Feb 2, 2011

Dear Sweet Lord!

Dear god, you know i don't ask for many things from you. Well, it is probably because i don't believe you exist. But hey, play along, alright? As you would hypothetically know, i don't like beating around the bushes much. No, sir. Catch the turkey, i say, and bash it's head right in. So, let's move on to business.

Now, living in a city filled with 7 million people, you would feel it's natural to dash into one or two souls once in a while. Or maybe you wouldn't know. Not many people make it to where you live, do they? You don't have to stand in the sweltering heat and wait for an overcrowded public transport vehicle with a score of other greasy people, beside you. Nor do you need to have your lunch in a canteen which is way to small to service the crowd that comes in. No, you don't. You don't have to smile and shrug away every single shove in your back when you're still waiting for those on board to descend. You don't have to control yourself everyday from turning around and telling the dimwit that two people can't be at the same spot at the same time and he's gonna have to ruddy wait if he wants to get on that bus. Also, if he has to satisfy his homoerotic fantasies, he can blasted well go and lay his hands on someone else. What's that you're saying? Oh, they're probably uneducated, malnourished or maybe just in a hurry to get somewhere. Yes, yes, i understand. You still can't get on board a bus unless the people are done descending, sorry. But, you see, down here, in the land of the petty mortals, we have these things called as colleges. They are supposed to be where people go to get 'wholesome' education. Etiquette and common courtesy, pretty much a part of it, you could say. What do i know of courtesy, you ask me? Well, skip along down here. Be nice to me, don't try to screw me over just because you can't understand me and you'll find out for yourself. So, at these colleges, we have canteens. We go there to eat food, hopefully with enough space so as to not spill someone else' coffee with barely a twitch of our nose. And, being the good boys that we are, we never forget to wash our hands at the end of our meal. To get to the wash basin earlier, we may cut in queue, push someone out of the way, simply use our hideous mass to plough through without as much as excusing ourselves and save a glorious 15 seconds. But hey, we wash our grimy ol' hands. That's what matters, right?

Now, dear sweet lord, don't get me wrong. I'm not a wimpy li'l crybaby who goes running home to his mommy whenever any small thing goes wrong. Mostly because i can't, but, you knew that already, didn't you? I'm all for everybody knuckling up and bracing themselves to live in a world where everybody is accepted and, as far as possible, every character, opinion and point of view be tolerated. Yes, what the H-man did to the J-s was wrong. But, there are other issues such as humour, such as personal taste which are widely hunted down and killed. Being politically correct is a pain in the you-know-what. And politically correct humour is not, should not and must not be the only accepted form. As long as someone finds it funny and it doesn't directly harm anyone, you're darn right, it's humour. And personal taste, oh almighty, is something everyone is entitled to, isn't it? Living in a world where Fat is the f-word, where you aren't allowed to say you like fair/dark people that bit more without being scrutinized and ostracized is a little trying at times. But hey, i'm a mere mortal, i'm supposed to bend over, aren't i?

Why i write to you, is to ask you to end this already. All the blabber above is just about strangers. You don't wanna hear me chatter about the 'near and dear' ones, do you? So, send over that great wave of yours, or come in yourself, riding on a magnificent white steed. Unleash Lucifer, if you will or just help Marvin the Martian succeed for once. You, obviously, can't or don't care enough to build an open-minded society. Why not screw us over, already?

Yours devotedly,

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