As I lay down on the bed, lying down in semi-consciousness, I try and recollect the vague events of the past few hours. Of the vodka shots. Of the zillion fags I smoked. Of things I better not tell.

I'm now numb on the bed. I feel nothing within or without.

Hours pass by in a wink, and I'm still thinking - of that elusive female in a white dress at the bar. Of the snooker table. Of the drive back home on an old TVS Scooty. Of friends and family. Of things that really don't matter.

In between all this chaos, reality strikes. And it strikes hard. What the fish is wrong with my life? Where am I heading? Why is the world spinning out of control all around me?

And I have thoughts which are even more basic and perplexing... how this insignificant anonymous entity might feel when he finds his strengths?

But then I also realize that me being unemployed and all makes me think of nonsensical questions like...
Why am I not doing that which comes naturally to me?
Why am I not doing that which will bring out the best in me with the least resistances offered?
Why should I not be doing things that I've never imagined to be possible?
Why should we be doing the doings without the thought of mortality influencing us?

And at the end of all these drunk experiences I realize - why do we deal in almosts and approximations and never in absolutes? People never think in absolutes...well I'm blabbering.

People shouldn't get drunk when they are already out of their minds!