Thursday, April 28, 2011

Reflections on a Drunken Evening

I wanted to write today but I didn’t know what. False starts, dead ends, and incoherent beginnings was all I could conjure. I used to listen to music every waking moment; now it’s recognition of tunes I used to hum. I have become nonchalant about what I treasured the most in life. My guitar lies in a corner catching dust and I am out of rum without which my characteristic eloquence flows like the mud clogged Mithi…but who the fuck cares.

Some time back, I mindlessly answered questions about where I see myself five years hence; it’s been five years as I wait for another evening of alcohol induced apathy, that will make me numb to everything…but who the fuck cares.

I need a smoke; but I’ve stopped hanging out with those soldiers of death. Here’s to alcohol, the cause of-and solution to-all life’s problems. Now, I wait for the pain to pick me clean.

* Started writing this long back; finishing now, may not be a reflection of my current state of madness.


  1. Dude, when you figure out how to work out false starts, dead ends, and breathing in puffs in general, let me know how.

  2. For some reason when I read this all I could think of was Comfortably Numb.

  3. well comfortably numb is where I hope to get soon :)