Psychotic Wannabe

Aug 4, 2017 12:00 am Grey t-shirt and faded denim. That's what she wore. Surprisingly, what adorned her upper part of the body is the detail I noticed much later. With her back turned towards me, the faded denim-ed bulge was where I lost my thoughts. I couldn't believe my good luck to be in the presence of such blinding magnificence. I was lost in that way too long to actually feel sorry and shame. I was reminded of Ragamuffin. Especially, the ill-fated date. She standing in front of the mirror. Stretching herself (Was she standing on her toe?), tying up her hair, the immense butt ostensibly overstepping the laws of physics. There was an unmistakable urge to walk up to her, surprise her with a hug and bury my lips into her neck and shoulder. Unfortunately, if she was giving hints, I was a total idiot to miss every single one of them. I walked away from her apartment, disappointed in myself and supposedly disappointing her. Maybe I should stop gazing this beautiful ...

Aug 3, 2017 11:00 pm When the Douche steps out, the first piece he performs is the fixing his headphones. His are the kind of headphones where one of the ears goes around the back of your head. One might ask, "Why the hate over headphones? He's just being considerate." I disagree. A group of four people walk on the streets and keep you company. If you believe in something resembling a code, you'd have the fucking decency to be a good company. And you are not if you intend to mount the headphones. If it's hour for lunch and you wanted to catch up on your missed phone calls I'd understand. But you keep it away when you're done. The remnants of the douchebaggery still decorating your shoulder irks me. 

The panic rising gives way to weakness. A quick calculation giving way to more fears than expected. This is something I've feared ever since I moved to the city. With rent and food prices exploded by this move, it's hard to keep up. Maybe, it's time to move on. But the debts of past are holding me back. Promises to keep. Plans to complete. The end of the tunnel as of now has moved further away.

"You should give me the address of your barber." "Does it look good?" I ran my fingers over what was left of my hair. "Nah. I wanted to avoid the one who did such an awful job." My fingers stopped as if it touched something icky. "Don't worry. It's men-only." Not the best of come-back, I know. She already had the twinkle in her eyes which appears when she knows she had won. A short shriek from doorway. I sighed and muttered to myself, "Great." It's going to be rough couple of days for me between the two of them. I turned towards the doorway and asked to my still-giggling former friend, "What?" "Why?" "So that I can see the shape of my head" "So, why didn't you shave your head altogether?" "I'm pretty sure there is 666 engraved beneath this."