Archive for psychosis

Boss

Day 10,130 – Monday – 19 Jyaistha 1930 – 04 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 09 June 2008

I hate my boss. Dont get me wrong. He is a good guy. He is a good professional. He is a good human being. And he is incredibly irritating. Basically, he is human and that should be enough. But it hardly ever is. Noone wants asshole boss. Some might accept boss. But we all want super boss. Well, they dont exist. At least not in my realm of reality. If you do happen to come across one, please call me immediately, so I can start working with him/her.

Uffffff. The guy repeated the same thing six times today. How the fuck do I know? Why the fuck do I know this for sure? Because I counted. And why in fucks name would I do that??? Because he does repeat a lot and I actually counted.

Why do I get a feeling that I seriously need a life?

In addition to all this excessive talking, I am beginning to realize that I have some version or form of dyslexia. I was reading the previous post and there are times where I have typed the absolutely wrong word. Of instead of Right. And Gone instead of London. And other such things. I do that. I never correct it because I think that is self censorship and that it murders the concept of stream of consciousness.

Wow. Fuck. I guess I can already see a dyslexic mistake.

Now, should I go to a shrink or what?

A a a a a a r r r r r r r r r g g g g g g g g h h h h h h h h h h h h h.

Feeding

Day 10,125 – Wednesday – 14 Jyaistah 1930 – 29 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 04 June 2008

Saturday night, a large group of losers, me and my friend HS and his wife decide to go for food on the highway. Mind you, Saturday night. The rest of the world is getting drunk and then having meaningless lovemaking on banana leafs and persian carpets. And we are going for food to the other end of my known universe. After travelling through disgusting traffic, we reached the desired location. Fed on inordinate amounts of fatty, fried, meaty delights. And, to our most utter surprise, on our return journey, decided to take the Liari Expressway, and were home in less than half an hour.

I would have to say that after eating for three people, returning home at midnight, sleepy as mary-fucking-hellish-poppins it was an absolutely amazing surprise to cut half an hour of traffic from our drive. I would rate it at 0.789302 orgasms.

Oh, and despite the exercise (I ran 2.7 Kms today) I dont see any drastic changes. The patrician signage of the extended stomach is there. My butt is still large and squashy. And of course, I realized today, that I have man boobs. I mean fucking shit. If I wore an A sized bra; it would actually do me good. So I guess I will shift to absolutely nothing other than fruit for lunch.

Damnit! I want something to email and tell me he loves me, and meet up with me and make ever sweet love to me whilst respecting me as a person and loving me back. WELL!!! And in case you are reading this (stupidest fucking brainless logically devoid question to ask) and you are not that guy, please set me up with a friend of yours.

Thank you, and good bye. From yours trule, psychotics united.

Juices

Day 10,116 – Monday – 05 Jyaistha 1930 – 20 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 26 May 2008

Life has been all about juices lately. Creative, Orange and love.

I had decided that I will change things about my life. I will do things I have not done. I will do things that challenge me. Not like my fucking work, which can be done properly by a monkey, after a bottle of whiskey, or three. I wanted to learn a foreign language and learn to either sing or play an instrument. As per the rules of my life. Mr Jalaluddin had to be absolutely confused about everything and every element of life. It took me one year to decide amongst French, Persian, Turkish and Italian. I agree this list is very strange and knowing me as an absolutely psycho should not have even allowed you to ask the question of why this list is wierd. I decided that I will go for French. The reason? My friend joined the classes and dragged me to them as well. Not at all as exciting a reason as anyone can hope for. Definitely not as exciting as hot French men daubed in Azure paint running naked at the language training centre. If only!

I also wanted to learn either to sing or to play the Guitar, Drums or the Tabla. Again, as per the rules of engagement, one of my friends told me to “Grow the fuck up and learn to sing”. Of course that was simply because he wanted to play the Guitar and wanted to play music with me without having to share his Guitar. But, all in all, in the end. I get to sing. Yay! Jalal, you are an absolutely stupendous idiot. Oh shut up!

The Creative juices have started to flow.

As part of my overall strategy to improve my life, and my health. And to ensure that I do not turn into an overgrown fat hag that is bitter and does not get any sex at all, I have started to change my diet and exercise. The only change in my diet is that now I eat as many fruits as I can get my hands on, so all other items of food have gotten reduced in quantity now. And I exercise by going for a walk/jog for forty minutes a day. It is doing me good. So, as per this new development I have had the opportunity to taste fruits and fruit juices all over the city. I am absolutely in love with fresh fruit juices. Just a random example will the the Orange juice at Dunkin Donuts, it is extremely frothy, but is amazing.

The Orange juices are amazing.

And now, to the most, wicked, cruel and absolutely naughty detail. Now, first of all, any or all of you, who do not want to know sexually explicit or disgusting details, please avert your eyes, because I promise this is not a pretty sight. The rest of you, enjoy to your heart’s content, because I feel absolutely ecstatic in bringing this information to day. Today, I had semen on my shirt. It was mine. A tiny mishap during my morning routine. I didnt realize it before I got into my car. Then I knew. I got so excited by the sheer vulgarity and perversion of the action that I spent the whole day extremely over excited and hyper productive at work. I was at least twice as productive as I am usually. I am such a slut!

