Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Scratching is addictive
When a mosquito bites and you touch the sting place, scratching is addictive, until it gets red, swollen, sore and it hurts. People hurt as well when they become so addictive that you wait to see them the whole day, the last moment of departure and just see and smile and fade away. The ones you want to invest time and energy into are just too dazed, lost and indifferent. But what do Chamko? Confounded, so many special people change, so many lives... where were you when we were getting high. So I am bored. I could shine every man's shoes and comb his moustache, iron every cassock and still you wouldn't come. Am I the only sad song around? All this inadequate feeling about self just gets on to me! Yes, I ain't good or special or pretty or brainy enough. But Mister Carl Rogers, come and show me unconditional positive regard! Where is it? I painted, I could feel eyes going up and down the staircase gazing beyond, the gaze on my canvas almost mirrored and telling me, we are looking at you! Scratch the niche of the elbow. Those mosquitoes keep company when you feel like a jilted wife of bathe. I can almost feel red fishnets up my thighs and smeared joker rouge on my face. Eh, who said I grew up? Who thought anyone could ever grow out of basic human things like love and rejection, blushing, dreaming, dejection, luna rides and the addictive habit of scratching balls. No, it is for both, for the other it is an attempt to annoy. Write more later on same.