How Do i even name this ...!!

Hiii Duuude,

Hii from the Other people’s side . I told to you day before yesterday that I will be writing a blog about two unlikely objects talking to each other.I thought you will ask about where is that post but you seem to have forgotten that or is that lying somewhere in back of your mind.So,this post is not about that one . It is a small story about trust and how the information you choose to tell or choose to discard affects other people.

No one likes to talk about their insecurities and certainly not to one person whom you don’t know what he will do with the information.This brings me to one question…How do you determine the worth of any information..Does it depend on the processing of information or the person to whom you are telling it or the level of trust rappo existing..?

For Example:- I tell you I have a weird observation thingy that if I go to any where and see a dustbin,I will start to observe the contents in it.

Too complex?...We’ll break it down..!!..

Without any stories my mind will never re..!!!

Not long time ago,there was a man called Freud. He made his living by picking things from dustbins of other people. In short,He was a Rag picker.All along his day he used to roam in important places , mostly households but not the commercial ones because he felt there were too much of rags to pickup from Commercial places.One fine day he came along a household dustbin in TAUTA nagar and finds a small wooden statue which has been discarded . He sells it for a handsome profit.You see the problem of giving information to people who don’t deserve it is that they try to convert it into a form of their understanding. But Hey,Not everyone needs and wants the same thing, right ? (Trust me,this was told to me by a person who just wanted to disapprove me)..He starts visiting that place regularly with the hopes of finding more valuable items.One fine day while going there he sees a damsel in distress he thought to himself “Aww…See how cute she is even when she is in trouble…….Duude I know these lines are low even for a guy like me but there is this guy who is sitting right next to me in office and reading all what I am typing yeh mera jaan khaa rahaa hai…”..

I tell him I will eat lunch in home and he’s like no get your lunch and give it to me ..And he wants to know what I am writing and all …!!!

But still how can I refrain from writing.So the point being that I hate this office and I hate this stupid fucker asshole dude…He’s always telling some chutiya stories about how he saved the world blab la bla and He’s crushing my creative flow…See how my quality of thoughts is going down…!!!!

Sorry for jumping straightly to conclusion duude...I will make this upto you ..!!!!

Dustbins are also one of the ways to get an approximated image of the person who is living there. Bring any stranger to your room and allow him/her to observe your room for 25 mins and you’d be surprised to know his findings even if he/she doesn’t know you at all. Now Imagine

The paradox to this would be dying people who can process the information and might be in a position to act upon it if they choose to.

Just text me during your lunch time and I will call…!!!!!