After several weeks of living a misanthropic and relatively chaste monk-like life, I have now devoted my time in peace reading literature, sipping cheap booze, and poking fun to my Friendster friends. If we are not yet friends at Friendster, please add me.

You see, I am now taking a much deserving break from flaming and other internet non-sense, which was kind of fun till both sides turned uncool. The trick is to be the most awesomest intense uncool and try to stay at it as long as you can. But that’s another story that has added further pollution to our Whirled Wide Webz, making some scholars busier on their on-going study of Anger on the Internet. Anyway, this is a break article and I am keeping up my word to Self to stay sober after dinner and write nothing but the best in literature, that is, well, for a change.

So with that allow me to introduce you to some little secrets in my room. First off, there are only two living souls who know where I take my abode: my self and the ex-girlfriend. There is only one way to reach here and you would have to grope your way through a dangerous foggy little path, canal stink, fresh animal and human excrements, and the common danger of getting raped by tattooed men and fairies. I took this room four months ago because it was nearer to my former office, more spacious than the previous one, at the top floor with its three big windows, and, of course, because it’s cheaper. The first thing you’ll soon notice when you enter the room is the smell of brewing coffee, books, and a mixed aroma of cig smoke and brandy, with a tinge of perfumed soap. Aside from an assortment of classical and perverted movies, empty bottles of booze, an electric fan, a single bed, I only got a few articles of clothes. Most of them I gave away some months back to younger relatives or to unknown strangers.

Eating up much space in my room is my collection of books after some months of indulging to my vice of buying them cheap from Booksale shops. I piled them according to already-read-books, read-these-later and must-read-these-now. The first pile I put below the bookshelf. The second category of books is just cramming around wherein a promise was made some weeks ago to arrange them somewhere. The must-read-these-now books
I divided into two towers and put them where I can easily see them the moment I wake up and the instant I enter the room. This strategy works well to me by reminding me of my ignorance and to haunt me with guilt and remorse every time I wasted a single second of my life. Read more>>>