Slinging scribbles

For me, a paint or a picture, none that is real, relegated to a bench, monotony is the new stench. Judge; crisis! A quiet insider in me, tatters, a little shy, shudders, all that was true is all, for true? The veil of hypocrisy unveils unfailingly, wailing at sorrows that are none. Create; bereave! Silence is the new confusion, torn apart by the age, says a savage, bound by nostalgia of ages, Wilted, wasted wanderlust in wonderland, for worse? Drop;dead! Pleasure preys on the thirst of greed, greed is the new breed, breed forms the unholy grid, finally succumbs to the dreadful deed! There unfolds a trail of paths searching for the light, bigotry, lies are all it finds, for there are many lights, those ones that delight, oh yes, many, but none that claim to not provide the house of light! All that discipline is gifted, or a practiced chain, Sane, but banal for the bane! Time ricochets backtracking shame, Now flame the blame and hug the lame! Insanity bred by ins...

Well,  I lost a badminton match in the college tournament between the juniors and the seniors. It was a bad defeat, but then, all defeats are supposed to be bad. I was supposed to win as the number one seed from the seniors but losing was all I could afford.  It shouldn't be as depressing obviously. 'Shit happens', they say. 'Losing is a part and parcel that the game brings. He won only because you lost. Its only a game', and so it follows. But, this is certainly not the first time I have been confronted with this problem. Every time, its the loss that drives me crazy and if i remember distinctly, my childhood sets up a pretty good example of how sore a loser can be. Why is it so hard for me to lose? Or is it just the same for everybody? Perhaps, its peculiar to me for I have been more often than not, on a golden spot. It simply means, even when, we as a team have screwed up, I have performed well so there have been very few and far-off chances of me sharing th...