Where the poison drips down slowly, sorta like honey but with less of an after taste

The honey after-taste is so under appreciated. It is quite the nice me thinks.

After-taste is like a very recent memory.

Fuck. Memory. You think memories stand in line, according to height order in the brain? One single line of memories, stretching from the honey you just had to the time when the doctor pulled you out and spanked you right in the bum. You think you can fuck around with that order? You think they get older than that, to when you were a really bad idea between two people who ought to have not gotten that drunk?

Heyzoos kro, why the dark side kro why the dark side.

Because I am Batman.



I would not want to be Batmans’s shrink. Or even his speechwriter. fucker is barely understandable half the time. Can you imagine writing an entire speech of short sentences?

“Ladies and Gentlemen. Where is heeeee? Whoooo are you?”


Fuckleshwar is what happens when you intend to go to Mahableshwar but end up in Mahim. Mahim East that too.

Ooooo east versus west. Fuck global relations, I am talking about our very own Mumbai right here bitches.

Apart from Andheri (which is fubared on both sides), west is usually a bit more uppity and nice. No actually bycullah is also pretty cool on both sides. And Dadar has a pretty useful east and west side.

Split personalities.

Where are you going with this?


I am going nowhere, I am just going to stick me bum into the sand and watch the giant giant waves rumble and grumble their way towards the land.

Have you ever seen the sea raging in the rains? Raging and breathing and shaking with anger. Quite beautiful.

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3 Responses to Where the poison drips down slowly, sorta like honey but with less of an after taste

  1. Shreya Singh says:

    Batman’s Shrink?
    I’ve been trying to understand what your posts are all about. I think there lies my mistake.

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