So today I went to this store to get me a few Y-fronts.
I really should have checked the colours.
After coming home and tearing the receipt I find out that one of them was RED.
Yes. Blood Red.
All of a suden I feel like a pornstar.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Friday, December 08, 2006
Euphoria
I've been falling into one of those mystifying traps that are not really traps, but corridoors to life and euphoria.
It's a feeling that's very hard to describe and nearly impossible to experience.
Everything seems perfect.
When I sit in a three-wheeler heading towards home; I feel as though I'm on a heavnely chariot powered by inter-gallactic forces - heading toward nowhere at the speed of light.
When the wind hits my face it seems as though the elements want to embrace me; they make up for their lack of form and shape by enveloping me with all they have - carbon monoxide laden oxygen.
The morning fog looks like it has been holding treasures in it's midst since time immemorial, only for my ultimate unravelling.
Looking at the wall clock I feel as though time has come to a standstill; the clock ticks, the earth spins around, but time is at a standstill.
Sitting here in office in the dead of the night I feel like I'm the centre of the Universe.
I can go on and on, but my thoughts are travelling faster than I can type.
Everything else seems trivial - getting a job, procreation, a good haircut - everything. That's why it is really impossible to experience- we keep getting lost in such trivialties of life.
It's a trap because you never want to get out of it- I know I don't want to.
I can't describe this feeling anymore. I don't want to. Words can do no justice to this.
It's a feeling that's very hard to describe and nearly impossible to experience.
Everything seems perfect.
When I sit in a three-wheeler heading towards home; I feel as though I'm on a heavnely chariot powered by inter-gallactic forces - heading toward nowhere at the speed of light.
When the wind hits my face it seems as though the elements want to embrace me; they make up for their lack of form and shape by enveloping me with all they have - carbon monoxide laden oxygen.
The morning fog looks like it has been holding treasures in it's midst since time immemorial, only for my ultimate unravelling.
Looking at the wall clock I feel as though time has come to a standstill; the clock ticks, the earth spins around, but time is at a standstill.
Sitting here in office in the dead of the night I feel like I'm the centre of the Universe.
I can go on and on, but my thoughts are travelling faster than I can type.
Everything else seems trivial - getting a job, procreation, a good haircut - everything. That's why it is really impossible to experience- we keep getting lost in such trivialties of life.
It's a trap because you never want to get out of it- I know I don't want to.
I can't describe this feeling anymore. I don't want to. Words can do no justice to this.
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