I haven't written for the last few days...and now i don't know what to say. Mmm....I'm going to be working in this bookshop called Twist N tales starting tomorrow. According to my dad it's 'like asking a drunkard to guard a liquor store'.

If my skin was branded to mark me as being of inferior race, I wouldn't feel inferior. I wouldn't complain of the pain. I would feel restricted...helplessly categorized. Wonder how the African slaves felt. The Haitians and Cubans. Even the Jews with their yellow star during World War II.

I told Ankush that my art was 'somwhat restricted'. 'There's no such thing,' he said. 'I know you're a very passionate person, so i'm certain you have it in you'. All this in regard to his asking me to buy an olive-green T-shirt for him and paint it.

Ever heard of anyone getting an upset stomach by smoking after a meal?