Breaks and Reminders

Cannot stop reminding myself how stupid I am. I accept, okay ?! That seems to settle it. Now, I can breathe free and write what I want to.
There are a lot of stops. Drinks breaks, unwarranted breaks, unreasonable ones and so on. Well, infact, the only thing there is, are breaks. The only thought that I keep reminding myself I have is ' I want to break free ' . Ofcourse, I have no idea what it is that I want to get away from. Given the oppurtunity, I think it would be myself.
I hope I could 'stand-by' and get up after this academic year ends. Well, its not as if I am not trying but mother keeps waking me up.
Now, there is this chemistry ma'm I am answerable to for not attending (the classes) for the past one month. I try to convince myself that I dont have to give any excuse because I am beyond her jurisdiction. They say there is something called social etiquettes. A thing quite hard to conceive.
Then there is this maths sir whose classes I have been not attending for, well, the past one month too. And to him, I am not answerable coz even he doesn't know it. But there is this lingering fear that he would catch me by the scruff of the neck oneday. Whoof......
And here I am sitting. Can't stop from putting on a smile, in hindsight. Uthaale ya phenk de, le le ya chod de
Then there is this small business of a career which everybody reminds me of.

There is this frustration of hurting the near and dear ones. The guilt that refuses to go away. I retort, to no avail. I refuse to accept, with the same result. I do nothing but make a big fuss about it and confess to the person I like confessing to, yet without any use. I dream of being a footballer just so that I could get away from this. I crave for a company that I get. So now I crave for anything that I could genuinely feel hard done by. I dream of being a successful writer, so that I can do the thing I like the most, which is, nothing. For that, I have to move men's hearts. Why can't you bloddy assholes read all that I am writing and be in awe of it and give me a job offer. Preferably, 30k per month salary.
Rot, rot, rot. Pester, pester, pester I don't know what more to say. Drifting off from truth, masking everything by revealing the mask. Suffocating purely because of no reason. Just suffocating because I claim myself to be suffocating. Accusing myself of being a dufus, an illiterate, someone who only sleeps, eats, and the other primal things. The only thing that I like is to be entertained. Is it much ? Can't sustenance and entertainment go hand in hand. I know its my outlook thats causing every trouble.

Well, Give me a break. A smile and shake of the head

Musings of a Ringworm Infected Underwear.

Inflated , Deflated.
Elated , Depressed.
Irritated , satisfied.
Boiled , spiralled out.
What more ? What next ?

Fast-paced / Flash-backward

Someone interrupts the confessions. Caught unawares, subject says she was speaking to an alarm. The alarming inability of the subject to lie straight-faced baffles me. The consequences lie in wait.

Now, I am jumping down aisles. James Bond has stepped on the gas. Quite unlike him, I finally manage to sit down on a vacant seat in the rear balcony. While all he has to worry about is existence, I've got to be wary of the ticket inspector.

I see Ganguly fend off the ball with his pads. I look at what he has scored . 32* . And suddenly it dawns on me going for the Quantum wouldn't be a bad idea. Grab the first shirt and 200 Rs.

I have a flashbang in my hands. I throw it wide out. Quite unexpectedly, I become blinded by it. I badly want to go for that gaming thinggy. I see a counter-terrorist's head poke from those crates. Didn't quite get the headshot.

The football blinks at me. Then, to my foot. A dribble and a cross aimed at no one particular. Sneer from the opposition, disappointment from mine.

Pulse races. My body oscillates. Wired to the subject responsible, through analog signals. Voices, sweet, excited, run amok.

I cross the ball, the leg gets it. Netted again. Greeted with cheers. Someone from opposition remarks ' Mark him. Else, if he gets it beyond the half, just add the tally'. I warm up to them.

Now, I think about the movie 'Memento'. I think of the scene they show the whole video running backward but the sound runs forward. How would it be if I were to put it into writing ?