Wrong hours of office, wrong hours of food, wrong hours of sleeping, wrong hours of daily hygiene. Do all these wrongs sum up and produce a Lune? If they do, the resultant me has just entered the final stage of complete lunacy.
A night ride on the fiero Fx on Airport road…alone… offers a mystical serenity. That could probably be the absolute absence of traffic or merely deficiency of the harshness of public gaze.
Now that I have mumbled out the irresistible but worthless initial rhetoric, let me get to the point. I have not yet come in terms with my new found ‘independence’. Although I have not tried hard enough, I have presumptions that I will never be. But like with other failed ventures of mine, I will do a trial and error to find out eventually that my instincts are brutally exact.
My friends seem particularly concerned about my well being…and as a gesture of companionship, call on me at oddly hours to ask…”Dude, U cool?”
The deal really is that after they leave, the quality time I always wanted so badly with myself does not look so ‘quality’. Anyway, half of my time gets spent on experimental recipes that could give the government hospital canteens a run for their money.
Anyway, I am fighting the self imposed odds with all my vigor. Wish me luck…if at all there is something like that.