If you ask me, a year is more or less like a story, it doesn’t begin and it never ends. We just select a particular evening from which to look back and to plan ahead. Well, last night I didn’t really feel like it, so I’ll probably call it a year some other time.
All my years have been fairly eventful. Last year, this time, I was in many ways another person, and then I tumbled through various incidents, small, big, tragic, happy, big and tragic, small and happy...
Fairly eventful eh? But maybe it’s simply because a year is so long a time, something or the other is bound to happen. Then again, maybe I lead a fairly interesting life; which seems plausible, but not always.
Sometimes it’s funny how we are grateful for things we needn’t be. What choice does the sun have but to shine? And the stars? And time? Could it decide to go faster or slower or better or worse? It has no alternative but to tick. People bring in the New Year with such joy; it’s almost as if we ran the risk of it never coming.
**
I have the most irritating clock in my room. It's not a Grandfather Clock which would have been way more cool; it's my grandfather's clock. Ajanta Quartz.
TICK tick TICK tick TICK tick TICK tick.
It’s like it limps through the day. TICK tick TICK tick TICK tick.
Who the hell ever wants to know what second it is?
TICK tick TICK tick TICK tick TICK tick.
AAAARGH
TICK tick TICK TICK TICK TICK tick Tick tick TICK tick.
It enjoys this I tell you, my agony, every time I am aware of it, the ticking gets particularly elaborate and slow, an ancient yet powerful ploy of effectively driving your enemy mad - TEEEIYUCKK teeeiyuckk TEEEIYUCKK teeeiyuckk.
That, along with the depressing energy saving bulbs, drives me crazy every night. Those bulbs are evil too. They buzz. And they aren’t even lame. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. But they purposely become dim when I want to read.
The clock is lucky it belonged to my grand father. But someday someone is going to lose an arm. And no one will notice.
BECAUSE WHO THE HELL EVER WANTS TO KNOW WHAT SECOND IT IS?
TICK ZZZ tick ZZZ TICK ZZZ tick ZZZ TICK ZZZ tick.
The bulbs are lucky I am all for saving energy and hence Mother Earth, BUT NOT FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!
**
I think I must stop aimlessly floating through blogs of other people. I am so sick of reading ornate sentences that mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. Zilch. They aren’t funny or sad, or general or even random. They are nothing. I am sorry, I am no writer, and feel free to trash how I write, but sample this…
“As I walked through what appeared nothing more than a dream with the sun crashing down on me and my day I wanted to reach into my cold thoughts for those tiny purple fish, my short-lived hopes and despair. But then I spoke of him to myself and the conversation carved pretty blue and tiny ripples across my life and I smiled.
I will never be yours.
I cried.”
“What the??” “FUCK” “Who are these people???”
And I am sorry, but women are more to blame here, they pick a collection of words like azure, loco, fable, and then just spread it across a post. Think about it, a post like that, a senile ticking clock and evil bulbs.
I am positively frightened of the New Year already.
**
A lot of people say your year will turn out as good or bad as the first day. I think it’s a load of crap. But just to be on the safe side, I haven’t had a bath, answered my phone or worked; I have been in bed all day and have eaten like a pig, also I watched Maléna, and like Renato I was fascinated by the general purity of her soul and the naked scenes, and I am writing a post!!
TICK tick TICK tick TICK tick Tick tick TICK tick.
Enough. Sorry Grandpa!
**
Oh by the way, that paragraph, I made it up using obscure words, some absurd phrases and lyrics by Cream. Sorry, Cream. But I swear; the net is full of such writing. It’s really exasperating.
**
The Coffee Song - by Colton and Smith
Theres a full time reservation
Made in a sort of bar at some location,
And theres a story, a kind of fable,
On a card at the corner table.
On it is a message; been there some time.
It starts off, the coffee tasted so fine...
It says, one day, this may find you,
These few words may just remind you.
We sat here together just to pass time;
You said how the coffee tasted so fine.
It goes on to say, I love you.
If you should find this I must hear from you.
It gives a number but the name has faded away.
All that is left are just the words, maybe someday...
Thats the story and the fable;
Never leave alone from a corner table.
Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo.
Doo doo-doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo.
**
I can't stop editing this post, or eating LOTTE Choco Pies (yum), or listening to Cream.
I'm finally listening to lyrics.
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1 comments:
hahahaa, here's a more authentic and original one.
Darkness is a curse because it gives birth to everything that light refuses to conceive. I have been removed from light so that all that was to be will be. My mind has fought with the inevitability. In horror, I accept it now. Ironically, it wasn't the light but the dark that made the answers so clear. I now know what people meant when they said I was 'strange.' I now see the meaning of the look in their eyes. I have hated it. I have hated the light that made them see what they did. Yet was not a part of me waiting for the dark to fall? Was this not the shy child's unspoken desire? Well, the dark has fallen now, for once and all.
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