And what am I mad at? Me, of course!
Here I am (I've heard all this before, it's all coming back to me ... am I just regurgitating another's pain, or something altogether more malicious: hiding my own pain behind someone's else's complaints? Ah well.), wasting it all away. What? Well, look at me. I'm sitting here blogging from my Lab. You know, the place I should be working? Yup. And I have a tutorial tomorrow, and I ain't done nothing so far. And I dun think I will, until tomorrow morning, maybe later. I'm just wasting it all, and you know where that goes, uh-huh. Nowhere. Nada. A zero with a tiny hole in the centre, just big enough to suck your entire future into with no hope of escape, no means of progress, no way out. Just a tiny, tiny hole into which you fit (trust me; I'd give it all up just to fit into that hole. A hole. Any hole. Just to fit in somewhere, to live a moment without shaking it up into a thousand pieces, that would be heaven). And that's it. Lights out, game over. It's all over.
It's times like this (here I go, vomit-vomit-vomit, all over again!) that I understand where suicide might come from. It's not about the depression, really, is it? (It might well be, I suppose, but not for me. Me, I'm so neurotic, I'll make myself believe that things aren't as bad as they seem, rather than get overly depressive about it!) For me, it'd be about the sheer pointlessness of it all. Give me a reason to live, and watch me fly so high, so high, you wouldn't believe. But make me find my own reason, and all you'll get is a bag of bones and blood, forcing-pushing-creeping, one day at a time, towards its own inevitable end. It's sad, but it's true.
I don't know why it's so, but it is: somehow, the one thing that really gets me up and awake and ready is love. Well, I'd say crush, but I promise to come back and edit this once I figure out the difference. It's true. The only program I've written since 1995 that I'm halfway proud of, I wrote cos I had a crush on a girl at the time. And unfortunately, the crush didn't go on long enough to get into the testing bit, so the code has several major bugs. Not working, for one :P. But that's the truth, really.
You know what I hate most about "Glass Palace"? Too many characters who end their sentences with ellipses. "No, but ..." "She's not ..." "I won't say no, but ..." Not really quotes, but that's how they sound. Why are people in the book perpetually being unable to stop themselves from completely a coherent sentences? Did everybody in the mid-20th-century suffer this problem, or what?
Hey, don't want to leave you with totally negative stuff. A brilliant interview with one of the Chernobyl engineers. Not everything in the world is entirely depressing, ever.
Good night,
Gaurav Vaidya
This post was posted by Unknown at 1:21 am
