i feel like a vulnerable retard these days.
the facade has stopped working.
the smile faded long back.
now,only the nose cringes and the brows raise.
lips quiver occassionally.
but the howling and wailing always happen flopped on the bathroom floor.
thats my recluse.my haven.
i think every man should be entitled to a loo each.even if he didnt have any other accomodation.the loo would be his think pad,his office,his lounge and err... his loo too!
the shower is my rain maker.
rains,i have realised,bring out a new me.
the shower does close to that.
there is a freaking uncanniness in how the shower pacifies me.
the sobs get more controlled.and the tears taste less salty.
net effect:it sobers me down.

i have a mind block.nothing feels right.i cant write in proper sentences.
its as if they have broken down into disparate little phrases.

the retard has resurfaced.i see too much into people.read too much into simple lines.think out of the way.and bleed within.
masochism is a curse.
the bloody retard is a leech.it just refuses to pack bags and leave.