Ermm....

Incoherent scraps of thought, without a beginning or an end, ran through my mind – one image after another.

Numb.

Too tired to even open my eyes, I strained my ears to listen. I tried to feel the ground below. Was so brain dead that I couldn’t figure out what it was.

Drained.

After wrestling with myself for more than two hours, I open my eyes. I let the images sink in, slowly. The curtains, the television, the guitar, my bed, dazed Bozo and finally the fan.

Relief.

What am I doing on the floor? The only voice that doesn’t startle me is my own. Being constantly engaged in monologues, one tends to recognize and be comfortable with one’s voice only. Only.

Withdraw.

There is a fine line between denial and faith. I’ve heard someone say that before and I second that. Everybody flirts with faith. It’s convenient. Thank you God, for making sure I was in my room and not someplace else.

Amen.

I know I’m not a hero. I reckon there are too many of them these days. Bozo- my tiny, skinny dog is one. His timorous disposition may want you to think otherwise though. I believe he was a Jedi once. I have my reasons.

Shut up!

I can hear water trickling in the loo. I’ve always liked the sound water makes, irrespective of its form. Its soothing, like the state I am in now. Smirking at the rusted fan, I remind myself of the ‘connection’ we have. Yeah, whatever.

Indifferent.

How does one get through life without churning at oblique criticism?
Heck! How do I know?
Surrounded by all these insolent people and putting up with an avalanche of bull shit every single day?

D’oh.