@n()+her $h!++y D@y ^!^ #R@nD()m

Another day in my life, you are welcomed. I got my lazy ass out of bed around 10 am after sleeping for more than ten fucking hours. And yet there was no contentment. Life is a total waste when you experience either one or both of the following things –

You sleep and still wanna sleep and when you don’t sleep, you build castles in air and fantasise about your future that actually is in a goddamn dilemma.

There is no pleasure experienced in one of the most amazing activity a person can single (maybe double) handed-ly do that is commonly referred to as jerking off and doctors call it masturbation.

I have been experiencing both since last one week. Pseudo Anhedonia.

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The picture above signifies what Bobby Deol did in pro wrestling league. Nothing. Read further and don’t think much, some people are simply born that way.

I woke up, went to bathroom and dumped huge shit in toilet bowl. I don’t know why the western toilet was brought in our vicinity when Indian one is greatly relaxing and soothing. I felt happy when my shit was flushed. After all, I had some burden released off of my already unscheduled life. Anyways, I felt good as one of the tasks was accomplished in my day while I knew the rest of my day will be spent in bullshitting and procrastination.

I walked towards the park to get some exercise done. When I don’t wanna do anything, I at least get my ass wet with sweat and my throat aching with thirst. That gives me a sense of satisfaction that only me and my muscles can feel and cherish. I don’t know what bragging is and I’m not a braggart.

I came back and ate something that my grandmother cooked. Later she told me that was turnip. I couldn’t puke it out. An honest man got cheated by his grandma. When you don’t wanna have something because you don’t wanna have it, people find ways to shove it down your food pipe. This is what the culture of India is all about, forced selling of things that are useless and forced feeding of food that is hated. In my grandma’s eyes I could later see the joy that a marketer feels after completing his/her given tasks.

Then I sat in silence and later brushed my teeth. You only live once and having teeth with you in that lifetime is not just a necessity but a compulsion. Then I thought of writing some poem on the eve of valentine, but then I realised it was not worth it. I already had a date with my quilt and that was getting late. I went to bed and slept again while my phone was on flight mode. Who says I sleep alone? I got my Nokia Lumia 520 who sleeps besides me. And she was hot after I got that charger pin in her bottom hole!

While I lay there, I wondered why we don’t have a day for self. When you make and buy gifts for yourself. And I slept. No, I gave myself the gift of deep nourishment of neurons while my gut processed what I had consumed. Whoever invented afternoon naps was really lazy indeed, grateful I am to that person.

I woke up around 3 when I had to meet my friend for business work. Before I left I went to pee and felt a great sense of release from burden(s) of my life. I went in bus to the place of meeting we decided and on the way I witnessed a total dumbass man staring at another man who was crushing his tobacco. People who stare at stupid shit are weird, as soon as I had this enlightened thought, I stopped staring at that staring man. Sigh of relief.

Then me and my friend were walking in park discussing things that did not revolve around business when we came across a monkey bar resembling nonsense bar with triangular handles. I knocked off a dozen pull-ups while he was trying to lift more than one quintal of his body weight with his arms. He was doomed to fail at pull-ups, I later on concluded looking at his literally huge ass.

Then his brother came and we talked about business and I began speaking in English. I threw in my natural accent and some fancy lines so that I could make a long-lasting impression on that guy. He was (and still is) a well accomplished 26 year old dude. He was taller than both of us and good-looking than most men I’ve seen in my life. I was pleasured to see him and he was pleasured to listen to my mind-set and our ambitions. We also had tandoori momos which were less satiating and more hurtful to pocket than to body. His bro paid the bill, so that’s ok and I drank lemon juice when I got back home. All well. I was sober when I returned home I guess. I am not really sure though.

I was passing from the outside of a pan shop and I had a moment of realisation. This is indeed the best marketing line after Buddha’s, “It worked for me, you try it for yourself” saying.

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A man with loose hanging gut and plump cheeks was drinking lemon soda. While I clicked the pic he said to the pan wala, “What is better than delighting your tongue with delicious food?” The pan wala replied with a nothing and a nod in confirmation. Then I wondered why people drink and smoke when there’s more to life than that. Ironically, I was not fully sober at that time.

Then I had dinner and listened to my friend who was frustrated with his life. I asked questions and he spoke and spoke. Then I stayed glued to my phone to avoid that feeling of pain I had felt when I had seen in evening a bearded guy in suit with bouquet in hand walking with pride towards his angelic love from heaven. I thought of writing some metaphor which didn’t turn out to be as great as I wanted, but it was just fine I guess. I was satisfied, damn those who didn’t understand that.

Time is going fast my dear, spoke the clock

You hang there and try to decide the fate of a person by ticking so light while I rotate so hard, replied the fan

The man in room had to go out with his valentine, he switched off the fan and left while looking at the clock.

At night I was again on phone for more than an hour venting out my feelings and emotions. When frustrators become frustratee, that’s where all the fun is.

A day passed and I planned some things to do in coming week. I hope things don’t change and I stay in my quilt for a few more minutes. Why do you have to rise every day? Take a break dear sun! That was pun-y.

Why do people write blogs when they can narrate their experiences to somebody? Not enough people are there to listen to stories, somebody told me once. Sadly, she was right.

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