I would give strange accents to all my favourite fictional characters. And some real negative characteristics too.
Like Buck would be susceptible to random bouts of morose self-introspection while Gulliver would have delusional anorexia and Birbal would have excess flatulence and the Count (of Monte Cristo) would suffer from touerrettes and so on and so forth.
Then I would get all the characters in one room and make them fight. Until death.
Or something like that….may be they could all get drunk and have a fun night and wake up the next morning wondering why/what they did and who was responsible and why there was purple paint on the ceiling and whose undies were hanging from the chandelier and why were so many people dresses up as cops etc etc.
I have a weird obsession with switches. I think every switch is actually a “secret” switch which does weird shit that you just do not know about it. So actually, you may think you are just switching on the fan but in reality you just killed a somalian pony.
Switches are souls in limbo then.
It is terribly easy (or it is terribly easy at this point of time) to spout utter and total nonsense without giving a thought to the consequences and/or the reality of the situation. Its a bit like having an unruly teenager as your thoughts. Completely unpredictable, mostly indifferent and prone to random bouts of running about and tripping on specifically banned substances.
Dinner last night was at this newly opened place called Nagaland’s Kitchen down in Green Park (Upahaar cinema complex). Think of gently smoked pork and fiery pork curry and some lovely, chewy pork fat and some steaming hot rice and your mouth going “munch crunch” with every bite of deliciously crisp chilly pork. And gentle rock (America, Eagles) playing in the background and the only thing missing being a nice, big mug of beer.
As I was telling a corporate (whore) friend of mine, we get paid a little too less for what we do, although (to be honest) I started the sentence by saying that they get paid a little too much for what they do.
Boss gave me a fresh matter to do. It felt fucking amazing. A proper, fucking high. The outcome was not positive but it was not negative either. Got some more time to file some additional documents and then the matter will be heard again.
I could do this for a living methinks…as long as I can run back to my words in times of darkness and bright light.