Dedicated to Bad Writing


All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental

Woke up this morning and No
I had no hangover

My spirits never betray me
Unlike my wicked conscience

“Oh! You pathetic lousy worthless compulsive drinker…
You are doomed, doomed, doomed”

“What the hell, I won’t drink tonight
Just let me be, will ya?”

I log on social sites
No likes, no comments
On WordPress,
Facebook or Twitter
Stumble upon, Pininterest,
Google plus
Everyone’s got so much to say
And no time for me

Alas! My idea to start a peaceful day
Is doomed…

Swami smirked “Why don’t you like a few,
Make comments on their post?
They won’t like you back but sure will reply….perhaps!”

Swami is my dear friend
He never leaves a chance
To pull me down
He scores followers with such ease
That self-righteous prick
Writes mushy stuff
Motivates losers with borrowed quotes
Can you?
Not me…

Before I react
The doorbell screamed
I received my credit card statement
Marked URGENT in red
I flung the envelope
It landed in some corner
We’ll find it
Not before I get endless calls from the bank

I click on reader
“What’s wrong with people?
I have no clue
They update about spring
Spring and blooms
Look, there’s a bloom!
A picture
Look, here’s a bloom here!
A picture
Look, no bloom!
A slideshow
And they think street photography
Is all about walking on the street
Taking random pictures
Infringe upon people’s privacy”

Swami said, as matter of fact
“That’s what street photography is”

“No, there’s more to it”

Swami retorts “There’s more to what they do”

“Whatever…It’s time for my siesta.
Marquez recommends it in times of cholera”

I crawled to my bed
And dozed off…

When I woke up
The sun was gone
Swami was gone
I looked around
Cracked ceiling
Grouchy fan
Peeled off walls were closing in on me…
I need a drink

I finished a quarter
Do I feel better?
Do I feel better?
I don’t think so…

Something pissed her off
Something I must have said
I stare at the lit hollows in the dark sky
Some call them stars
Her voice is all I yearn for
I just want to hold her and cry
She’s all I got
I’ll do whatever she says
Should I call her and plead?
What if she yells
Bangs the phone on me?
Help me please!
My anguished heart needs respite
I service my soul with another quarter
And dial her
I hear her sweet voice
From the machine
She left town for a week

She left me dry
In misery and pain
Swami is right
Women, they just love it!

Where do I go?
I got no place to go
She’s all I had…
Swami…Not again!
My voice dialing
Not equipped to handle my slurs
Hears Swami’s name right
That’s a sign
Swami is my true friend
He hurts me
But he never lies
I should not be mean
In fact I should request him
To be my guest blogger
That’s a smart comeback plan

I hear Swami
But from the machine
“I’m off for a week,
For a long pending assignment”

84 thoughts on “Dedicated to Bad Writing

  1. Take heart my friend, to feel is to live. Here is a comment and a heartfelt like. I would hang out with you at a moments notice. We would drink and laugh.

    • I’ve hardly touched many notions rather I’d say this is a self-indulgent post cause I know your perspective will be quite distinct. Readers would love to hear your take.

  2. Arjun
    So Schizophrenic in a fun way! You don’t seem to be at a loss for words. LOL Neither am I usually. Since you so aptly appreciate quotes from mindless droids here is one most appropriate for this situation… I believe it is by Dr. Carl Jung, who’s theories I studied in Psychology. ” Give me a sane man, and I’ll cure him.”
    You always get my heart pumping with your snappy attitude and clever way of expressing yourself. I like quirkiness.
    You never told me when I asked – duh duh…what does grazie mean? I am curious.

  3. Very good one so I am leaving a comment but not saying anything. I have to go post my street photo with the inspirational message and a good quote. You scored big look at all the comments.

    • To be accepted and appreciated as I am by so many blogger-friends and you so dear to me is quite an humbling experience. Thank you so much for the kind support and encouraging words!

  4. Pingback: Hello, My Name is Honey and I’m a Blogging Addict | Honey Did you See that?

  5. Were you still drunk or pulling our legs? Do you really go to that many sites looking for friends – just look at how many people commented here!!

    • Sir, I wrote this from a point of view of a blogger who is good but an introvert. Many we notice on WP. No pulling anybody’s leg, never but mine.
      To be honest, the blogging community has been very kind to me and I’m truly thankful to them. In other words, I’m a miserable blogger/attention seeker who threatens to jump off the cliff every 5th post.

      • Sorry – I was just pulling your leg. I have a dry sense of humor that often gets misunderstood. Take a deep breath and hang on to the edge of the cliff.

        • I liked your comment, Sir!
          In fact I was thinking of a story.
          On a border, two regiments of respective country, bitterly opposed but in peace times have a situation on hand. One drunk soldier threatens to jump off the cliff 😀

  6. You know somebody’s comment made me reread this and on third reading, or perhaps it is the 4th, I think it brilliant. It is so honest and funny and sad– all at once. A great combo. More, more, Arjun. Have you ever thought of a short novel– or a photo book with poems?

  7. A late comment maybe..but I liked the poem a lot. Could relate to the wait for like and comment part 🙂 art is not art until its judged I think :):)

    • No comment is late for a miserable poet 😉
      Very well said Archita. To be read and understood in the right context, I guess that’s much needed for an artist. Thank you for dropping by.
      Happy Sunday 🙂

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