This is the story of my life. Unpredictable. Unabridged. Un-everything. This is a simple digital diary I have kept to keep track of my life, in a non-linear way, to tell my tales and to discover what life is dishing out all along. There is so many things happening and it is quite ridiculous all of these would mean just a naught as soon as the last nail is hit on my coffin, when I bid adieu to you, to everyone on this earth. Anyways. But I'm glad there are so many things. And these things somehow manifest themselves to give my life an essence. Otherwise, I would have been a suicide bomber a long time ago and would have been sleeping with one of the goddesses in the heaven.
Yesterday, there was a bomb blast in my town. They exploded the bomb because they wanted a new nation. But two little girls died when they were returning from their school. Some other people were also killed. Sometimes these political people are more than a pain in the ass. More than a swell in the ass. New nation. New freedom. So funny when all I want is to eat, drink, sleep or have sex when I want. Perhaps you might know what I mean if you belong to, or have some idea about a conflict zone, where elected government and violence-inspired insurgent groups mean the same thing, where so many ethnic groups are fighting for their freedom and their homelands and where you will be alive if you are only lucky. Too much violence and killings and bomb blasts. But I'm glad again I'm still alive to tell my tales.
While I'm so apathetic to these things like killings and violence, it is a contradiction that I keep mentioning about the issue so often. Maybe, it has become a way of life, a part of narrative that incorporates the life stories of so many of us living in this place, which is just thirty degree short of hell. We call hell a 'norok' in my native language. By the way, I speak Manipuri.
Yesterday, there was a bomb blast in my town. They exploded the bomb because they wanted a new nation. But two little girls died when they were returning from their school. Some other people were also killed. Sometimes these political people are more than a pain in the ass. More than a swell in the ass. New nation. New freedom. So funny when all I want is to eat, drink, sleep or have sex when I want. Perhaps you might know what I mean if you belong to, or have some idea about a conflict zone, where elected government and violence-inspired insurgent groups mean the same thing, where so many ethnic groups are fighting for their freedom and their homelands and where you will be alive if you are only lucky. Too much violence and killings and bomb blasts. But I'm glad again I'm still alive to tell my tales.
While I'm so apathetic to these things like killings and violence, it is a contradiction that I keep mentioning about the issue so often. Maybe, it has become a way of life, a part of narrative that incorporates the life stories of so many of us living in this place, which is just thirty degree short of hell. We call hell a 'norok' in my native language. By the way, I speak Manipuri.
Life's a highway |
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