THE BOOK and the reader, in no particular order.

I was reading. On the train, on my way to work, at a sidewalk cafe between the 0800-0900 ( i included this to give this entry some sort of a romantic "Feel", whatever that may mean to my loyal readers), during lunch, after work.. you get the idea. So let me go on about THE BOOK. THE BOOK, which shall now be refered to as the book, not to reduce its importance but for easier typography. The book perches on a stool, usually a standalone one, separated from eyes by a chicken pie on mondays and on days when i have company, 3 conversations at once. Sometimes it peers through the zipper from my bag, which i deposit to the left of where i sit at my table.. IT stares, at hours on end.. I throw a glance every now and then only to have it throw one back at me and miss.. for hours on end. I don't mean to ignore it. I like it very much. All the crazy people inside, screaming to get out. "Oye! Oye! Oye!" They are all angmohs by the way, and that exclamation should really be read with a preferable European accent.

I was reading a passage from it and the theme was about bargaining with FATE and GOD. The protagonist tried everything and in the end gave up from sheer exhaustion. You cannot change what you cannot control. I had done it too many times. I wasn't ashamed. I just liked looking at my feet.

_ im being distracted by television_ now i am really ashamed.