Cigarettes are a luxury and so is beer. Food is all but a necessity I cannot bear.

Been broke for so long it's not true,
Wanted a good deal, though no, it's not new.
Lot's of people know me and all of them know,
My pocket's as empty as a fallen angel's soul.

Bangalore yet again proves to be a metaphorical black hole subjective to monetary resources. Month after month earnings disappear and no savings grace the bank account with its presence. When an inherent apathy for money and not for what it can buy makes you do nothing to earn the extra cash and at the same time buy all that you can manage in the available time, being insanely broke is just unavoidable. Stacked to the apathy just mentioned is a handicap, a latent inability to manage anything that reaches beyond the range of moving your limbs around. Thankfully time management skill are being inculcated on a regular basis due to current necessities. Jam! Damn! Jam it in the whole idea that managing money doesn't make you less of a hippy. A smart hippy, go on preaching all the wonderful snippets of information and philosophical ideologies that you have acquired through ages of living in the internet. But make sure you have a teeny bit of money left to feed yourself by the end of the month. It is indeed a good idea. Aah well let's see how eight more days of utter fasting fares in the plan. Already skinny as a rail; you did arrive in this place with a round belly. Now's it's more a right handed parabola with respect to the y and z axes.

The management skills ought to be developed before you forget the taste of good beer and the feeling of a smoke in a shelter from the rain. The coolness that envelopes the warmth from the cigarette. So many of your little big indulgences depend on the same cash that you deplore and denounce. Damn, the monologue sounds so freakishly pathetic from a third person's perspective. Who hates money? You have heard somewhere that, if you learn to love money it will come and stay with you, that makes it sound like a woman. So wonder what happens if you lie that you love it! Will it believe you? Trust you enough to move in with you? Make love to you? Well suppose that's exactly what you are doing right now! Making some money off some work you are apathetic about and hoping for hopes best that you will find the <fuck> Indian dream? Oh come on, not the Indian dream, that makes it sound more pathetic. For the want of a better idea, there is no dream. there's just some stupid fiction.

And at the end for all the hopes and dreams: My Bloody Valentine.