Up until now, I haven’t ever used my journal to malign somebody, or to write an actual tirade against someone I know. I can’t claim to actually know this person—he happens to be the worthless pile of shit that drives the cab/van I’ve hired to take me to school and back every day—but this will do. Right. So this brainless pile of mutated genes never drove well anyway, and he’s been badmouthed appropriately by some of the people who travel with me. I don’t generally feel any need for me to add to the already infinitely vast amounts of criticism he gets on a daily basis from people who are justly fed up with his tardiness, rash driving and utter lack of intelligence, plus a repulsive personality that would remind one of crudeness found in slums. I habitually curse him within myself, since the last thing I want to do is stoop to the level of conversing with such subhuman scum. Except for one time when I snapped at him and told him to buzz off when he asked me for money for whatever reason, I never actually said anything to his face. But today—in the afternoon, that is—excitement occasioned by the installment of a music system in the worthless tin can that is his car led him to play utterly odious music at really high volume. For whatever reason, the rest of the people in the car didn’t seem to exhibit much annoyance at this, possibly because the songs (I wouldn’t call them ‘songs’) were in their language. I importuned them to tell that sonuvabitch driver to turn the damn thing off, or at least lower the volume, but they changed the subject to something else each time. Traitors. I didn’t want to tell the driver myself, since that would involve speaking in Hindi, and that was the last thing I wanted to do in front of my friends. There would be no end to the jokes. Anyway, I endured the whole thing by resorting to cover my ears the whole ride. But I won’t be so tolerant tomorrow. If I hear a peep out of that second-hand music system, I’m going to yell at that ape in a way that, like the last time, would make him feel as though he were being belittled by a person of superior class for the damnable act of existing. In the meantime, I’ll be cursing him until something actually happens. Damn that motherfucking pile of rotten shit. Such people seriously don’t deserve to exist.
On an unrelated note, for some reason, driven by whim, most probably, I picked up Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows the day before yesterday and finished two-thirds of the book. It’s indescribably magnetizing. Rowling’s imagination is unparalleled, and I don’t care what people say about her having lost touch in the more recent books. (I vaguely remember something to this effect being said somewhere.) The latest ones are as amazing as ever. Totally overshadows the works of overly ambitious amateurs like Paolini (was that his name?). So before I move on to anything else, I’m going to finish Book 7, and possibly Book 5, which is my favorite, immediately after.
So, all right, even though I said quite categorically in my last entry that I’ll desist from reviewing Bleach chapters, I’ll make this an exception. Barragan is super-annoying, and I can’t wait for him to die. Judging by all those Kidō barriers and stuff, Barragan is not likely to escape the explosion of Soifon’s bankai this time. I hope to death that Barragan dies. It would be an enormous anticlimax if he escaped this one unscathed as well. Death to Barragan!
That is all.
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