People who soliloquize in public are often deemed crazy by
the society. By that definition, I think a writer is the craziest person alive.
Imagine putting the thoughts that you often rehearse to yourself in a sheet of
paper or on the surrogate computer screen.
All of the time you are like- talking to yourself.
You talking to you. You saying things to you. You smiling at you.
Damn.
Writers are crazy people.
And by the notion of such a cliché, Mr. Henry was damn crazy.
All of the time you are like- talking to yourself.
You talking to you. You saying things to you. You smiling at you.
Damn.
Writers are crazy people.
And by the notion of such a cliché, Mr. Henry was damn crazy.
First things first.
Mr. Henry did not consider himself a writer, he was rather a man of many worlds, most of which remained confined within his skull, and often penetrated into sheets of toilet paper.
Mr. Henry did not consider himself a writer, he was rather a man of many worlds, most of which remained confined within his skull, and often penetrated into sheets of toilet paper.
Mr. Henry was considered crazy because he used to write
little stories on sheets of toilet paper.
Toilet paper- expendable, biodegradable, difficult to write on.
Mr. Henry’s crazy obsession reached epic proportion when he brought toilet papers that would last a year if used continuously by a person suffering from chronic diarrhea. A hobby gone way too far, if one may say.
Toilet paper- expendable, biodegradable, difficult to write on.
Mr. Henry’s crazy obsession reached epic proportion when he brought toilet papers that would last a year if used continuously by a person suffering from chronic diarrhea. A hobby gone way too far, if one may say.
But critics in the end would agree that he wrote beautiful
stories. Stories made up of beautiful names and places, that if read out loud
would dulcify the auditory atmosphere. More like poetry.
Poetry in prose.
The device that works nine out of ten times.
Poetry in prose.
The device that works nine out of ten times.
After Mr. Henry had written continuously for a year, and
weaved out his beautiful thoughts in words in a seemingly truculent manner, the
world had decided to take notice.
The toilet paper company aware of the development had decided
to print the stories in the next product of their toilet paper. It must have
been a fair marketing strategy. If anyone listened to the Intellectuals
anymore, they would hear-
‘A cultural revolution was taking place.’
A special edition of toilet paper with printed stories were now available in the honor of Mr. Henry.
It would perhaps forge the consciousness of an entire generation united in latrine reading,
much to the utter dismay and brouhaha of some well-read men frequenting public libraries.
‘A cultural revolution was taking place.’
A special edition of toilet paper with printed stories were now available in the honor of Mr. Henry.
It would perhaps forge the consciousness of an entire generation united in latrine reading,
much to the utter dismay and brouhaha of some well-read men frequenting public libraries.
The climax of the generation winked maliciously and said,
where there was a dearth of readers, the only way to reach them was by wiping their ass.
where there was a dearth of readers, the only way to reach them was by wiping their ass.
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