Tomic Riter

Tag: writer

  • With a tongue on fire.

    People usually have morning rituals or evening rituals or some sort of rituals in their lives. I do not have morning rituals or evening rituals. I do not even have mornings or evenings. I go to work, I work, I come back from work. That’s how I measure my time.

    It’s a holiday. Again, I cannot feel the excitement of it. What am I? A fucking stone?

    Soon, my body should begin to show symptoms of withdrawal. That’s natural to happen to an addict.

    Just another rainy day in my life. Splashes of rain on my window. Curtains moving in the air. Sparrows resting on window rails. Times have changed, and with that, I have changed too. And what is change but to come to realise a lot more than you already realise. I changed to grow my own experiences of life. I cannot always be the same man, nor would I ever want to be the same man, nor would I ever want to change. That is to say that I want neither. I am just flowing with this life.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • Rain and this and that.

    Back home early. The day turned out to be better than I had expected. Owing to certain external factors, I didn’t have to work at all today. Instead, had a day long discussion with this lady on varied subjects – mysticism being a prime one. Also, what could possibly be the rationale behind a sane man eating another man, preferably a dead man. I can’t tell about the bits of discussion here. That’s not the point I want to convey here. I want to convey, as usual, nothing. I am just typing shit in one breath. Tomorrow, I am out on the road again after a gap of almost two months. To hell with all this rain. To hell with everything. I can’t stay back. I want to be back on highways and country roads. I want to be out there. I feel like a bitch without limbs. I feel like a bitch. A BITCH! I am close to freedom. Now is not the time to lose my shit. It is true that we need a space in our lives where we can openly discuss just about anything. I feel that most of us lack that space in our lives. Without that space, we would only suffocate ourselves on a daily basis. It would be like being dead without actually dying.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS

  • One from my goddamned desk.

    This one is a quick post from my mobile. That is something I never do. So if you’re reading on laptop or PC, apologies if it doesn’t look good. Also, about that, I do not give a shit. Ha ha ha.

    It’s been raining heavily since this morning. No electricity. No mobile connectivity. It all looks so bad when I look out the window. So bad and so wet and so dirty. That’s why I hate rain. It brings in more dirt than it washes away. At least that has been the case with me. Always. It would have looked better had I been on a holiday. But I am not.

    – Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • An evening like no other.

    An evening like no other. A completely worthless evening. At least my sickness hasn’t worsened. No sudden rise in body temperature. The weakness is still there. Maybe reading a little Dostoyevsky will make me feel better. Notes from the Underground. Started reading it a year and a half ago. I am a terrible reader. A bad fucking reader. I love to buy books and I hate to actually read them. And I buy only gems. I haven’t bought a single bad book in a life, except for a couple of times from Instagram fucking trash poets. Fucking trash poets! Not all but most of them. Just fucking trash. Can’t write a fucking simple sentence, and they write boring shit. It’s all fucking boring nonsense there these days. I have found WordPress to be a much better platform for sharing writing and finding other meaningful writers. I haven’t found many, here or there, but this place beats Instagram by any standard. Now, off to drinking hot bitter coffee. I can’t even make coffee right these days. FUCK!

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS

  • This is something else.

    This is not how the day was supposed to go. It’s raining like hell. Can’t go anywhere. Can’t even step outside. In my room, locked, listening to music. The sickness is leaving my body. Last night was terrible. My body was on fire.It was a a strange, terrifying feeling. I was shivering. I am shivering now as I write. I just want some rest. A good rest. Haven’t been on a road trip in two months. Terrible. I hate rain. Road trips on a motorcycle are my only cure. I want the cure soon.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS

  • Tomorrow again.

    I’ve always wanted to grow this blog of mine. It is now two years and three months old and I do not know the future of it as much as I do not know the future of myself. Had a call from a colleague an hour ago. It has left me drained. Nothing more tiring than a day job. I still haven’t found a way out of it. Another call. Another message. Another distraction. Lying in my bed. Thinking about a million things. It’s worth tonight to keep the windows open. The winds are just so good and so calming. Listening to Mighty Sam McClain. Mighty as ever. A voice so brutal, listening to it you would vomit all the sadness out of your eyes. I am trying to vomit now. It’s hard but I am trying. I am trying. I am trying. It’s well past ten at night and I am trying. McClain, pour me a drink like you’ve poured for yourself. McClain, savour the winds tonight like I am savouring them. McClain, make it rain. McClain, don’t be a cunt yet. Scream into the mike and make the world piss through the ears. I’ve only got today. Tomorrow, I am a free man searching for a new chain.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS

  • Travelling light.

    The truth is that you don’t ever quit being what you truly are. It’s something bounded to your core. It doesn’t matter whether you’re good or bad. I think a man gives its best when he is closest to what he truly is. I’ve contemplated many times on the true nature of man. I do not do that anymore. Man is surprisingly simple to understand and at the same time, quite hard to define. Take any other animal. They find joy easily. They find it much easily than any man. Man gets easily distracted with his surrounding elements. I am like any other man. I hardly accomplish anything. My only achievement in the last one month is getting my clothes washed! I took two months even for that. Anyways, soon I am out of this city. Maybe tomorrow. I haven’t packed my stuff yet. Like always, I do not like to carry much. Just a backpack and me and my motorcycle.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS

  • Last night wasn’t last night after all.

    Jesus Christ! What was I thinking all this while. I don’t know. I’ve been a stupid asshole since a long time. Time to pull myself out of the pit. Time to be a hell maker. Time to shit out properly all that I can’t keep inside of me anymore. Enough of drinking and fooling around. Time to add a little more red to my blood. Enough of being a loser. Meanwhile, Dan is back. I see him coming back, still singing sad songs in his coarse voice, like he’s been drinking since the Big fucking Bang. He probably popped out of singularity with a can of beer. Goddamnit Dan. Goddamnit. With a voice like that, you could’ve won the whole universe. But you chose to go down silently like me and the rest of our kind. What is this stupidity with good people who are eternally sad. Fools. But then, sadness is the ink that stays the longest on the canvas of true art. Goddamnit Dan. Goddamnit. What are you making write. Shit. I’ve got twenty minutes to catch a fish, kill it, fry it and eat it. Gotta go.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS

  • Big things.

    Big things are coming. But they are always coming and they never come. This time, it might be different or it might turn out to be the same as before. Only time will tell. But how much time before we are told what is and what is not. No idea. Usually with these things, it takes a hell lot of time. A lot of waiting for no reason. But then, what choice do I have. What choice do I ever have. I like to keep no options. I am a one road man. I’ve got no wishes to fulfil. I had been away. But I was around. I would like to be back for good. Only time will tell. But how much time. Again, no idea. Nights are spent drinking. Days are spent working. Afternoons, well, who cares about afternoons! It’s almost night Time to drive back to my beloved bar and have a beer.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS

  • A life full of downs.

    Since the beginning of birth, it has been like this. I’ve lived in some kind of fear. Today, I can write just about anything but I cannot write a thing about that fear. It’s still there. Only it’s clearly felt when I am around my loved ones – my family. Calling them ‘loved ones’ is farcical. I remember father once yelling at us, ‘We are just four people living together. We are no family. We will never be.’ What he said was harsh but true. Even today, we are no family. It’s better now because I live far away from them and I don’t feel any need to visit them. Sometimes, I make them calls and that’s it. Enough of socialising with the loved ones. There’s no love, just the appearance of it. Haven’t had coffee in a long time. It’s a sunny day and no bird has died since morning.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS