Daily JournalA Chapter by anandboseIt's a description of my daily lifeWoke early
…morn was trope of birds floating gently in the air. Greedily devoured mom’s
sweet tea. Smoked a lot of f**s. Clouds lay in mystic colors …orange, purple
and violet. A butterfly perched on my hand; it was a saint bringing me good tidings.
My significant other in Cochin gave me a reply that she delivered a baby boy.
How I long to make sweet love to her. With vermilion sprinkled on her forehead
she looks very beautiful. That Filipino c**t that I had an affair with is
really a bother. She is become an old hag. The sun became a shining ball of
light. How I long to lead a retired life devoted to writing. I long to bring my
significant other from Ghana and I long to make love to her. Poems bloomed like
flowers. I have been writing for years and how I long for fame and recognition.
Is my writing so really bad? Yes, my poems have won some good reviews and I am
so happy about it. I am running short of money and I desperately need a good
paying job. In my mother’s school I am paid a pittance. I really hate my mother
the old hag. She wears a gold necklace and I long to wrest it from her. Yes, I
also hate my conniving wife. She has taken me to asylum many times. Cops are a
real f**k! A f*****g astrologer wrote imprisonment for me …luckily nothing of
that sort happened to me. Astrologers are fucked up a******s. I admire the
beauty in simple things of life. I need to win a windfall and buy a house in
the hills in Munnar and live with the rest of my life with significant other.
My significant other is Grace and she is so charming and beautiful. Am I
progressing in the art of writing? I really don’t know! I must be. I am so
f*****g fond of writing. Time bring a syllable of thought. Music what passions
you bring to the soul. Charm is an enigma …a mystic solitude and passion is her
sister. My soul is a brothel of pollution. Luck you are a tame brother. The sky
lay as mystic white feathers. Bards of poems flew in the sky. A poem rode a
motorcycle. Summer is come and I am waiting for the monsoon. I am thinking of
the houseboats lying in the tranquil backwaters of Kerala. I long to spend a
night in erotic ecstasy in them with my significant other. Time has become an
erotic stream of thought. Christianity is an Armageddonizing religion. Christ
you are the biggest egotist. Religion is a stinking chalice. Time, free from
the pain of lacking money. I am a swine frolicking in the sea of thought. Life
is a surrealistic painting. The artist of life is the body. I am shitting a
body of thought. I want to enjoy passions to the brim. I want every day to be a
financially lucky one. Windfoliate my petals with joy. I am a Cervantes of Postmodern Fiction. Time
relieve the cramps of bad luck. Life feed
me with luck. Life is an extreme and there is no middle way as Buddha said.
Nietzsche, I owe you poems of roses. When will Time heal the wound of my body?
Nirvana I wing you a harp. Poems of joy wake my body up. Sing a joyful song to
nature. Melancholy you are a trembling chain. I need a well paid joy.
Christianity tyrannizes the soul. Passions run into a river that’s deep. I long
to be gratified in sex. Sex is a pain that hurts. My lovers are far away: what
to do? Pain, you are a bleeding anathema. I want to surgicalize my wounds. I want to sensationalize my feelings. Brothel
is the dope of the mind. Passion you have to sterilize the body. Orgasm is an
epic novel of the mind. How to slutify my mind? I am creative, poetic and
Epicurean. I have been an oppressed child. Time has to heal my wounds. God
arranged a marriage that was fucked up. I need to go to Ghana to see my
significant other. I want to make love to her. Passion, you wing of hope. Time
is a serial killer. Luck when can I expect your good tidings? I am not willing
to deny my life and take up the cross and follow Jesus. Can a virgin conceive?
Bah! Baloney! All religions are prostitutes conniving innocent souls. I am
going to Nirvanize my religion. Devil does not dance to my tunes. I am confused
about my worldviews. I have worshipped the Devil but I have found that’s no use.
The Devil is a fucked up stinker. Why can’t God be permissive about Sin? I have
wasted 48 years of my life. That Filipino c**t is a fucked up rat. Woe, I give
you a big f**k. My wife is f*****g c**t. Muhammad brothelized religion. I don’t
canonize saints but I canonize my dick. Time, don’t treat me like a dead duck.
I am generous and liberal with money. God you are a Scrooge of desire. I have
to strangle my wife and mother. Oh God I would love to kill them. They are my
worst enemies. F**k! F**k! F**k! Patience I can’t wait to torch you. Windfall,
you owe me a big applause. Time, free the wings of my body. Refuge, you are a
w***e of thought. I have been dreaming about a windfall but I have not been
lucky in getting one. Why the f**k is that? The All Seeing Eye the Unfinished
Pyramid, you can go to hell. Masons babble hypocrisy. Luck is a demon that has
not been kind to me. I am a fucked up brothel and a stinking asylum. I curse
the day of my birth. I am not speaking vain words. Heaven and eternity don’t mean
anything to me. They are just a fart. Woo time to win me a windfall. © 2019 anandbose |
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Added on March 1, 2019 Last Updated on March 1, 2019 AuthoranandbosePathnamtitta , Kurianoor, IndiaAboutThere's a joke about me that when I was baptized I pissed on the cassock of the priest and my tryst with iconoclasm being then I am a Hellenic Philistine, an Existential Nihilist, a staunch Epicurea.. more..Writing
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