Another truth about me is I am not the one who is able to engage people with my story long enough. Since childhood, I knew that I had none of it to be a great storyteller. People will drop dozing off even before I finished my third lines. But then again, I can’t get my brain to stop stimulating. I guess, only death will do that.
These little grey cells (of a brain) of mine, as a famous Mr. Hercule Poirot of Agatha Christie’s character said, that keep stories flowing in my head. It could jump from one section of finance (yes, like how to be millionaire) into another section of heart wrenching love story (like sad song of Isabella’s Search) and then into my life reality of the little mice dancing in the cages. Above all, I still think that my life is nothing and full of no story to tell.
Oh! I could be the Jack of all traits, master of nothing!
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