This is going to be fun. I'm sitting here, typing this, here and now, as it says in the title. And I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to say next.
Well, as for
do next (I'm slightly off right now, so expect tons of italics. This blog entry should probably be removed as soon as its purpose for existance has ceased). Oh, of course, obligatory
Engrish page of the day (my comment? Somebody should adopt this as a Philosophy of Life. See where it goes)
This sem is so, so wrong. It was all wrong from day one, pretty much, and it just got worse from there. What's wrong with me? Why do I always screw everything up? Didn't I try hard enough? Is it possible to try harder? Am I going to try (to try?) harder next year, and end up - bam! - right here, here and now, again?
I don't know. Maybe it's everything. Maybe it's nothing at all. Something has caught hold of my brain, and is sucking it dry of everything - dreams, hopes, et al. Nothing remains, nothing abides, nothing makes sense. Everything is liquid, everything's unreal, everything isn't worth it, everything's weird.
Think I'm mad? Yeah, yeah I'm mad. I'm not sure what I'm mad at. I suppose I'm simultaneously mad at everything for being wrong (for being two centimetres away from where it's supposed to be - or is it more like two metres?).
This was so not how it was meant to be. I shouldn't complain. I never really had too many hopes from life: just, happiness. However, whichever, howmuchever money, howmanyever years old, whatever, whatever. But it's not happening. Kids, when you're young, wish for something a bit more fun!
Let me go on (no, don't try and stop me, let me just sit down and complain and complain and complain, over here where no-one can hear me). Wait, I need a break (where's slashdot when I need it? Some-where, over the rainbow ... ?)
Okay, back. Why am I here? In this lovely lab (which smells of horseshit), in this great university (which is going nowhere fast) in this lovely city (of pink slips and cold rooms) on this glorious planet? Why? God, I can only suppose,
really has a sick sense of humour. I should have stayed in Bangalore. Mediocrity was always my forte.
Am I learning anything? Am I really doing anything different? I don't think so, or, it doesn't feel that way. It feels -
I feel - just the same as before I came here: lonely, isolated, alone, afraid, uncaring, unbothered, beside the point, beside the life, beside everything. I don't get it. I just don't get it.
Did you know I believe in God? Sometimes. But once upon a time, it used to be the poor-man's-God phenomenon - believing in God when you needed His help. But now, I just believe in God as another name for Fate - for Reality - for the Way Things Are Supposed To Be. For the patterns which underlie all our lives, and which bind us together - as friends, as enemies, as acquaintences, as citizens, as humans, as nobodies. Or, well, I did. Quite frankly, looking around me now, I don't know what the old guy is playing at.
I don't know. My head seems - well, okay, dazed, but somewhat clearer too.
Insert suitably mysterious phone call here
Did you know that Sehwag's 309 against Pakistan was the highest any Indian has ever made in a single innings, ever? Wow. And I hear he said he would do it before the match. That's grit. Anyways, I've gotta go. Work. I have another two hours before I leave this place.
Am I in love? No. Yes? Maybe. Maybe, maybe.
I can still here her voice ringing in my ears. Maybe it's too late for me already. Maybe, maybe. Maybe.
Good night, you all. You've been a wonderful audience. Thanks for everything.
This post was posted by Unknown at 10:04 pm
