Page 12 of Batch of 1999

This is great. I mean great. This is happiness. This is all.. All.. All the time i just mmmm. This is great in all the ways. All the angles. I like water. I like tea. This is great. Blood is tasty too. I like that. I like kisses. mmm. All is outside the head now. All is outside. Inside is just me. This is too good. This is the limit of happiness and sadness or any other emotion or anything that one can feel. This is unbearable. This is light and heavy. Tight and savvy. Lustrous and lovely. I am flying without wings and air. I am flying in water. Cold-damp-oily water, which is flowing from everywhere to meet me only. I am not me. I am something else. I am I am. This is out of my knowledge. This is out of questions.

  Thank God that I am here. Thank God for this day and this very second of lightening. Thanks to my father who brought me in this world and thanks to the kid who fell over that cabinet. Thanks to each and every asshole who insulted and pushed me. This is out of understanding. This is nothing but the truth.

  Truth, in its purest form. Pure is the word. What would happen if all the things would get pure? There would be nothing then. There would be a pleasant zone with nothing to please. It would be a vast point which is the motive of all the things dead alive or waiting. Like touching a piece of melting-ice. When you don’t know what else to do and you don’t care. You put the ice in your mouth and it may feel good. Or you may feel like a child again and you would say that the ice is not cold. This is all about caring or not caring.

  I am feeling great. My care is died and I am single with everything else. I want to eat the walls and drink the sand. I want to jump and then lie down to think about Pythagoras theorem.

  There should be screeches and blood on my whole body for the evidence of life. I want to declare that I am alive. More than anyone else in this planet the souls and ghosts are dancing inside me and telling me that I have some privileges. There should be soil and dirt on my clothes. But there should be nothing on my face. There should be just me and me everywhere.

  Stepping out of a Mercedes and going inside a slum-house made of plastic sheets and woods to live there for whole life. Or to put the water on my eyes on high face so I can see the clouds.

  Nothing else should be done. Nothing is incomplete. Nothing is complete. Everything is as it should be. And it would be like this forever. This is too much to bear. I don’t want to see now.

  It is pleasing me to my limits. This emptiness and meaningless world. Why i don’t feel anything? Why fire and water feels the same now? Why hate and love is same? My health is so great even when i remain hungry for many days and haven’t slept for 11 days. Cigarette packs are empty. Why it is so hard to go out. How I can bring the new cigarettes without going out? There is something else in my mind too but I am forgetting that. And there would be shops and vehicles waiting for the next job to be done. There are no chances of rain today. I wish today would be rain. But I fear that my wishes don’t come true. That’s why I don’t wish no more. I can throw the money on a kid to order the cigarettes but for that, I have to talk to him. To talk, I have to open my mouth. And then I might not say what is in my mind. My mouth might ditch me like my fate. The ease of my life has increased too much in past few years. That is making me still and jamming me.

  A girl talked to me today. She tried. It stirred something inside me. It was sad. Because she wanted something important. Her voice and face told me that she was in need. She was taking calculated steps even in a pitiful task such as talking. She was thinking before saying each line and I failed to understand the real motive behind those nice words. Though, her words were ‘do you like writing with ball-pens?’ I don’t know what she meant actually.

 

  To hell with her.

  I just want to know what is going to happen now. What is the motive of my birth or if i was actually born or this is just an illusion. Is that a punishment for me or enjoyment for someone? You can never say. You can never know. You can never do anything. You can never go anywhere. You can just jump into the river and see where it would take you. And you should only be happy and sad on encountering a rock or tuna fish.

  Solid, liquid and gas. Electrons and protons. Particles. Cells. Time. Space. Sand. Soil. Water. Webs. Foods. Iron. Bucket. Aah. This is so painful. Some knowledge is useful. Some are useless and some are dangerous. One ought not to know about a few things because one is not made in a way to know the ultimate. Complex bodies can’t digest simple matter. Now that, I got all the things that are important to live decently. No need to say that I require nothing. And that is decent. Not that I know what to say. I just say what comes from inside. And people think that I am a freak or creep or something. A boy in the class actually called me this on my face. Not that I let go of such things. I am so impulsive about these matters. He lost two teeth for saying that which wasn’t much. Not because I was angry but because I was scared of this word. I didn’t want anyone to say that again to me at any cost. I told him sorry for removing his teeth and I told him that I didn’t mean it. He trusted me. I like this guy actually. He is the one of those few people who actually notice me. Not only notice but I think that I am one of the reasons he comes to the college for. Anyway, I told him that I would give him anything he wanted and he was free to take any action against me. That it would not affect my nice feelings for him. That was too much. I hope that he do take some action against me because this is a sin to break teeth of someone and I will be punished for doing that. God can never forgive you for a single sin. Look at me and you can realize. Sin comes with curse. I can’t stand one more curse. If you throw a stone at someone, a stone will be thrown at you. Probably the same stone but that is not important. If you would rape, you will be raped. Few boys may like to get raped but that is not important. If you would pick up a pencil for someone, someone else will pick your pencil even if you don’t need a goddam pencil. I don’t know why God waste his precious time in all this instead of bringing out a better system. It feels like some kind of game to me, Where every dog has its day when it can pee on another dog. So is the life.

  Right now, I am sitting on my floor and eating Maggie noodles. I am hungry and weather is normal. The temperature of the floor is matching my body heat. Everything is a match for me these days. If you would slap me, it would feel like an indistinct part of me. Do slap me to see that I am telling the truth. This is the real theory of singularity. I am a specimen.

  Sometimes I miss my classmates of school. I despised them and now I think about them sometimes. All the lunacy we used to do those days. It wasn’t that bad if I forget about some gross occasions. I have to forget everything for that. Bastards have left nothing to smile for. What they might be doing right now. Fucking bastards all of them. But that doesn’t matter much. Hope I would meet anyone of those someday and talk about golden past. A past which doesn’t seems mine at all yet is with me like a shadow and light. I wish I would wake up tomorrow and went to my old art class in school. And they would joke about me and make fun of me. Things were digestible those days. But my wishes don’t come true. Now there are no dreams and tastes. No motives and goals. I try to acquire normal life sometimes. But that is so far and difficult for me right away. Because it fills me with hate and other complex emotions. I am thinking about doing a job now. Maybe it would keep me busy or something. Just to get out of this comfort zone.

 
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