a quick blog on how to be sad..saD..sAD..SAD

self doubt, screwed up as it is, is a bastard who bites where and when it hurts most. with a one dimensional thought pattern these days, it is difficult to focus on anything, and as it becomes more difficult to justify faith, bitter thoughts of a return to the past haunts, like a difficult ghost. with this last loss, i give up on any demands whatsoever. when people say 'u will get something', i wonder what do they know that they say it. what do they know of the panic i feel. negativity is infinite and freely flows to fill big holes of doubt and fear.
God! how hard is it to even think of anything apart from this process, to work up an appetite for fun, an appetite to do something creative. how hard is it to express love or happines, to forget this stress for a moment.

will there be a day when i look at this post and laugh at it, or will stare at it infinitely hoping for something better. 

i feel like revolting, the gut instict to turn back and fight when cornered, but who do i fight, who do i aggress. for there isnt an enemy. i go to the gym, and sweat with the weights, that i guess is the only way to push. this isnt a fight to death, but a slow burning fuse. i am bitter, angry and always on the verge. with the lowest patience for irritation. This isnt healthy. i cant make myself say this isnt called for. wish i knew. wish i could say i hope this isnt called for. 

neee

there s nothing as pompous as writing about events that just happened in a blog. i am tempted to write on neev and all that excited me during it, yet it feels like a load of self important shit to do, now that i sit downt to do it.Neev belonged to all those who won stuff in it, for me who did not, it aint that imprtant. i rue that wine bottle i just missed, the couple of t's i just missed and all those 40k prize monies i din come close to winning. and neev wasnt even important, bloody hell getting placed somewhere semi respectable is much more important.anyways. if i remember anything from neev is thinking i could have missed it this year too.  kk's concert, agustus final, anoop's interview are among the few things i will remember. 

anyways now that neev is over and stark reality of placements, ofn recession, of placements, of low single digit salaries come to wash me over, what was neev. In the best of times, i am depressed, tired and bored. what now. worrying isnt going to get me anywhere, yet i guess not worrying is worse still - the time to panic having arrived already. Of times if i regreted not having done an engineering, of having wasted good years in Dubai, it is now that i feel the pain most. as shortlist after shortlist finds me on the wrong end of shorting, the feeling of inferiority just eats like acid. 

I have lesser energy than before,and every negative headline in the newspaper is a personal affront. 

Without remorse

It is easy to lie to myself. blindly and repeatedly till i believe the lie, till lines of distinction between the two are no longer discernable. till that last little prick of conscience fades from recognition
i never realized that the hardest thing was to be completely honest with mysellf. and to have the capacity to see what things really are.
once this part is done i see it is fairly easy to be honest with everybody else, easier to lie too. but then again the lines will fade if i am not careful.
this forces me to realize small lies i see in others, in others i like. lies i am willing to accept, to forgive, because those faded lines i see there are so familiar. yet, do i call them out. do i not. what when another lie comes my way.
i hope those lies is only to me. and not to their own heart.

what do i do with those lies that are important to others. lies that are deep, lies that may have been truths once. do i call them out. do i not. is it worse now that i realise they were lies anyway. simple lies that will need more lies to make them stay.

i want to be a painter

i want to be a painter 

to be able to remember the beauty i see in everyhtin

and capture it

and then hang it on wall for everyone to see

hmm. ha

i am excited when a new work presents itself, but i am too lazy to do it. it could be anything, like reading fiction. i enjoy it, but the effort of taking and reading it is... hm.. too much? but then some reason presents itself to instigate me to turn pages fast, like some one who asks how the book is and i am embarrassed by the fact i am yet to reach anywhere. i am then happy to have this simple pressure to read, of looking forward to telling them i am done. my motivation therefore is entirely dependent on others giving me the right nudges here and there. 

an idea from Mohsin Hamids Moth Smoke.

a disease is what grows where/when it shoudlnt. it gets bad when you can stop it and yet you do nothing about it, letting the lethargy it lends cover you in excuse, a cushion to the fall.

, like a moth drawn to a flame, circling its love the flame, till the flame consumes it. one flight too close to the flame, and ends up dead.

like two lovers, each a moth drawn to the other, love that was never to be, love doomed from the start, just to burn a wing here a wing there. the lover the flame the doom. 

Things i sometimes remember and laugh about

1. once i and old buddies from school had gone for dinner. on the way back we were driving back by the then newly opened Shoppers Stop in Harrington road, chennai. sitting in the back seat of the car, for no reason, i yelped 'hai, shoppee Day'. it was completely reflexive. to this day i hve no idea why i said it or why we all still are reduced to pulp laughing abt it.
2. one time i was kissing a girl, and i got bored kissing her. ten seconds can be a long time, and eh.. my mind wanders fast.
i remember thinking what i could do to pass the next minute or so..trying different angles..and then starting to laugh hysterically
3. the time a friend farted in the car, again there were 3 of us, hot day and the AC was on. it was the WORST possible fart a human could have produced. it s a wonder the driver dint crash the car.
4. i had a scooterrete for sometime, it was a piece of junk that could hardly move with two people on. yet, i once convinced a friend it was a test of his manhood to prove that he could race against this with his HeroHondo CBZ. hehehe.. we got an audience, we got someone to blow the whistle and i didnt even move. all we remember was rolling around and laughing as he literally flew with throttle on full.. he never really forgave me for that

5. there was this time when i was in this room with some1 i wasnt supposed to be. and then some1 knocks. i had the most hilarious time with that person under my bed.