I Found My World

Why is that sometimes time simply stops moving and this happens especially when you are sitting on a hot afternoon in a state transport bus with sun glaring on your face and all that you can do apart from cursing this god damn weather is to stare at your watch and hope for those needles to move a bit faster. That’s not the end of it, it’s been two days now since I got back home and apart from watching infinite hours of sitcoms and reading a zillion page sage about some insidious plot to abduct U.S president and socializing with some girl from Barbados all I have done is to stare at that clock and hope against the hope for it to work a bit faster. Past few days have been a blur and now basking in my state of perpetual abeyance I am finding it really hard to adept myself with the sedentary pace and with the time I have got all that I seem to do is think and it would have been alright had I been thinking about myself and the way my life is going to be but more often than not I find myself thinking about people whom I have so gladly left behind, people such as my friends or acquaintances and so on. Past sure has its way of catching up with you, no matter how deep you bury it, it always claws its way up. Anyways a lot has conspired in the last few days, I got a job for starters so I guess I could remove that other blog and I threw a party for my friends albeit it wasn’t that big actually as six of us contributed and had it been my way I would have chosen to spend the night watching some chick flick with a box of tissues and a tub of ice cream then to sit and endure almost endless hours of alcohol talks with a bottle of almost revolting orange juice to sip on but that wasn’t the end of it, once the bottles ran dry the so called you-have-got-placed party turned itself into who-could-cry-the-loudest contest and believe me to watch almost every other of your friends cry is something that calls for much more than an iron heart. Whomsoever said that men’s don’t cry hasn’t ever heard about the bonds of testosterone and men’s are worst than babies when it comes to crying especially when they are drunk because to placate them you have to clip shut your nose otherwise you run a very high risk of puking or passing out from that miasmic odor of alcohol mixed with the smell of chicken and the overflowing gutter nearby. If I could I would have kicked almost every other of those cry babies that night but I was afraid of them remembering it all the other day, so I just kept to myself and sipped my juice which almost tasted and smelt like nail polisher remover and I bet even that counterfeit liquor would have tasted better than it. I went back to sleep and the next day I left for my home and well that’s it, apart from the fact that train got late by four hours and last night I went along with my family and had dinner at one of my father’s colleague’s place and after the dinner my father ended up puking for the entire night, I don’t have anything to write about. I could for sure tell you tits and bits about my life and propensities but I already have said enough I think and I really don’t want to overwhelm you lesser mortals with my life stories.