"Ah, mon cher, we are odd, wretched creatures, and if we merely look back over our lives, there's no lack of occasions to amaze and horrify ourselves."

- Albert Camus as Jean-Baptiste Clamence, 'The Fall'

Saturday, May 29, 2010

dry blood beast

So it's been a while since my last blog post. I had another blog before this one. It was alright, not too bad, nothing great either. But I wrote a lot more there than I do here. and while I mostly post poems and the like here, I used to open up back there. Be frank. It's not hard for me to be open these days, but I'm not used to it, so writing something like this, though spontaneous, isn't easy.

I think it is time to take stock of my life over the last few months.
I think I've been slowing down a lot in the recent past. Getting sluggish. Getting complacent.
I have found that there is a difference between complacence and satisfaction. The difference is this - Satisfaction feels good and continues to feel good even after a while.
Complacence starts out with making you feel good, but its like a radioactive element with a short half-life. begins to decay and when it unravels - pardon the complete messing-up of scientific phraseology - suffice to say it doesn't give you a reason to smile.

I have been complacent. and I need to remedy that. but how? Maybe by finding things to do. I'm helping an old friend out with her grad. film and that's given me a day of something to do. I read books. so far so good.
Some content-writing here and there. a few hundred rupees are made thus. I don't have many friends, but considering my attitude towards friendship, that is not surprising. I don't make many efforts to maintain friendly relations with people around me - I do want people to keep in touch with me, but am not willing to do so myself.


what's one to do? we are who we are, eh? It's not that I don't try. It's just that my 'best' is too less for most people. so I don't bother too much anymore. call it Sour Grapes Syndrome if you like. Individuality!
My liege.

Even as I type this, I tire of it. Last night as I was returning from that old friend I mentioned's place, I stood by the roadside and watched the twinkling lights of the high-rise buildings about half a kilometer away from me. There was a full moon. Together, they seemed like a cold mother. This city brings out the worst in me, and that, my friends, if channelized right, might just bring out the best.

We have assembled inside this ancient & insane theatre
To propagate our lust for life & flee the swarming wisdom of the streets
The barns are stormed
The windows kept & only one of all the rest
To dance & save us
W/ the divine mockery of words

James Morrison

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