Strange Choice of Title

Actually, I wanted to write a book. It began a while ago, and like all things, remained a great idea. And I know the "path to hell is paved with good intentions" and thank you for reminding me. I never have got around to it, simply because, when the hell do you get the time to simply sit, collect your thoughts, sift through the deluge, sort the interesting bits, categorize them and put them onto paper in a sequence that holds someones attention for long enough to make him or her turn the page, and the next one and the one after that, to makes sense to someone elses habit of browsing in a section of a bookstore where the store clerk accidently placed a copy. What are the odds of making money on a venture like that? Hats off to those who have actually made it the work of a lifetime. Imagine the freedom it gave you. To let ones thoughts run. To be able to do what you do without any reference to a location to do it in, just because you want to do it. So I thought, why not just start putting the stuff together. Let it flow at random, in bits and pieces, in whatever sequence it comes out in. And once the initial wave of enthusiasm has extracted enough from the far recessess of your memory, and it is out there on paper, take a look at it to see whether it made any sense. Was there a story in there somewhere to tell? Just earlier today, I was watching something on tele, probably a movie, in which there is this kid who wants to write and he says to himself "Sh..t, maybe I can't do this, after all?" And he wrote that down. And then he wrote the next thing that came to his mind, and then the next. And before dawn, he had a 100 pages of jottings on his table. That was the inspiration. So, here goes!