Spitting Out

I just got up from a 4 hours sleep, which is too less considering I didn't sleep for the past 52 hours. But, I just couldn't lie sleeping with all those repeated dark dreams haunting me. I wanted to get up and run  away, but I am too tired. How else do I take out what's pissing me off for the last whole month (probably ever since it happened first, three years back). 

I couldn't have regretted anything more than I do living that one day inside that office. I knew it was a mistake; standing for myself, speaking out my mind. It couldn't have been a worse time to do so. Nothing in life will I regret more than those few minutes of my life in the dark lord's office. Quite honestly, regretting going to Kolkata after my school doesn't seem to even qualify for the list of my regrets in life anymore; it is this bad. Post the Kolkata episode of my life, I had decided not to regret anything in life, for I thought there wouldn't be anything worse than choosing the wrong place and career. As it turns out, I was wrong. That probably wasn't even a thing to regret, I didn't have the slightest idea back then of how it feels to 'actually' regret something. It is million times painful than I thought it to be.

It is not anger, not frustration or irritation. It is much more beyond that. If there was a word to describe the feeling of 'wanting' to die not because you're suicidal, but because you want to be; I would be that word right now. I have always been clear about 'there's no point complaining, when you can't help it', but I have breached my own ideologies. It seems like all that talk of never regretting, stop complaining, live with it, that's how life is and the other million fucking things is all but bullshit. Pure and simple.

Living with a regret is the worse thing to happen to anyone, and saying this I don't want to indicate that I have already sailed through the biggest regret of my life. It is going to last for six months, and maybe more. 

It is that one person who has fucked my life once before, and is happily doing again right now. It is only fair to call him a 'pig', that everyone does. But sometimes I feel bad for the pigs whose name he is tarnishing. Pigs are more 'human' than him, and I feel there is a desperate need of adding a new word to the common vocabulary, to describe what he is. All the abuses he gets never do the justice to what he in real is, and that's why it's even more frustrating. You can't even say things and get happy. It won't ever be easy. Abusing him won't put you at peace, killing him would be too 'kind' for what he deserves. 

Guess, I will have to satisfy myself saying things to him.

But, I shall soon be doing things. Six months.

To him.

For those millions of poor lives he has contaminated with his presence.