A wonderful thing it is, to live enough, and love enough,
to run down countless roads, and rush past all the milestones,
to see all these splendid sights, and read all those beautiful words,
to have enough, and lose enough, for several lifetimes. Perhaps more.
The further I go, the more I feel, the more I see, and the more I know, but
bittersweet irony, now the thoughts come fast, and the words... not nearly enough.

Of all the words I have to say...

Never slow down, my love... lest someday we catch up with ourselves. 

Life's moving fast enough to be just slightly out of control. New places, new people, exhilarating uncertainty and the delightful lack of familiarity. I have a fantastic job, a world of challenges and opportunities, and almost everything I could possibly need to be happy. In all honesty, I'm having a whole lot of fun. Something must be terribly wrong. 

Lazarus : Sign

flaws held to bait,
and yet
crippled remain
our minds
and hearts under
the unbearable weight
of all our loves and hate

The Bipolarity Paradox.

If one voluntarily chooses a life of manic depression, where the highs are extra high, and the lows are particularly low, citing the unnatural and overwhelming vividity of all human experience as the motivating factor, and the act of choosing that heightened quality of all emotion over plain old convenience as the guiding rational thought, the following catch-22 situation is fairly inevitable. The erratic behaviour that is a direct result of this disposition will eventually drive away all the people and things that make one happy. However, if it were not for this same disposition, those things would not make one happy enough to want them in the first place.  

Assay,

My problem is that I keep looking for reasons. I always keep asking "Why?". And then I ask "What if?". And then, "What not if?. "Is?", "Isn't?", "Was?", "Could be?", "Could have been?", "Could not have been?", "Can be?", "Can never be?", and so on. For everything that happens, (good, bad or anywhere in the between), for the things that people do or don't do, I keep scouting around, taking things apart, putting them back together in every single permutation and combination, looking for answers. Not just any answers, but good ones. Valid ones, rational ones, fair ones, and logical ones. Because I believe that the world it based on those things, or that at least, it should be. And that being fatalistic is yet another form of the mind's corruption. And that if one is more or less fair in one's own dealings and actions, he can have just the right and equal amount of it back. And that if one always has a justifiable reason for his actions, most actions made towards him must also be justifiable. But as it goes, there might not be a justifiable cause for everything. People are not always rational, logical, or fair, and constancy of purpose is so very rare a virtue, it is disconcerting. Living in a world where it is so unusual and inconvenient to not be frivolous with one's loyalties, is so taxing on everything I hold sacred. I just keep looking for the right answers, when there just might not be any. Because I want so desperately to believe that in the grand scheme of things, everything is fair. So I haunt my problems, instead of it being the other way around. All the world's worth of philosophy tells me that one must stick to their ideals and their premises. My own tells me that it is of paramount importance to place the truth, and the capacity to assess it, above all else. But it now seems to me that the only people who ever survive this life are the ones who learn to evolve. And not just evolve, but do it most rapidly, smoothly, and efficiently. I'm afraid that I've wandered off so far out in search of these answers, that I'm about to fall off the edge of this world that still remains so very square. And yet, there are still no answers to be found.  

Tales of Gain and Loss.

September 1, 2010

10:00 PM

How wonderful a thing it is, to have nothing to lose. Care about nothing. Have nothing, Own nothing. Keep nothing. Only want. And let the "want" define you, in entirety. I miss it.

............................................................

September 1, 2011

1:00 AM

The best thing about my life at the moment, is that it is absolutely unscripted. I have nothing holding me back or keeping me in one place. People, places, jobs, the several institutions you are a part of... they hold you down. Everything you love, holds you down. I love nothing. Thus, I am free.

............................................................

Never attempt to cure an addiction through abstinence. Do it through control.
Control is the only thing potent enough to make anything lose its charm. 

Clickety-Click.

I feel like this cold has crawled into my head, buried a warm hole for itself, and decided to nest in there for the winters.

In other news: Blackberry, Apple and now... Mango?

And flipping the bird at subtlety: This is both amusing, and an inside joke that 66.666% of me hopes, isn't understood.

As an aside: I fear that this blog has started to make too much sense, of late. Here you go. Problem fixed.

If that wasn't enough: I'm starting to believe that this man understood "all things macabre" better than any person who's ever lived. 

But then: There was this.

Etchings by Goya

Instituto Cervantes. 

Los Desastres de la Guerra

I shall not praise the exhibit. Instead, let me just say that what you would have read about, had you  read the piece to be found at the above link, I came unbearably close to experiencing.


Alas! 'tis true. I defiled it by clicking pictures with a cellphone camera. 

Strangely, I read that story after the exhibit, completely by accident. That very day. The Universe has been pulling an awful lot of tricks lately. Sometimes, I wonder. If a "god" did exist, he/she/it would probably be tinkering around with his/hers/its doll house (The Universe), playing out moments like these(and more elaborate ones) with his/hers/its little plastic dolls(us), just to get kicks out of the sheer mind****ing potential of it all. 

And if that still wasn't enough for you: Then you, my friend, are exactly the kind of reader this blogger is proud to have had (and hopefully, kept). Drop a hello, and feast your mind on this piece of work.

P.S. If you seek an explanation: I don't do cliffhangers. I lure with trails of candy and throw 'em right over. Trippy, yes. 

All these years, and I'm still the kind of person who writes 2000-word emails, and hovers over the send button about a hundred times before deciding to let them rot as drafts. On the upside, in case of recourse I'll soon have an eloquently worded, impeccably punctuated, and obscenely dramatic epistolery novel ready. That is, of course, if apocalypse/terminal illness doesn't strike first. In which case, it would be just a whole lot of histrionics wasted, on a significantly lesser quantity of it. 

R.E.M. disbanded. Such utter travesty. 

2011 is, indeed, the year of much heartache. 

Let me. Not be. That obvious.

From crest to dale (back around)
Wound, is interminable dearth
To the conflict of extravagance
To the dispute of mirth.

Measured out in quints
Would be remnants of fear
The marked need for something
To make my tragedies more sincere.

Quid pro quo, will also end up making the whole world blind.

An Observation (Updated)

SRK is the new Rajinikanth.
Edit all references accordingly.