Real.

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I wish and hope and dream that nothing is for real. even though I think and believe nothing is for real. There is this thin hope that makes me feel good every time I am scared of living. The hope that nothing is real. The hope that it is ok to be in debt. That it is ok to live in a rented apartment. That it is ok not to have a vehicle in your own name. That it is fine to be single all your life.

It is the reality that I am scared of. Real snakes. Real spiders. Real money. Real wife. Real girlfriend. Real love. After the countless dreams where i screw up in life big time, i wake up to a relief that nothing never happened.

For an insane person, nothing is never real. It is fine to screw up. unless you wake up to the reality.

To wake up an insane person is the cruelest thing you can ever do to him. Denying his un real world. denying his dreams. To wake him up just to tell him he was wrong all the way. OUR wrong.

It is fine to be insane. Its just that i wake up once in a while to realise how screwed up I am.

Dont wake me up.

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35

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When I was in my teens, I always used to wonder what I will be doing when I am 35.
Now I am 35, and I still wonder.

WTF am I doing these days?

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Answers without questions.

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So far, this year saw no posts at all from me. It means two things:

1. I am not as deranged as i used to be.
2. I am drinking less. 
3. I do not get frustrated anymore without 'right' human company

All of the above are true. My deranged mind have reached saturation, and there is no visible difference in the growth of insanity. And I am drinking less. From 8 large a day everyday, it is more of 2 large a day on a monthly average apart from occasional binge. And I do not need much of human company anymore. I am at peace with myself. 

Someone someday talked about Sex, Drugs and Rock n Roll. 

It never made sense to me at one point of time. And now it gives me new meanings. I ran around the beach naked a week back. With a free mind. Nothing mattered at that point. It was just the open night sky with lightening and thunder, a sea that roared, an equally crazy friend who spoke her amazing dreams and a bottle of port wine. It was not sex drugs and rock n roll in its literal sense, but it had all the meaning of it. 

I need more of those days. I was never in search of any meanings of life, but i am slowly getting answers without even asking questions. 

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