The love juices are flowing as well!

Oh, and yes, I am absolutely in love with Mark Wahlberg.

Speech

Day 10,097 – Wednesday – 17 Vaisakh 1930 – 01 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 07 May 2008

Although I am certain of the fact that nothing I say or do has the power of amazing any of you any more. But, even then, I will say it. I am a over excitable. When I exercise regularly; when I work less than ten hours a day; and when I do not have my personal life crashing around me I turn into super Jalal. There, shock!

What I mean by super Jalal is someone who walks very fast, talks very very fast, thinks faster than he is able to express in any given format, and most of all has his sex drive shooting across oceans. Bascially, long story short. I am super Jalal since Monday. Work has settled down. I am over Dr Sahab. I am exercising like a freak since I noticed that the previous month of slight exercise and diet control has started to make a visible difference. Please excuse me while I hit my head on the roof repeatedly.

And one interesting that happened today was a one hour call with Dr Sahab. Now that we are better off as “just friends” we really like to talk to each other. So he said something that made all of my previous psychotic fears and neurotic phobias suddenly come to life. He said that there are some people who completely think about something that has happened when it has not occurred at all. I have no idea what he was talking about. Was he talking about us. Becuase I remember occasions which meant that this is a relationship. Did he mean us breaking up. Which I am sure we did since he SMSd. Or, did I hallucinate this? Or did I have a psychotic / neurotic episode?

What the fuck was he talking about. Why the fuck am I so absolutely insane that at the slightest hint of someone saying something I start questioning myself? I need to get laid! Bye ;)

Abysmal

Day 10,092 – Friday – 12 Vaisakh 1930 – 25 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 02 May 2008

Abysmal. That just about sums up my performance over the past two days.

First Dr Sahab breaks up with me. And then he tells me that we should still be friends, reeling from this revelation he drops by to meet up “as friends” on Wednesday night. Just my luck.

I wake up on Thursday, decide that I can not do the friend thing. He calls me up late at night, just to talk, “as friends”. I told him that being friends is a bit too painful for me. And I think we should cease all contact. To that he gave me his opinion whereby people should be able to remain friends outside and/or after a relationship. But he was benificient enough to allow me to cease contact because different people behave differently. Two people with different opinions, but still able to not kill each other.

So, things had ended. All contact has ceased. I did not want that to happen. A part of me told me that if I remained friends he will come back. I was just not ready for cesession of all relations. And since everyone knows that I am an idiot. I decided to be an idiot. I called him before the Prayer break. And I told him that I think we should remain friends. He, of course, said yes. Stupid. Jalal is stupid. Jalal is stupid.

So, basically, how much should one fall? How much? This is below fall. This is sinking into oblivion. Uggghhhhhh. Now that there is not even a shard of self respect left I need to find an absolutely cute guy, and we need to go out and also invite Dr Sahab and be incredibly loving in front of him. And if possible he can lift the car with his bare arms and I can change the flat tire. And then we can both have sweaty, oily, greasy, grimy man sex in front of the car with Dr Sahab looking on and feeling sorry for his loss.

Jalal you are such an absolute fucking idiot.

Crazy

Day 10,084 – Thursday – 04 Vaisakh 1930 – 17 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 24 April 2008

And, on a more insane, psychotic, wacky note.

I think I am becoming old, irritating, boring, stupid and senile with age. Is that true?

Endorphins

Day 10,080 – Sunday – 31 Chaitra 1930 – 13 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 20 April 2008

I hate my fucking Internet Wallah Guy. Not so much because my internet connection fucking sucks and I havent had a proper internet connection for the past two weeks. But because he is not cute at all and still insists on wearing tight t shirts and ugly shorts. And, although I am definitely not averse to male displays of skin, I would rather not see this guys skin. Unless I am horny. Which, nowadays, I am not.

So, things at work are finally working out well. Quite well. And no trouble on that front. Except for the fact that I have been told that I need to talking as loudly as I do because it disturbs other people. Sure, it is ok for everyone else in the building to scream their lungs out, but I think it is wrong if I do so. And when I say scream, I mean scream! People scream, and so do I. I am not loud goddamnit!!! So shut up!

And on an important note, I have changed three hair styles in the past two weeks. Three. And I dont think I am done. There were days, when I used to have a completely different hairstyle for work and a completely different one for the evening. Does this mean that my hair are wonderful and help me become a better person? Or does this mean that I need to hire a panel of psychologists and psychiatrists who need to study me and then suggest cures? I dont know. It is up to you readers to decide. And, to be honest, all this sudden explosion of typing. Endorphins. From the exercise. I love seratonin and endorphins. Sound like Ancient Turkish Gods. And if they are; I would like to sleep with both of them. Please!

As per earlier promises of sharing of information. My diet and exercise have had an effect. I have lost some weight, and most importantly, I think I am starting to loose inches as well. Which makes my climb the ladder of the sex arena. A very very helpful thought indeed!

And yes, things with Dr Sahib are going quite well.