What I want, is some nice strong coffee. Though I've already had that in the morning.
What I also want is a nice jobless day alone. With coffee and a book.
I guess I need to be older, richer and independenter.
No exit.
(That was a coincidence. But read it anyway when you can. Its a nice play.)

You know what I'd really like to do? Break someone's favourite flower vase or coffee mug or something. And not say a word about it. Mean kind of mood. Wish I could actually do such stuff in reality. Sometimes. (I get the feeling I wouldn't want to given a chance. Wuss.)

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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