slapped hard tonight in the place where i stay with a couple of strangers. i was slapped n' yelled at. my glasses got dislodged from my specs. i was beaten because i refused to give the magazine i bought to a 40 year old guy. n' i didn't do anythin'. not only because i couldn't which i couldn't. but i didn't. i didn't even protest... didn't make any elegant defense to counter the assault. i just stood by my point n' didn't give the magazine. by reason i proved later why i was logical n' why he wasn't. that wasn't difficult for me. but i knew... i couldn't have done anythin'. later he apologized but that didn't make me feel any better. i knew i had no part in that. he chose to feel bad about it later. n' even practically... he slapped me in front of people.. he said sorry when everyone was asleep.

but that slap had made me realize one thing... all these times i was tryin' to hide from all the people... i wasn't lookin' for somethin' different or doin' anythin' different.... i was just tryin' to hide all my incompleteness.. all the could have beens that people might still think i've.. all my weaknesses that they don't know that i've. maybe i'll still do the same. maybe i'll. but the worst part.. i still have to wake up tomorrow.. face the people who laughed at me in the other room after i was slapped n' of course the one who did it. how weak i'm... n' is there a limit to it.. because i still choose to be the same person. sorry is all i can tell myself.. as there had been so many nights like these i've passed just with shaky hands n' tremblin' tears.... as i know there couldn't be anythin' else apart from them n' an apology. i'm both ashamed of myself n' feel pity as well.. contradictin' huh!

let me just write...

# the greatest piss off-er for me. few men queuin' near the wash basin n' someone standin' in the side rushes in... overtakin' you makes his way ahead. n' you see him hand bathin' for the next ten minutes. (yeah maybe your ride to mars, your hometown, is just about to leave. "okay jackie boy! take my way to have yours!")

# the greatest embarrassment for me. have you ever got yourself alone in some place when you make sure there's nobody around you.. particularly nobody seein' you... so that you can take your time to pick your nose.. which has to be done.. (i mean there are things pilin' up inside... n' by now.. it's gettin' difficult to breathe.. i mean what do you expect. i let myself die just because it doesn't look that nice when you pick your nose. not happenin'.. i can't help if you feel bad but i'm pickin' my nose.) n' just after you've spent sometime inside your nose... your fingers carefully n' delicately pulls out a semi-solid or semi-liquid lump of that mess out of your nose.. yeah i'm talkin' about those semi-solid or semi-liquid n' not the dry ones. the dry ones are too easy to pluck out n' you don't need isolation for that. the wet ones.. n' just when they're partially out of your nose.. somebody.. some loser-dick-headed-super-fucked-personality walks in. (i mean what were you doin'.. hidin' behind the curtains so that you can enter in the exact moment when you can embarrass me the most) n' there's no way you can hide.. that thing is like halfway in the air.. caught between your fingers n' your nose..(n' if you think hard.. that's poetic as well) but no way you don't make no effort to hide.. n' that adds to the climax of your embarrassment.

# the greatest fun thing for me. have you ever seen the faces of men when they're watchin' a hot girl passin' them by. it need not even be real. even a poster of a half naked woman can do the trick. have you ever seen how they turn their heads back when their eyes can no longer keep the view in the range of their visibility. actually that's too poetic for me. men find it a little difficult to get on with their lives. but it's a little too easy for them to get turned on n' turn back. i must go back to my old theory. all men are pigs.

# a thing i'm not able to share with anyone but findin' it impossible to keep it with me. yeah i'm a sort of a person who loves bitchin' around... have done my graduation in gossipin' n' i'm very good in spreadin' rumours. someone is losin' his pubic hair in my office. yeah it's true. i don't know who he is.. i mean obviously.. duh! but there's definitely someone. i always see few of them in the urinal in my floor. i mean i've no clue how to react to that. is pubic hair loss somethin' to be cheered for...  because you don't need that hair anyway. ("no thank you!") but since it's a loss.. do i have the right to feel happy without consultin' that person. n' it's such a mystery. somethin' i can't find out... somethin' i can't talk about... n' it's definitely not a kind of secret i'd want to take it to my grave... (no thank you!)

where were you before and what are you doin' now?

sometimes the world gets so smart.... n' always much to your likin'.... you've got like no clue how did it happen... as if some over night miracle. every pause... every coma in a sentence.. every act of rephrasin' lines... smiles... movement of the iris... infact every push of a button is traced right back n' right there. n' they come up with the right thing. clever bastards!