Fairytales- Cranial Mineral Depletion

The room swims in and out of focus. Influences/ stimulii have not come in any form. All it took was wood pulp printed double side in all its glory to deal a severe blow- post traumatic stress coupled with acute withdrawal sydrome have ensured that one now attempts to sheepishly grin at jokes cracked by anchors on TV news channels. Life doesn't get better than this. Maybe it does. Maybe not. One is unsure of how to put it.

Now boasting of visible traces of facial exoskeletal growth, the nagging feeling of growing up seeped away late this afternoon after a comprehensive pounding in the entangled world of telecommunications (Definition of AM: When we modulate amplitude, it is called AM). With such churlish attempts to pass time failing miserably, one's mind drifted to a fairytale world of adventure, intrigue and magic- of drama, hot babes and land deals gone bust. It didn't take a train trip, it didn't take a dream, all it needed was some good old timing diagrams and the transition was complete.

This world consists in all (for the sake of narration, of course) three hundred seventy two and a half characters, not all similar taken in random order and then sorted into groups according to instantaneous hormonal changes (as measured on the Playboy graph- standard scaling applies). Constant parallels can be found to characters based in other similar creative (Bah!) attempts (exclamation not to be mistaken with BAJ) like a computer game called Hercules, a stack of paper called the LOTR trilogy, a .pdf known simply as Arthur Dent and a talking great dane.(One wishes to thank all these sources but that would make it obvious beyond doubt that one really has very little to work with, so lets just skip this last bracketed comment/hint at life)

The Promising Saga That Hasn't Even Taken Off Yet (Volume I- draft)

As the yellowing patches of the ceiling had finally begun to peel, I felt the time had come. Cowardice is for those who could not see face to face with the truth. Ah, the joy that bullshit you don't mean brings with it. Nothing had changed in over three years- the same complaints, followed by resignation to the fate of things. Fate. That was a dangerous word. It had often awoken rash impulses. Such impulses will need to be curbed, I thought. The perils that disorganised living brought with it were many, but none as frustrating at the time as the inability to scheme. A deeper burning conscience(conscience was it?) would not allow anything beyond the first stage. The bigger picture was clear. Tomorrow was an important day. Keep it simple. Keep it straight. Breathtakingly simple was the new ingenious. Ingenious had left with the white haired guy people kept talking about.

Roughly seven hundred and odd feet away, a street dog roamed the alley with happy contempt. Yeh apna ilaqa hai. Sniffing away at the disgraced garbage bin had yielded nothing tonight. Even by its standards. Greener pastures must be found. The dog quickly corrected itself. I need some [expletive] meat. What went unnoticed by our four legged hero was the fact that the alley was not purely his. Fate (yup, here also) had better plans for the claustrophobic walls. Their caving in approximately an hour later would also lead to some interesting revelations.

~One would like to leave it here for the time being- victory is still not one's completely. With lower level coding and hurried scribbling still on the cards for a few days, it would be best not to leave such things purely to fate. More when the saga continues~