turns out that i'm making a mess of one thing that i prided myself on.. keeping promises, that is.. and what makes this worse, is the fact, that i'm dealing with only one promise (yes, in singular) here, and that too i haven't come across till now to keep..
the thin spine stares at me every night from the shelf, and i feel a horrible and sharp jibe at my conscience.. one good thing, it proves that i at least seem to be having one with me.. and that does no good.. because, the promise is still not fulfilled.. or even close to being fulfilled..
what keeps me from it is the essence.. its a book about 'love'.. a damned 'love story'.. so, ask me why i have that sitting on my shelf? because, it features M in its credits.. that IS the ONLY reason for me to even buy that.. and when i did i never gave it a thought of reading.. or even, turning the pages.. the reason--its a 'damned love story'.. yeah, you can say, i'm kinda cynical about this 'emotion'.. no offence..
so, why the promise? because of my one stupid blabbering that google brought up in some search of Mr.Author, that led him to read the nonsense blabbering, that further led him to comment on that nonsense blabbering, which ultimately made me to promise.. aaarrrggghhhhhh!!!!!
plus the fact that i never committed to any time limit worsens it, coz now i have no bloody compelling incentive to go anywhere near in keeping the promise.. and all this makes those jibes at my conscience all the more fierce..
i know, Mr.Author is never gonna get a whiff of it.. he is probably not even aware of any such thing happening.. but, it still remains at that--
i'm making a big mess of a promise.. "my" promise.. and it's not helping me..
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