Sleep has been my pseudo state ever since I woke up from my sleep.
Sleepy, I was at the tennis courts with yogi. Sleepy, I managed the nonsense at home around a breakfast that was more like a dinner meal - dal and burnt sabzi complemented with experimental dessert of curd topped with rhododendron extract. Sleepy, I set of for work. Sleepy, I found myself having actually made it to the workplace. Sleepy, I topped up on coffee. Sleepy, I realized the futility of the previous activity. Sleepy, I daydreamed of a satisfying sleep soon as I returned home. Sleepy, I finished trying out a google doodle. Sleepy, I engaged in distracted conversations with the people in charge.
Sleepy, I blog.
It all comes to the late nighter, spent much in celebration of setting up my desktop at yogi's place, split between Far Cry 2, a Bengali film Gandu, and the art house cinema of Pradeep Kishen's Massey Babu. though exciting things were in anticipation of this night, I soon found lacking an accomplice, as all my tasteful selections were not digested well by the Y, whose sleep talking by the fifth chapter of M.B. reminded me to never imagine a carnivalesque atmosphere around outside the mainstream stuff i.e. the big bang theory or angry birds. But yet, alone, I dived deep into the night's existence, until the Y started to complain about the discomfort my viewing was causing him. Then I tuned myself out of the euphoria of cinema, sat in silence for a while, then resigned to sleep.
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