A PEN,FEW PAPERS AND A CRACK HEAD PART-3

Next morning to my surprise i didnt feel like an emotional fool,as I always use to the next day,after I cry.So this meant that there was something with the whole enterprise that seriously struck some chords within.The time ,till now has passed on quite normally,infact better than that,because I did whatever i planned to,and if you know me well,then u will also know why I make such a big deal about it.
So,now my imagination being the wild pelican it is(ya,pelican with larger beaks than you can ever imagine)is working out a conversation with her,if i were in her hostel now either lying upside down or performing somersaults in her bed,with her continous shoutings to warn me that she'l rip my head off if i dont stop acting childish because she hates it and for the same reason I love it…
Me:"Why the bloody hell,do I keep missing you whenever I feel something worthwhile happening in my life?It's ok,if i think of you in bad times,because i want to brood over my fate,act sulky and want to irritate someone,merely to lessen my despair with the saddistic pleasure of troubling a composed person,for which the best choice is you.But then why at the dead of the night,when i should be dreaming of some hunk was I thinking of you and that too without any obvious reasons?I'm either abnormally emotional or psychic or this entire friendship thing is becoming an emotional addiction for me or you are a seriously seducive scorpion,as you say about your starsign or is it a sunsign?"
She:"Pity on you,look at the reasons you'v come up with.All of them equally stupid and alienated to practical beings"
Me:"who told we are practical beings?"
She:"Oh,please!you might not be,but I'm.I dont evidently belive in all this intimacy things,though i show off at times,just for fun and send you some cheesy sms that too mislead by you.And who do you think you are?Paulo Coelho?"
Me:"Why,Paulo Coehlo likes jumping between two beds,like me doing now,completely ignoring the probability of slipping my leg and cracking my neck,just for the pleasure of feasting on your scowling face and angry glances?Wow,he's some adventurous man then.No wonder,you wanted to marry him,even at his eighties..."
She:Oh ya,do you hav any problem with it?You are such a pig.No point arguing with you.Get lost,I'v got better things to do."
Me:You get lost first and i'v got betterer things to do,and tell Sunu sorry from me for ruining her bed and that I'l clean it up for her."
She:And,mine?"
Me:tell your ....... to do it for you"
She:oh ya i will,you ....... , ....... & ........"
THE REST CLASSIFIED

The dialogues wernt pure fiction contrary to the d rest of d write up(autobiographical tinges certainly do add to d marketing values)And about the real reason behind this "roots calling"kind of write out .As usual i wanted someone to creatively express my inspirational woes which again wont survive this night.And who else in this whole wide world would be deranged enough to listen to all this crap other than her,digest it and talk as if I'm a genius or an idiot(depending on d choice of subject nd our existing moodswings)then quite effortlessly forget all about it after a tight night's sleep.But then why should I waste the rest of my night's sleep writing this trash about us(see,Im already feeling stupid),when I know very well that owing to my frequent moodswings and haughty nature & her ever changing ever fluctuating character and weird insights,this is going to be brutally laughed at and butchered into pieces,sooner or later...
Gosh,I do seriously miss her....dont I?Even if its for selfish reasons?......

P.S.courtesy-a diary entry sometime last May

nd d stuff is pretty made up nd exaggerated enuf to make it interestin wid nly slight resemblences to living characters...reality isnt dis glossy 4 sure...