Old.

July 6,2008

There’s so much that goes on in our heads that we think is unique to ourselves. Yet, lot of things eventually come together, and let us know how common such thoughts actually are. The thoughts that run through your mind when you’re reading a line, when you’re listening to a song, when you’re watching the sea, or the sky, or an aeroplane, or a bus, or a labourer, or a field are always shared by almost all people who’re doing, or have done what you are doing. Unsettling.

Each individual probably has an inbuilt way of analyzing certain things, possibly some among the things I’ve mentioned above too. We’re all so frightfully same, though we’ve all maybe grown differently. It’s so horrible, or maybe not, I don’t even know what to think. Either I’m right, or I’m unbearably boring.

I don’t know why it feels so weird at times, and you end up writing not so much what you actually want to, as something that hasn’t even bothered you much. So strange to not know yourself what you’re going to type next. How you see word after word appearing on your screen, and yet there’s not even a trace of what you wanted to say in whatever you’ve written. Or maybe, there’s nothing to say, after all. Sometimes you feel something is terribly wrong, as if there’s something that’s always been missing. But you can never quite point out what it is. Again, maybe it’s nothing. I don’t know. But right now, I feel rotten. So confused.

“No matter what our struggles and triumphs, and however we might bear them; all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper”

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