I’ve learned that I am most inspired in moments of uncontrollable sleep, intolerable boredom and anger. Anger with such might as my body cannot hide or contain. Born talentless as I was, I always felt I shan’t ever be able to relish any great works of art. I would defy them. Defile them. I hated those geniuses who created them. For want of just one drop of inspiration, I have gone down on my knees. I lay on that alter, praying for one great moment of creativity. I prayed to be granted one bout of genius, or life be taken away from me. Alas, neither happened. So here I am writing about all I have- my mediocrity. You can never learn how to live with it. Because life shan’t forgive you. Excellence haunts you. Those creatively gifted ones- they talk about me. I have heard their whispers behind my neck. But I have grown up. It was much worse. And that I give the world credit for. In the bushes of my mortality, the experience of personal growth is like undergrowth. Its not very pretty or well shaped- but atleast you can lie down on it. I don’t want to stop. I want to keep writing. For I fear, that if I stop, nothing good would ever come to me. I am liking what I have written so far. And if I stop, this would just be another bit of paper that gets stapled onto the other unconnected bits. It would bring me no fame. It would never get published. I pause now. I want to read what has been written so far. I like it. I feel like reading it over and over again. I read it like a maniac repeats his words and shakes his head. I cant believe myself. I cant wait to gloat.

inventory

I took stock yesterday
Of the things I possess


The earth and all other planets for one
The rest of the space I'm willing to share
The Love of all those I love
The rest of it can go to hell

The watch and bag I spent a load on
The things that make my living room pretty
The spices that make me a good "wife"
My bag of medicines that got us out
Of seeing a doctor in every city of the country

The songs that I played on a friend's party
The songs I sing when I'm nervous
A facebook profile with a few pictures
A broken compass box from school
A few books that I bought without external influence

A set of podgy cheeks
The glass of milk I MUST DRINK
every bloody day
The phones I bought and hated the next week
The newly acquired visciousness
That has kept dogs at bay

The special evening snack I take
The eggs I buy and never eat
The plastic smile that makes the mouth ache
The love of oasis and that of coldplay

The calender that I cannot stand to see
The days that make me age
The life that makes me "live with it"
The love that makes me grow up

There- thats all i own till date
Write that in a will and pass it on
Anybody out there?
Anybody AT ALL who would place a bid?