If I wrote in caps "READ THIS" ,would you?

RTFA Disclaimer: Searching for meaning? You probably wont find it here, I didn't.

It's strange that I turn to this site, one which I once derided as being psuedo-arty and so below my dignity to visit and contribute to. Life's got this strange way of leaping up behind up behind you with and startle you into submission at times when you thought everything was going just fine.

"Been a long time since I rock and rolled" crooned Plant an eternity ago. Been a long time since I turned myself inside out and saw what was going on. It's strange how we go through almost our whole lives trying to ignore those little truths and tell ourselves they dont matter. Sure they do. So you thought that Akanksha whom you loved in the 8th grade (jeez..grade..what a few years of american education do to a perfectly respectable guy) dosent matter anyome. Wrong. Wrong. To digress for a second, didnt you just love the way the bad guy in some movies did this wrong routine? He'd go "Wrong" with a little smile and an emphasis on the "nnnng" and shoot the poor little whining hero(sic) in the face. Awesome. _endthread()

Much easier to kill my threads of thought when Im writing, try doing this with two more seriously drunk dudes staring at the ceiling at 4 in the morning, you'll never get back to where you were, and who cares anyway? et tu Azu and Toch.

So returning to Akanksha and her cherubic 8th grade smile. She does matter, as does the last job you got kicked out from or the guy who gave you the finger while driving to work this morning. You just shelved all this in some archaic filing system and thought you'd never have to deal with again. Wrong again. You are the sum total or these experiences, good or bad. They sure as hell didnt happen so you could collect brownie points in the little self-pity black book god, or whoever is in charge, maintains. Aah irrelevant comments enclosed in commas, the true mark of a writer who has learnt to bullshit with panache. I'll make it yet.

So we definately prove one thing, even cynical and highly frustrated have a natural and uncontrollable urge to be heard. Maybe someone out there crazy enough or suffering the same alcohol induced delusions can connect. "TeeeTaaaDhiiish". The sound of modem connecting, aah true bliss. I'm torn between throwing some more jargon into this and confusing the hell out of anyone hung around till this point. Tommorow morning I'll do my laundry, cook my lunch and return to conformism. The sickly smell of the world, refusal, taints of the ratrace, expectation will assail me.

Dont get me wrong, I love the game, thats why I wrote this song. In a phrase borrowed from another person in another time domain, Bas aur Nahin.