3.

I think half my life has been spent dancing naked in front of my mirror and the other half has been spent having full conversations with myself. I am, and most humbly I say this, the best conversationalist and the best listener all rolled up in one. When I talk to myself I understand what the other person is feeling completely and I can relate perfectly. It’s hard to find someone like that who you can talk to.

One day my father caught me talking to myself and he looked at me strangely. I felt extremely apologetic about the whole thing because he looked at me as if I was that crazy man in Shivajinagar who talks to himself and waves his penis about. He’s quite friendly I think. I don’t know many people who are so interested in you that they would wave their genitalia at you. I most certainly would love to wave my vagina at certain people whom I love a lot –but they would get emotionally scarred because SOCIETY dictates that gonad-waving is bad.

But after that look my father gave me I stopped talking to myself that much. And if I did talk to myself I would whisper. Now what this did to me was hurt my feelings. Because when you whisper with someone occasionally it means that you are in love or that you have a secret or that you are just being silly. But when you whisper all the time… well I don’t know what that means.

But I did know a girl who whispered all the time and frankly all I wanted to do was punch her face till it reached her anus and call it a day. I couldn’t do that, of course- not because it’s physically impossible but because she would have gone crying to her mommy or worse still she would have called me a bully.

Many times in my life I have been called a bully. But the fact is that I am not one. I am more like a gentle elephant that roams the Savannah flapping her ears gently to cool her bulk. I am the protector of the herd but without all the wrinkly grey bits. A bully is someone who heaps their insecurities on people who they feel are inferior.
I am then the OPPOSITE.
I absorb people’s fears and doubts and just let all sorts of people unload their worries onto me-much like the gentle elephant I think, who for millennia has been carrying around human crap like luggage and annoying children. And I think people would realize I was not a bully if they saw me as a real person who had fun and let loose- basically if they saw me dancing naked. Of course it might offend them or turn them on – depending on their frame of mind and whether I use scarves or not.

But let me get back to my point which is – I love to dance. Now I am aware that I do not dance very well- or maybe I do? But I just love it so. As a child, nothing could stop me from dancing. But then the teenage years hit and so did shyness. And that I think is why I turned to alcohol – just so I could dance without inhibition. And I think in my head that is truly truly pathetic!
How can one love something so much yet depend on a crutch to perform said loved act? It’s like saying I love having sex but I’m not very good at it so let me swallowsome Viagra so I can perform better – oh. Well that makes a lot of sense actually.

Wait a minute.

So I love drinking too. Do I need more alcohol to supplement the drinking of original amount of alcohol so that I can drink alcohol better? Or have more fun while doing it? Yes? No? maybeeee?

The point that I’m trying to make is- don’t wear pants. Talk to yourself in the mirror. Be an elephant.
I think life just becomes a little more peaceful then.