I love words. I can’t remember them.
I thought I would buy a home in Naggar. I wouldn’t buy one. I told my friend that I would call her. I wouldn't call her.I talk daily. I don’t watch TV. The TV watches me. If deadlines were on a cricket-pitch I would have been a popular no-bowler (not the best though). I love preaching anger management. I get angry. The past is dead and buried. It haunts me sometimes. Bites like a snake. Non-venomous – for I am alive.
The dust that is there. Everywhere. Grey. White. Misty. Choking. Polluting. Eye-hurting. Irritating. I have a hanky. I have made triangles out of them and covered my nose and my mouth. I have big shades. I have put them over my eyes. The dust does little harm now. But I hear the flying, wafting, humming particles laugh at me sometimes. They know the cloth is going to go away. And so are the shades. But I pretend I don't hear them laugh. May be I don’t. I pretend my eyes never get moist. May be they don’t. I know I am alive. May be I am not.
I thought I would buy a home in Naggar. I wouldn’t buy one. I told my friend that I would call her. I wouldn't call her.I talk daily. I don’t watch TV. The TV watches me. If deadlines were on a cricket-pitch I would have been a popular no-bowler (not the best though). I love preaching anger management. I get angry. The past is dead and buried. It haunts me sometimes. Bites like a snake. Non-venomous – for I am alive.
The dust that is there. Everywhere. Grey. White. Misty. Choking. Polluting. Eye-hurting. Irritating. I have a hanky. I have made triangles out of them and covered my nose and my mouth. I have big shades. I have put them over my eyes. The dust does little harm now. But I hear the flying, wafting, humming particles laugh at me sometimes. They know the cloth is going to go away. And so are the shades. But I pretend I don't hear them laugh. May be I don’t. I pretend my eyes never get moist. May be they don’t. I know I am alive. May be I am not.
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