What am I doing?
This is not the most encouraging thing to have lapping around your head on an idle Monday afternoon. Mondays, as all of you know, is a zombie apocalypse for us employed types. The pain is especially pronounced for a writer- we are used to looking all busy and productive, lest our lazy demeanor and confused stares are falsely pronounced for early stage dementia. Thus, chugging on and on about something, or crapping all over a MS Word document in the pursuit of something alive and inspiring is an arduous task when thou yourself are barely passing by as a logic driven human being. Ah, the pain of Mondays…Who did ever think of you?
Speaking of my awareness as a Writer (I mean not the content creating machine); there is a definite inkling of the long awaited ‘Coming’. Something alien, silly, noisy and ill-tempered is gnawing on my insides. A bird flutters by and out bubbles a collage of interesting interpretation of its fluid flight, I see my girl and there are these unheard of adjectives bursting out of my enchanted brain trying to put into words the remarkable presence that she is, I eat a plate of Set Dosa and out bursts a lengthy mental monologue about the yucky of eating little round globes that pale so magnificently against Kudla’s own, Neer Dosa. Long story short, words are relevant again…words are making a comeback.
I sign off as not the docile Prady- but the impostor who believes himself a gifted magician of words- and whose greatest illusion is just a whisper away.