Wasted most of the morning in unsuccessfully trying to eke out greater meanings from the mundane. Since the overkill of an effort in trying to get the oil to spread evenly over the surface of the frying pan too did not oblige much in that direction, I decided to concentrate on the lesser intellectual pursuit of trying to fix up a quick and dirty breakfast. In the process I did discover one culinary truth -- the longer you spend in trying to spread the oil more evenly the better things get fried without sticking to the pan.
Unfortunately, truths do not have much of an effect on my trademark clumsiness and with a very sad heart I must inform you that my six month old streak of perfect bull's eyes was broken today. A moment of silence was observed for the prematurely popped yellow as it went about exploring various areas of the pan hitherto inaccessible to it.
Cryptic or forthright and in your face? How do I write here? Honestly, I think I have overdone the cryptic bit to the extent of things starting to look laughable even for me. But forthrightness takes a lot of courage and the potential pitfalls are a dime a dozen on the personal front. Also the fact that little bit that I have by means of courage is still recuperating from yet another unnecessary misadventure means that I can't really count much on that too.
I am broodish, I sulk a lot, I am hypersensitive and optimism and me never look each other in the eye and I am not the best person you can ever know. But then, that is me, there is a no return/refund policy on this product, you are stuck with what you have got. Got a good mind to whine my heart out right now, but does it really matter? No, it does not. So will save it for one of those long solitary bike rides.
Who are you stranger? Why are you reading all of this? Do you have a face, a name or a memory I can remember you with? Can I do a funny jig for you? Can I make you laugh? Can I entertain you? Scroll up and down, read carefully from left to right, does it make any sense? It does not, right? My sentiments exactly. These are not puzzles, I am not using any fancy language or analogies to obscure anything right now, but this is as clear as things are to me right now.
My fingers are freezing, can hardly feel them clattering on the keyboard now. During the course of the week, discovered a lovely blog, this chap has a habit of writing really long and in such a way that it almost feels as if he is thinking out loud, but without boring you to death which is what happens when I try to do the same. Speaking of boredom, I must tell you about the "last man standing" record that stands in my name. Every booze party that I have been to, I am always the last one to be left talking. In other words, I talk other people off to sleep. I am your next sleeping pill. Wish they would colour me orange than something like a yucky viagra blue. Pink is a definite no no. Deja vu would not be a bad name too.
There really must be something really wrong. I am listening to Missy Elliot now and actually liking it. Go away!! Where are my ear plugs? Did I mention I am doing hardcore trance too? No, please rest easy I am not doing ecstasy, other than the health warning, something tells me it is not a good idea to be doing news in an overexcited state of mind. But a shot of Vodka with the juice of one fresh lemon, ice and a green chilli split down the middle is a great way to beat the cold. No, not at work again. Did that once and it was a miserable experience that I do not want to remember.
I must wrap this thing up with my second find of the week as I am really short on sleep and the mug of tea is empty now. It is the music of James Asher and the track is called as Natraj Express. The music is basically slotted into the new age category but I really do not give a damn, it just sounds so good. The track has a girl singing this
Rajasthani Gujarati folk song ( have not verified that) as the main bit and lots of percussion samples and sitar mixed in. Can get you dancing in no time, not that I can, still it does strange things to your limbs.