At a friend’s shop, sitting on this chair with my legs stretched. Been sitting here with my legs stretched since about thirty minutes. The friend is nowhere to be seen. ‘He said he’ll be back in five minutes’ says the helper. ‘Sure’ I say to him and continue with the sitting. Yesterday, started reading this [...]
Category: prose
The little pleasures and me.
Back home early from work. Oh the pleasure of coming home early from work, although there's nothing much to do at home. The pleasure of sitting naked on the couch legs crossed or stretched out, putting on loud music, opening a can of beer, watching sunset from my bedroom, writing, reading a new book. It [...]
Laws and backaches.
That there's a legal age for drinking and it varies from one country to another says a lot about how well we have our laws planned. In short, a man/woman breaking law in one country might not be doing so in some other country, and is, as a result, not punished in one country and [...]
Bare chests and second drafts.
None of my lines have ever repeated, or maybe they have. How would I know. I never read my stuff again unless of course it's for the purpose of editing. Otherwise, why would I read it again. I wouldn't want to change anything about it other than, maybe, make a few minor structural and grammatical [...]
Written in blood one evening.
What would I tell the world if it asked me what happened today. What could I possibly tell. In fact, what could I tell the world about any of my days. It's like everything is happening at once, and also nothing at all. There's so much that when I sit down to write, I sometimes [...]
A simple questionnaire for the next four days.
What to drink. What not to drink. What to drink right now. What to drink an hour later. What to drink right before going to sleep. Whom to drink with. What to drink with. What to leave behind. What to drink right now. What to drink right now. What to drink in sleep. What to [...]
One coffee, please.
It’s hard for an artist not to think of success. Without envisioning success far down the line somewhere, he might not even begin to act upon his visions and dreams. Sitting in this cafe at 7 in the evening after a tiring day at work, what makes me think, out of nowhere, about the success [...]
Morning hunger.
I am not failing enough. That is the problem. The problem is just that. The fucking problem. It's like I've come to a halt. I cannot believe how I have come to this. But then, there's nothing to believe in it. It's a fact that I've stopped functioning altogether. I am just a rotten vegetable [...]
One word two words.
Can't blame the world for what I have become. It's all my own doing. I am no victim of the circumstances. Fuck circumstances. I am all that I did. And what all did I do. A hell lot of shit. But I am no victim. I am good as I am. Of course, I've had [...]
Journaling and stuff.
Been writing in this journal of mine since last one year. It has been one fucking hell of a journey. 213 pages of blood and tears and all things raw. This journal will form the basis of my first work of prose. Earlier, I thought I would just publish my journal as it is - [...]
Tomic Riter 
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