Ho-Hum

Listen.

Listen to me now.

Listen because its too early. Its too late.

Shono.

They are in my head. These things.

Listen before these other things overpower me.

They just did.

Happy New Year. For all the things we had and didn't this year. For Orange Skies and Colorblinds and Jee Kardas and apple-bottom jeans. For the Fall-Out Boy and the 20 grand girl. For the dirty whore. For the greensunglass mamuni.For Ballygunge and its lost gallis. For time that will come back never the same. different but maybe the same?

For prophecies unfulfilled. For lunches owed. For the beauty of prettycolors. For manicured haircuts and Christmas-dida-eyemakeup. For Mamu. For Russell Peters. For mental cunts. For lit-ups and light up and lighten up. For Atrium and points of no return. For the lies we tell over and over. For things that were and will be. Miss is too little(?) too much. Forgive me, Vellore--the charm of your manicured greens may never be enough.

You know, "Its true."

J.Park 8 05.

And so I did.

Wrong Company.

Sucky playlist.

AND so I did.

And SO I did.

And so I DID.

Its a week later. And I'll tell you where I am supposed to be right now. Out with friends I haven't met for over a year but I've been clamoring to for so bloody long. I was always skeptical about this reunion not living upto the expectations I had set up for it so carefully and impulsively. Today seems to be the lucky day to prove my nagging suspicions right.

So I shall watch Chink-bubblegum now.

Maybe it will get rid of this inexplicable ache in the realms of bodymind.

Maybe it will help to curb the urge to light up.

For the moment, Im just tired of being the happy one.

In 15 minutes I shall be in my last teen.

18 was good. Yet somehow not enough. Not even close.

I need vodka NOW.

I need nice prem. As in ami ekta prem korbo nice prem.

I also have college tomorrow.

Barf. Fuck. Barf. Fuck.Barfuck. Fuckbarf.