God was Murdered

Jaibore Busterature Fetishtival Traditional fuck-ups like ticket & train glitches, hotel & ID troubles, kabootars peeing & pooing all over me – Even my all-time favorite bitch fights between the girlfriend & the close friend who happened to be an attractive girl – didn’t happen. So is my life boring this time around in the not-so-chilly Jaipore JLF? You wish. I just have different fuck-ups this year. I’ve taken up a job which pays twice of what my ex-job did. It is also twice as drab, degrading (I’m not a traditional prostitute but I do get screwed), dreary, and deeply depressing. But mostly it is an incessant violation of basic human rights & suppression of all human creativity at first sight. It is modern day slavery where I’m handcuffed to a chair & a mouse. My eyes are assaulted for 40 hours a week with a screen that remorselessly tries to strangle my soul. And I’ve aggravated my two-decade old disorder of peeing more than I drink to a critical leve

Words from the Author {affiliated with no gods}: This letter contains offensive, blasphemous views. I’m not sorry for voicing any of my views. Because I believe in them. If you believe otherwise I respect that. Can you respect me for having a mind of my own? Or you gonna gun me down. Ernest Hemingway said: “A man can be destroyed but he can never be defeated .” --- “Aashima & Adil don’t have rules.” That’s what the poster reads right above our bed. We moved in a month ago. You all know I’m not the marriage type of person. I do love Adil. He tells me the same. I know it is true because noone can lie that well. And Adil is a terrible liar. Adil has never seen me cry in the 19 weeks we’ve been dating. It’s been 3 years since I last did. I don’t even remember why I did. I just remember I did. I must have cried about 7 times in my life. I’m a bitch you know so crying ain’t my thing. It was late at night. It was an hour ago when Adil saw me crying. I was howling like a f