reality

i wanted keema today, saw it on some show, dhaba he went to, and keema
i cooked keema
thats now.

so while it cools down, i shall talk a lil,
reality is i can do all this, because i learned how to.
i wanted it, with time and practice i can feed myself, feed myself good. there are only so many things you can do when you live alone. people think living alone is easy, it is in ways. but there are times that the emptiness gets to you, oh it gets to you. i have numbed those feeling the best i can, not by doing things i am particularly proud off, but cooking yes, i am proud. i am good, heh real good. it takes the mind away, crucial time aram se pass hoye jaye, times you would have spent pitying yourself, you try to estimate how much salt to put it, how to get that flavor.... that essence...that texture, thinking out ways and things you can mix, things that the bengali mother would never utter to mix, just to get it that lil extra perfect. it is my vice. one out of the two, the other is dark, but there is balance. i have a unique taste-bud-to-brain-remembering ratio. i don't forget taste, i acquire it, register it, and all i do is keep cooking till there is a match. is it that simple, no. but with enough fuck ups, you'll get there eventually. its what keeps me sane, i already have daal, chicken, roast chiken in the fridge...... lots of leftovers, but i still cooked chicken, why............ cause its what calms me. keeps me from wandering off.
i dug my hole, i dwelled in it, i don't think i got out, am getting out, will be getting out..... who gives a fuck. i know this, that hole started out to be the end all of things, unless you find ways to forget that you are in a hole, cause face it, even if you do....there's a deeper hole, a darker one..... its there. believe me its there. move on. shit happens. it will happen, you can't run away from it. you can run away from a particular shit storm, only to be met head on with another shit storm. so why run from it, i say you know the shit storm you are in, the others you don't know anything about, so why not stay merry with the shit that yous got, cause atleast you know what you ate to cause the horrible indigestion of massive proportions. i walked away from my house once, dad had said, ja.... so i went. three houses down the line i realized, what the fuck. i can't do this, i don have the means to do this. running away is only good if you know for a fact that you will never go back, never under whatever circumstances, wind rain snow or sleet, fuck it.... if you turn away don't look back, because those glances back will cost you heavy.
keema, heh, my head is keema...... and it tastes nice.

#include
aah fuck it, you get the point, infinite for loop of shit wad. get over it.