Don’t I Wanna Be Anywhere Else But Here?

It is the third time I got up from my seat to light a cigarette, but forgot all about it, got occupied with something else and came back to resume or rather commence blogging. I don’t know if blogging and the cigarette would make me feel any better afterwards, but I’m hoping it would.

Was dragged to the beach after much retaliation late in the fucking morning by a good friend and an old flame. I am feeling feverish and fucked up though there was no serious dipping being done. I conveniently stayed on the shore whilst the boys played ball in the middle of the sea. It was relaxing though I now feel like a piece of over grilled chicken drumstick.

I asked myself a million times why I had left him, rejected him and refused to visualize a future with him before. He was a lot of things I wanted, simple, old fashioned, persevering, though he doesn’t listen to the same music, watch the same movies or read the same books. I have been asking myself for days if these things are actually important, but I haven’t been able to come up with a satisfying answer till date. For now, all I am aware is that I have been and am in awe at what his inner being is made of. Is there an outer being at all?

I have always liked English films and books by Indian producers and writers. There is something about their productions that you will never find in a western artist. While hunting for books I came across a book which looked like just another time pass read “one night @ the call centre” by Chetan Bhagat, which I couldn’t eventually keep down until every page was read. Not that I had ever worked at a call centre to really earn a living but there was something about the book that touched or disturbed me. Love, choices, or a boorish management I cannot really figure out. An almost well written book. He could have jolly well done a better job with it. About to go on to “Eat Pray Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert and then on to “48 Laws of Power” by Robert Greene.

Turning 27 in approximately 40 days time and everybody has pressed the panic button, except for me. I have just started the elimination process [evil grin]. Most people, when deciding on a suitable match list down everything they like in the so called ideal counterpart, which I too have done countless number of times only to find myself even more confused than ever. A colleague who seems to have some smart theories about men, keeping them and eliminating them had a different strategy which sounded worth trying and was definitely worth trying.

Strategy:

List down the good and the bad of each of the potential candidates instead and voila everything suddenly seemed clear. Managed to eliminate a good 5 who will never be considered ever again.

Material Boy

Me : Told him I was in deep shit financially and though I liked him a lot I didn’t wanna commit since I wouldn’t be able to give my 100% with the strategic payment plan I had to follow [balls]!

Instead of saying he doesn’t really care about stupid materialistic things or my networth, he had the nerve to tell me that my plan to stick to my payment plan was not stupid at all, in fact very wise

My suspicion he was materialistic beyond my liking was confirmed.

Lankan Boy With An Outa The Blue Accent

Nice guy, absolute survivor, romantic as hell, sweet as chocolate, would be loyal, loving and everything a woman wants. They never come in separate packages without these…. possessive, neurotic, paranoid etc..

Liar Boy

The urge to lie about his parents, background and minute things definitely isn’t a plus point, neither does him being a Libran.

Indian Boy

Say yes, please go out with me for you’re the first girl I ever dared like or ask. Not a good enough reason. On the other hand, his need to curl the ‘r’ at the end of each word would drive me clinically insane.

Self Proclaimed White Boy

Libran and an arse.

That’s how easy the elimination process was. It’s not what I want but all about what they are.

Three cigarettes and a blog after my brain feels less cluttered, but the sinking feeling still resides comfortably at the pits of my belly. It must to be an unreachable, deep, dark and lonely place for I can’t seem to reach out and tug it out of me. I can’t figure out what’s wrong or what it is that I really want right now… a new job, a new game or a different work-out routine?