Sunday, June 29, 2008

Wits.

It's not a good idea to underestimate a woman, no matter how dim-witted she might be. Happenstance might step in and shift random quotients of fortuitousness in her favour.

If only because she's a woman.

If a dim-witted woman were to keep a man in tow, the probability of the man becoming equally dim-witted is quite high.

Sometimes, the man might become increasingly befuddled and glazed, thus exceeding the level of dim-wittedness displayed by the dim-witted woman.

At the end of the day, it all comes down to love.

You fools.

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Tuesday, June 24, 2008

O, woe is the fat boy who can't get shagged and has to shovel shit for a living.

I can't bear how my justification behind something can't be accepted by another. It's hard to appreciate people who don't see my rationale behind something.

The problem isn't about being right...it's about being made to feel as if you're wrong half the time. Despite knowing better, thinking clearly and seeing it from the quorum's point of view.

Alas, the problem isn't about being wrong...it's about being wrong all the time.

Then again, I've finally understood what a lifetime of servitude really is. No matter where you are in the hierarchy, there's always a glass ceiling above you. Unless you were God...and if you were, you'd never need a promotion. Or a sick day. Or a rain check. Ever.

But by Crom, I'm not God. I'm fallible. And uninfallible. All at once.

Let the good times roll.



May they roll a little bit quicker towards me.

Monday, June 23, 2008

A snail's pace.

Once again, I find myself in a situation where I can't quite keep up with the world around me.

What can I say? I'm adverse to work.

It doesn't help when I feel that I'm on the diving end of a sinking ship. The inevitable has been repeatedly kept at bay, but you can only try your best to shovel shit and dispose of it before it overwhelms you and you find yourself neck-high in feces.

I'm the horse that you bet wrongly on.

I wish everything would stop.

Saturday, June 07, 2008

Mule.

It's been a while, hasn't it? There's a comforting feeling that buzzes through me when I see this familiar textbox. It makes me feel better to know that when times are hard, I'm given some sort of allowance to whine about things to the world at large.

And the best part is, I don't really care if the world cares, simply because the chances of being heard are so great. Someone's bound to care.

The last month and a half has been pure madness. It's been heady.

I can safely say that academic aptitude doesn't really matter, if only because the Almighty has played a sick joke on you and pressed the Reset button.

Now, more than ever, I'm a donkey, with the carrot dangling precariously close, yet never attainable.

I want to sleep.