Goli in his infinite wisdom has forced me to trod the beaten path and vomit what may otherwise be deeply hidden (nominally) thoughts.
I am thinking about...
always thinking about things, and not getting to actually doing the things that I think I think about.
I said...
'Let there be light!' And my roomie switched on the fan.
I want to...
walk around and understand India.
I wish...
I could understand everything I want to.
I hear ...
music in everything.
I wonder...
why people stick to myths that are millenia old while being blind to reality around them.
I regret...
not, that I try to have no regrets.
I am...
therefore I think.
I dance...
when I hear some hardcore dappanguthu. Not a pretty sight I hear.
I sing...
to myself, almost every moment I can imagine.
I cry...
Can't remember when I cried last.
I am not always...
in my senses. I sleep-walk. I've done some pretty weird things if I'm woken up a little while after I sleep. My mother took advantage of this to give me milk which I'd otherwise refuse when I was awake.
I make with my hands...
drumming noises on most flat surfaces. Drives people around me nuts, sometimes. I pretend that I'm a, well budding is probably inappropriate, Sivamani.
I write...
far too much, and in way too much detail. Brevity is the soul of wit, said someone, but I'm not having any of that. I also write to express myself clearly - better than I can when I speak, which is not too bad by itself.
I confuse...
names and faces. I suck at it. :-(
I need...
to stop procrastinating and do things, at least starting on Monday.
And finally...
to pass on the tag to
Man-madhan 'cos he's a lazy bum.
Lokesh 'cos he's in a bit of a funk.
Sorry guys :-)
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3 comments:
Life is a terminal illness anyway.
No, plzzz. dnt make it terminal & rob my last hope from me
I can remember one time you cried (maybe the last???):
when that bastard of a physics lab prof refused to sign ur physics record notebook (was that what that was called???) and you sobbed so much or you pretended to...whatever machi, you got that SOB to do what u wanted :-)
Later
Vasanth
Yeah, I remember that fondly. The SoB said that record notebook's were meant to be written in ink, and gave some crap about some agreement not being signed because the fool of a prime minister didn't have some ink pen.
It was a good act I thought :-). Especially since a) Rewriting would have taken me a couple of days, b) I'd get redraw for half the diagrams again.
BTW, what about a blog yourself?
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