Non-Sprout

Screaming and crying at the gates of heaven has never really helped much. The events of this year have pushed me into this filthy, moss covered refugee camp I like to call Non-Sprout.

I've thought it over a thousand times, and then a thousand more. If there's anything like a 'stillborn sprout of hope' its me. Let's do a neat brief recap of all the shitty shit-heads I've been through in life. I won't comment on my family. That's for God and me to to discuss. He doesn't like me dragging matters out into the open. "Honor your father and your mother, even if they're hanging you like a Christmas decoration by a noose, off a cliff", or the commandments go something like that.

Let's talk about my first love.
If love is supposed to make you deaf, dumb and blind, I was in ultra-love. Bullshit. Mom liked the boy, so I was brainwashed into liking him. Parents really screw your life up. This guy, together with his 'muh boli' sister (who wanted to get banged by him so bad) and her boyfriend, and the boyfriend's brother (who wanted to bang her so bad) messed up my life more than my parents did. Yeah, its friggin funny when you think it can't get worse, and it does, and it stares you in your face, poinks you in the nose a few times and says "See -> WORSE" !

Then came skimpy clothes princess.
Once you've been through relationship turbulance for a year and your entire college looks down upon you like you're the city slut, you're willing to give your life away to the first half-wit who shows the slightest signs of believing your 'misery ki daastaan'. Likewise.
By the time I understood that she was walking, stomping and wiping the crap stuck to the heels of her shoes, on me, it was too late. I had one dumb meserized friend, wagging his tail like a love sick rabid chihuahua behind her and everyone else kissing the ground she walked on. All thanks to me, of course!

Meanwhile 'boyfriend the second' was on the scene.
Once bitten, twice shy. No, I never learn. Second guy was a charm. I would have run away with him overnight. One problem - he friggin hated talking to me. That got on my nerves. Then there were other things that bothered me that are too personal to mention here. I may not have any life at all, but I still pretend to have privacy issues. You should also pretend that they're convincing issues.

'Boyfriend the third' is why someone coined the term "disaster management".
Disater management has a simple explanation. When you live in India, disasters exist; management is a myth. Much like the floods that swept Mumbai into a frenzy, he came and turned my life upside-down-downside-up and all the other possible directions you can imagine; all this effort just to get laid. Hah! (Get) Screw(ed by) you(?)! You wish!

Now, I stand at the point of nothingness where all I see is a stillborn sprout of hope. Hence the update. To make myself feel better, I shall go ruin a bot's day and improve my aim, so that I can pray that I can put it to some practical use and kill all these friggin excuses of existence, all but 'boyfriend the second'. He's getting married so I don't need to kill him.