I feel much better now with only disgust over my ridiculous emotions.
So the Surd Man has decided to gift me his Mythic Tarot -- he said he wasn't reading it. And since Ma, has been reading the same one's for a while -- she's really good --I can interpret them fairly. Although I need to get my hands on the Mythical Tarot book -- which sort of makes things clear with the perfect Greek annotations to it.
I'm just extremely tired. From the afternoon shift which was 1 pm to 12 am, I'm on the 5.30 am to 4.30 pm one. Which is cool because I get a fair portion of the evening that I had been craving for, but find me exhausted.
Me and Kake, whenever we can, play 100 points. Which sort of keeps our heads levelled. But besides that me and Big Surd took one night talking of writing a tv sitcom script that formulates on 5 friends that return to India after studying together. Circumstances get them all together.
The trick is that they aren't the average American sorts with fucked up accents like Apu in Simpsons. And the other thing, the mentality is sort of fresh. So it's alienates from the saas-bahu and their children sort of thinking.
It's comic, supposed to have good lines, and doesn't in any which way exhibit orthodox views. Now we just have to put it all together.
The trouble is that Big Surd's got the same job in another channel, and to find time in our effing miserable lives to figure that we're actually doing shit stuff is depressingly pissing off.
Which reminds that I watched Natural Born Killers last evening, and it pickled my brains. Stone, sort of kills it with the visual imagery of America that loves and loathes the art of violence and blood.
I don't know what pissed Tarantino off it -- but I thought it was effing cool.