Showing posts with label bottoms of my trousers rolled. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bottoms of my trousers rolled. Show all posts

Monday, November 23, 2009

Bird on the wire


It's strange weather. It get's cold, then hot and then it rains and gets cold again.

Right now, I'm supposed to "reposition" an ad. Maybe I wouldn't have to if they just let me "position" it in the first place. But like many things, this too followed the general brief of - "Dumb it down" - and hence.
I needed a little bit of a change a few days ago, so I went out by myself to buy some books and generally strolled around the city. I bought way too many books, which I know I probably even won't have time to read, but still, it felt nice just to have them. I went to the Magazine store to check out the Persian cat, but he wasn't there. I quite like that cat. Then I went to another store to buy some face scrub and kajaal, because I needed it. There is no point to this really.

I wish sometimes, I didn't have any of the post adoloscent existential angst. I wish I could be as happy as it seems on paper without having to dig and analyse and mutilate. Or maybe, I wish that I could just channel it differently. Yes, I think that's what I would like very, very much. I don't like this vegetable at all.

On Saturday, same day as my solitary excursion, I spent the afternoon pleasantly stoned, as gloomy Saturday afternoons are meant to be spent. I had my yellow table lamp on, and the room was clean and toasty. I had a sudden urge to read Eliot - I hadn't for months now.

So I read The Selected Poems, the one with my mother's pencilled scrawls, and I felt all, "Aha, yes"ish. I read the last stanza of Prufrock and thought of Marcello, from La Dolce Vita, and how he couldn't hear the girl at the beach. And then of course, because we all think we're poets, I thought about myself. It was a pleasant stoning.

After reading his recent post, I wonder why I'm really stalling this quitting process. Maybe, because my Dad asked me to hold on for a few more days. Till I get something new. Maybe. Or like many things, I'm too afraid to take a chance. I'm too happy being miserable. Is that it? I don't know. I think I just like to not do anything. That's that really. I just like to sit on a wire, bobbing up and down, and watch as the world passes me by. And I'm quite excellent at it, if I may say so myself.