My blog, I’ve realised, is a load of scat and gas.
Mostly it’s depressing to fully comprehend how little I’ve managed to say through such a barrage of verbiage; for the rest it’s gut-drowning embarrassing.
But before you come bustling in with boisterous good cheer and a great clucking cacophony of protest and sympathy [see how formidably foul my mood is?] consider this:
How much do you really know about my much primped and preened and strutted head?
Gotcha potcha. Ha.
Before you scratch yours and wonder aloud, allow me:
All you really know, and after over a 100 reiterations of the same in as many ways as shit can be pasted on toast, is that it houses a brain which is divided in a left lobe and a right lobe, which by some stroke of genius, yours or mine, you’ve been conned into believing is a singularly extraordinary act of deviance.
The gleaming cherry on top, of course, is the Walt Disney cutesy personality each has.
Bravo H, what a fucking fucking idea.
But do you even know what I think about Bin Laden or Godhra?
Do you know what I think about the UN policy on controlling the spread of Avian Flu?
Do you know what I think about Pratibha Patil’s election to the President’s post?
Do you know what I think about the rising price of diesel?
No Ma’am. You just know that I speak in elaborate parables of shit.
Because honestly, I don’t think about these things. I just skip like a donkey, sing like a toad, hop like a rhino as I bumble heedlessly on this highway, feeling great gushes of overreaching achievement at every arse-analogy I can squeeze through my tear ducts.
So it should come as no surprise that suddenly, with a borrowed perspective that I chanced by on the internet the other day, I’ve become acutely aware of how nothing this is. This Shout. This hollow excrement of noise in cyberspace.
I’m aghast at what you must think. You dear reader, who’s lavished your attention, time and thought on our corner here.
Are you for real?
Or are you a kinky connoisseur of such trembling whiffles of flatulence as I’ve been passing for words here?
No. Don’t answer.
Because either way beloved reader, this is to say: I cherish you. Thank you for all the appreciation. This far into our relationship, I accept you for who you are.