One drinkless evening.

How could somebody lack the inspiration to write. The thought baffles me. Really, there’s so much to observe. So much keeps going on all around us. You will fall dead way before you are able to grasp everything. People are so busy inside their heads, fighting unnecessary wars that they miss out on a lot of life happening around them. There’s writing in everything. For me, writing and living go in tandem. As long as I am alive, my writing cannot stop. In fact, my writing will remain unfinished. A lot of things will go unrecorded, unavailable to anybody but then, who am I, and how significant are my sentences once they are formed. Each man has its own way of exploration, carries his own thirst. I am thirsty for everything and before my poor lord stamps me in my grave, I better quench my thirst.

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