Saturday, February 06, 2010

Ramblings of an intoxicated bumpkin.

Warning: excuse the banal prolixity of this post, it is one of those where the introduction is longer than any actual substance, but what can I say, I am an airhead not unlike this certain classmate of mine, who is as hot as superheated plasma [oops, my science-tourette's is acting up again] Just looking at her makes me lose the blood supply to my brain. Yeah, I did, and you know what I meant.

It is all about enduring the agony,
perchancel; I am a masochist? - S.K. Meer

Which is funny considering the fact that I have zero tolerance for pain.
I remember twelfth standard biology or senior year as people here in the US call it, where we had to prick our own finger to test for our blood type, I was the last guy to be able to do it, even the girls who sat with me made fun of the fact that I was not able to puncture my own skin, but come on... Who likes punching a hole in their own finger? I know I don't.

I would have asked the professor to do it for me had I not seen that she kinda stabbed the one guy who did ask for her help, with the lancet-thing, with a vengeance; like as if he had just knocked up her daughter.

Artist's rendering of what said professor looked like on that fateful day.

Anyway, I was speaking to a friend, saying that I like keeping the fact that I like someone from that person. This silly, needless martyrdom gets me off I think. Maybe I am in love with falling in love and pining for someone. What pathetic nonsense is this?

Artist's rendition of your author, he was asked to go a little light on the ugliness.

But then, how do you chase someone when she isn't running from you?

Anyway what I really want to talk about; I had another one of those strange moods today.

And this is how it happened as always:

I suddenly stopped doing whatever I was doing,
like as if I suddenly lost my purpose.
which is funny; purpose? who has any purpose anyway?
life has no goal, and no, being 'successful' in the normal materialistic sense has as profound a meaning as the swirls in Paris Hilton's new hairdo.
Jokes aside, so you just live your life the best you can and maybe have a little fun while at it. And, then I snap back from this day dream, back to the rat race where no one is going anywhere too soon but you want to run. And I laugh just as the silly feeling I just had fades away. At my insignificance. For now.

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