RAMBLING

There are gaps and holes. Vacuum that sucks nothing but throws out aloud. Like the little kid who had too much to eat. Throwing up with a lot of noise. Screaming, crying, whining to make it stop. And you just stand back and let it throw it all out. Pat on its back…its OK love. Vacuum vomiting out a lot of memories that have no right to come out. A walky-talky vacuum that doesn’t walk (but follows, sliding, moaning, “Where are you going to go?”) that doesn’t talk (only vomits memories). I found a vacuum shaped just for me. But I don’t need it. I try to move without footsteps, just a single line, and a faint memory in the head of those who will bother. Loved when present, forgotten once gone. Wiping away, but the hole tells me, there is ABSOLUTELY no way. I will roam around here, sliding to people who will wonder where you are, sliding to those who try to hate you…whatchu gonna do? Where you gonna run? She flew with a packet of cigarettes and a bottle of rum. Ha-ha. The vacuum irritates. I push it away. I want to be born again, a saint maybe, a nun? Hmm. Born again. Bore-nagen. A fat dark Chinese man with a drooping moustache. I want to be a fat Chinese man with a dropping moustache, who eats cockroaches and eyes the woman in the nearby room. A girl really. I run a finger on my stomach, not lovingly, just like that. The belly of a fat Chinese man is already here. But the face is too dead. The twin took away a part of the life, as a revenge of letting me live and dying herself. A half-dead part of an egg who wants to be a fat Chinese man. God bless her.


ALL BECAUSE OF ARUNDHATHI ROY’S ‘GOD OF SMALL THINGS’. READ IT IF YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS INTERESTING OR FUNNY. TRUST ME IT’S GOOD. YOU WILL LOVE IT IF YOU CAN GET YOURSELF TO BOTHER COMING TO THIS BLOG. IT’S ONLY BETTER.