These labels, gosh, get the person out of me. I don’t wish to be tagged like that but this sucker called society is after my blood. Who are you? Why are you like this? Why can’t you be that? Sometime back, some of my prissy pals joined this noise. Puzzled, they pressed: “Hah! You gave up our line-of-work”. As if I was born into a job and born only for that.
I’m so tired of getting stunned. That they appear to be members of the moral majority who want to guide every other person on this planet. Their guise (didn’t I say guile) stuns me more – how the hell do they dupe so many? Then I remembered how the British gulled the Germans, during World War II. British pilots precisely shot down German bomber-planes by eating lots of carrots. Quite a hoax but a smart one at that for which the Germans fell. Actually the British radars on the English coast did the job. Still today many believe that a carrot a day is good for the eyes; the fact is this doesn’t apply to everyone. More vitamins don’t mean you can still wink.
Ever since I defected from a respectable profession some four years back, there is growing suspicion around me. Or am I suspicious about something like that. Once I was tagged a Marxist-radical when I wore gifted red Reebok shoes for sometime. Of course, manful doubts also arose that were doggedly disproved with very few gals rounding me; or (to be honest) me skirting around them. Too much of preening ah!
In any case, a cloud of misgivings hover above me. I don’t want that cloud to go away. It feels like a crown right on top there and me the king of an unknown kingdom with no one to rule and drool over. Ah where’s my queen – pacemaker of my heart and peacemaker of my life…
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