Insufferabilities.
This is a short thoughtwrite about how my life can be SO SO insufferable.
What follows is a response to a request to write a story chronicling my evening. Ignore the skilled incompetence in the way I have collated information into a ‘story’ of sorts.
29th August 2014 – 2130 to 2220 hours
“You don’t appreciate good music!” I said as I reluctantly turned off the amazing masterpiece that is Coldplay’s music from the telly. I hadn’t noticed but I was actually singing ‘True Love’ around two octaves higher than normal. Ah, my life. So amazingly crazy it was that I don’t notice the eccentricities.
As I came back to my existence I remembered the reason why I had turned the music up so loud. It was to drown out the infernal repetitive din of the religious festivities being carried out on the street just outside. I had hoped, when we moved here, that a third-floor apartment would help keep away from all this nonsense. Honestly, what is the point of celebrating the day an elephant’s head was magically grafted onto a kid’s head by some blue guy?
So I was cordially invited to dinner by my mother, “Hey! Come to the table this instant!” Such gentle calm politeness emanating, nay, radiating from the star of compassion and love I have never seen. I stalked over to the table, pondering existence when I saw suddenly, my phone lying exposed to the world, its bare plastic skin lying prone to the world. I dived to it, risking my life to the corner of the waist-high rosewood bookshelf that aimed devilishly at my head. At least, I thought I dived. Given my current state of physical and mental unwell-being, I probably hobbled over to it like a drunken hunchback with a stump leg.
Dinner was dry inflated pieces of seed powder paste cooked on a skillet over a liquid petroleum gas flame, accompanied by very delicious (I wish) pieces of flowerlike things of some leafy plant whose taste I could never ever get the hang of. I think a normal person would call it a cauliflower. I excused myself from the table wordlessly and limped over to the kitchen sink, cursing my legs under my breath for not being at all able to take my weight because of their godforsaken inability to take any small amounts of exertion. Seriously, one evening of long-jumping and I bear the consequences for the next four days?! How fair is that?
Blinking the slight amounts of sleep out of my eyes, I sat down to write a story chronicling my life, when along comes dear mum and comments on how its ten o’ clock already and I haven’t slept and how I used to sleep on time and wake up on time but that was before the days when I was the messed up me. Ok, that last bit, she didn’t say, but it was inferred. I replied saying that if I were to sleep on time and wake up on time, I’d not be alive right now. I wonder what logic I used to justify that statement.
Just out of passing interest and looking for a topic to write on, I opened up the browser on my computer and visited the social hub of today – facebook. Almost immediately I got pinged by this giraffe of a guy with a lion of a name – Leo. Ho ho ho, Leo was an epic novel deserving character himself. He tried his level best, bless his soul, to channel his Melman-like existence into a slight amount of what the cool guys these days called ‘swag’.
cadisri98: Do you have proper justification for your pingage?
Yep. My life. An endless question, waiting for an answer. An infinite insufferability.
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