Monday, May 6, 2013

22:34 IST
The Cool Room Downstairs, Inderpuri
New Delhi, India

I did get fucked-bloodied-offed. They emailed. They rejected me. A well deserved rejection. Maybe I should reconsider prostitution. At least it gives money, something I quite desperately need.

I realised some things. I get these freakish fountain-like epiphanies while in the jung ka maidan. I do not read news, unless I really have to. Therefore I am not cut-out for journalism. Research - maybe. Journalism - not. Copywriting - I should try. Blogging - get your lazy bum to start something.

I have not been honest enough to myself. I try to figure a way out. Life is not like that. One can't keep figuring a way out. I need to confront myself more bluntly. Sieve the good from the bad. I do not know what I should be doing. Except for the important fact that I really need a job. I feel pretty useless. And fat. Momo.