Nearly a third of a day ago I was told by someone to lead the life of an  ascetic. That was the medication prescribed for certain symptoms rising  out of my habit of baring my mind. The greatest mystery about truth is  that it is often more misunderstood as lie than falsehood itself. As  truth got unfolded, my lines were read between and earlier statements  were (re)interpreted to a completely false conclusion. I suppose we are  so used to deception, that a candid expression is almost universally  noticed, either to an applause or to suspicion. I take facts by facts  but my expectations about others doing the same is definitely a thing of  the Mars, if not Utopia.
I don't smoke, nor drink or have a  fatal attraction towards television that I can get rid off. Must an  ascetic abandon his uninterrupted nurturing of some unworthy passion, I  decided to put my habit of being on the internet to a test. I decided to  stay disconnected till tomorrow morning. Not doing this for the first  time, but not as the first step of becoming an ascetic.
9:25pm. A  force can only be replaced by another force of same or more strength.  Passion must replace passion, love must replace love, hatred can be  replaced by hatred towards hate, if I cannot get online I must be doing  something equally occupying. I had started to watch "The Berlin  Express". It just ended. Twice I had the urge to take a peek at my  mailbox, but I able to curb it. Next reporting, an hour later.
10:32pm  now, and I smell something burning. The scene in front is showing a  person from an Italian asylum taking a leak with his fly still buttoned,  but it didn't take a minute to dawn upon me that the smell bothering me  isn't, possibly can't be, coming from the movie 'Amarcord' but from my  kitchen where a rather watery ensemble of veggies is supposed to be  slowly enraged to perfection. Shoot!!! I quickly go and fill the pot  with water to its brink. Dessert to ocean in a the wink of en eye. And I  have managed to spent one more hour avoiding the urge.
11:02pm.  Finished making 5 round flat whole-wheat breads. Miracle of technology  has gifted the ability of enjoying homemade "roti"/"chapati" to people  challenged with rolling pins and dough. Now I can make chapatis at the  rate of asymptotically one in every 5 minutes, start to finish and no  messy guts lying around. I also reaffirmed my theory of losing weight,  cooking food for self. It has nothing to do with the taste, in fact it  better be friendly to one's palate to facilitate a long term entate; the  energy spent during cooking is enough to burn the excess carb one might  be taking in. Well of course, the person concerned has to possess the  inability to sit quietly at a place for even a minute: I have been  walking around constantly during the last half an hour. Still no sign of  the return of any urge. Good so far.
Two minutes have passed  since the hands of my watch agreed on their positions. Midnight has just  happened. I had to stop "Breakfast at Tiffany's" because I didn't want  to spend the whole evening only watching movies. I had to anyway switch  to this Hollywood flick because it is cumbersome to eat and watch the  subtitles of the previous one. I better start making my bed. I just made  a quick pass at the breeze from the balcony ... it is lovely. I  remembered I had to send an email to two students about some web stuff  ... but I cannot take the risk of opening the door of a card house; the  whole effort will wash away in an instant. There is a photo staring at  me from my desktop. I will let it stare and shutting my mind, drop the  curtains atop my laptop. Good night, bis morgan.
Two birds woke  me up. It is 6:50am now. They were fighting, or jostling but in a rather  hostile manner, out of my sight; but foolish as they are, they didn't  bother to consider my ears and were just outside my window. Rascals, had  to scare them off ... the next they always do is lit my floors with  litter. I remember falling off to sleep last night while I was working  on a, what I think is incorrect, proof in Flavio's paper; I want to  email him and seek an explanation. Email?! Coming back to me pretending  to be abstinent, I think I will postpone the ritual of breaking it once I  reach office. Soon after I woke up, I started 'St Matthew's Passion'  (this one is sung in English and indeed sounds unfit) and the wonderful  sacred music is currently occupying my heart and soul. I have been told I  am living in darkness, maybe this music will lighten it up. I better  prepare to leave for work. Next, from froffice.
8:57am. In front of my work PC and posting this blog. Long wait is over. And I did not miss anything. The good part is for the last half of the waiting time, I wasn't even eager for this moment to arrive. Maybe I will this thing again ... but I surely will not bore you again.
 
 

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