I sit down to write most nights. 

But I can't seem to. 

No thought is relevant enough.

No idea is sustained for too long.

But there's something different about tonight I guess. Because I have managed to type a few redundant sentences. And it's been some hours since my alcohol consumption hence I know this isn't drunk writing. Yet, it's equally scattered. 

So much has changed suddenly that it doesn't even affect me as much anymore. Best Friend had once told me a long time back that as much as I crib and bitch about them and claim to hate them, men would always be a part of my life. And a major part, at that. Best Friends have this annoying habit of knowing things about you before you're ready to acknowledge them for yourselves.
Anyhow, I've met some very interesting men here. Men that have seen the forbidden corners of my Paying Guest room, ever so sneakily; men who have sent me hot pictures of me; men who have paid some rather hefty alcohol bills; men who have stayed up with me all night talking about how communication in this world is shallow now; men who've sipped red wine with me as we smoked joints in the rain at a certain Pune balcony; men who have taken me for looong drives to the end of the Mumbai city only to be walked in on by cops... I hope I'm not leaving too many out. But basically, men who have been nice. And interesting.

And the ones who haven't been, I don't think too much of them.
I'm too young to.
I'm old enough to not.