It’s a vile surge of anger, rushing to your head in a blinding flash. Pope’s dangerous little knowledge was producing that primal emotion that the rational me (better known as the pussy) forever endeavours to subvert. But, this time there is little restraint. I can’t hear what he’s saying. All I see is an enemy. My hands bashing his brains into the wall with manic barbarism. I shake it off my head, and a few minutes later, it’s the more familiar feeling of embarrassment. Of being shamed. Of being laughed at. More human, less primal, I console myself. I’m a loser, but at least I’m not a testosterone-charged ape. There, there.
I’m trying my very best. It’s the funniest I can get without referring to human excrement. It’s been a full hour- give me one full laugh, please. I’ve reduced peaches of men to rolling heaps, and more than just the odd woman, too. The distance, though, just keeps growing, and the vibes only get colder. And there it is again, a little spike from the spine growing into a raging monstrosity. I could take that chair and...
The ape inside thinks we social animals are such pansies. Bloody poofs, the whole lot.
P.S.- This is a fictional account based on true events. Or vice-versa. And stuff.
(Originally posted on March 12, 2011 at 2:53 a.m.)
5 weeks ago
5 comments:
Mujhe samajh nahin aaya
:S
Damn, I would have enjoyed a good fight. Violent streaks are always amusing when you are not the one getting beaten up.
You wanted to beat up Pinky? :O
@ Anunya
Pata hai. As Himesh puts it so beautifully, it's complicated.
@ Krownose
Of course, they are. You get so much action in your year. Our year has lost its streak, sadly.
@ Kondrews
Haha, no. Not yet. :)
"It’s the funniest I can get without referring to human excrement."
Bhaisaab. Someone really did tick you off bad.
And of course, the post script doesn't make sense.
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