Chuck it. Very Chetan Bhagat-ish.
Passions in life...
Screw it. Passion and me don’t get along well.
My job life...
Fuck it. My job sucks. The post will suck even more.
Today, I’m sitting here and the very last thing on my mind is to write something. I start to write. I stop immediately, always excusing myself to not write. (By the way, the excuses are real.) I just want to sleep all day or do something completely mindless. Anything, but write. My mind has had it, and is playing tricks on me – as it usually does. And, it has been playing around for quite a while now.
They call it a writer’s block. I call it a writer’s block, too. Just that – it’s in a critical condition. Oh, come on... A block cannot stay for 7 long months. A block of cement doesn’t stay for that long. Or, can it? Maybe... I don’t know.
I've tried a trillion and one times to post, literally. I've sat down and stared at the screen a gazillion times. Just to realise that I’m staring at some chat window or someone else’s blog who has written a heartfelt poem or a chat window or MS Word or a chat window or some other blogger who’s used the same subject to fill up the space in their blog or a chat window, you know.
I feel bad for my blog. I feel bad it’s not getting to live its life, entirely. I thought let me recharge it. Let me put some soul in it. See... See... See... I knew that this would arouse no interest after a point. So before I kill you with my words, let me finish this jabardasti ka post.
PHEW! I’m done.
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