Dear Journal,
The incessant noise from Versova Welfare School and the ground is so irritating. Who could be joyful with all this intrusive sound? Ganesh Chaturthi is going to be so annoying. And I'm not riling any gods.
Today is Janmashtami. I just spoke to Rao for literally 5 minutes for which he is going to charge us 1500 bucks. What a sham! I hate him. That's 300 bucks per minute. He must be stinking rich.
Another rich prick was Shetty who said I'm paranoid schizophrenic. That's when I prayed with all my might for a clean chit. And Esther said there is nothing wrong with me; I'm just a little obsessive. I always knew Shetty was lying. His dick is in his brain.
I mean I meet people -- married or not and people are so perverted these days with all the porn and masturbating. I wrote about it quite abrasively on Facebook not to too many likes. People tell me they need sex; men feel I need it too and propose a physical relationship. At this age that's all I get. Even when I was younger and men were more romantic it was all about sex. I've never been boy crazy like Archana and Salvia in school and I'm not about to become like that now. I just don't crave sex. It's nice. But I don't crave it.
I would rather be single than be in a purely sexual relationship.
The noisy songs from my window, the Tv blaring and Pa shouting into his phone all together are just too irritating. I don't think any God is happy with bhajans. Thus, even incessant chanting of Nmrk doesn't work. It's the concentrated intention that does.
I'm going to meet Ankesh in the evening. I want to get out of Rao's clutches. Should have become a doctor. Truly good money in it.
I am grateful for my family.
I am grateful for Stephen King.
I'm grateful for Leonardo Di Caprio.
I'm grateful for Maya Angelou.
I am grateful for my job.
I'm grateful for the money I have.
I'm grateful for my dreams.
I'm grateful for my ideating brain.
Love,
Me.
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