On frustration.

It's past one in the morning, and here i am, blogging like an idiot.
I cant sleep.

But i've got jack shit to do online too.

Basically. I've got nothing to do at all.

I'm so frustrated.

I've got stuff to do, i could read, stone infront of the tv, sleep.... But something is missing! Nothing feels right.

My wrist burns. Stupid injury. Got it last year (no, wait, now thats the year before last), playing futsal for college, goalkeeping. The initial hit wasnt too bad, some chump blasted it at point blank, and i -accidently- got my palm in the way, spraining my wrist pretty badly. Then it just so happened that a girl i was dying to impress was in the crowd, so i told the St John's fellows to just spray the wrist down. And i continued playing with my numb sprained wrist taking numerous blows.

After THAT, i felt pain. Couldnt use it for three months.

And now its back, gnawing at my hand when i move it akwardly. It makes guitar playing nearly impossible, and typing alot harder than it should have been.

All in all, its not helping my current situation.



BAck to that!

I'm terribly frustrated. Just sitting at home, watching my precious time slip away... As Kipling said:
"If you can fill the unforgiving minute,
With sixty seconds worth of distance run,
Yours is the world, and everything in it;
Whats more, you'll be a man, my son."

Sadly, i havent been filling my unforgiving minutes. I've not been intellectually challenged (by anything interesting) for a while now, so my brain is rotting away. There was this little puzzle in this Artemis Fowl book, but it got boring fast. I'm not too good on word plays, i prefer actual information.

Creatively, well, nothing's been going right. Its like i've hit a rock, all my powers of unique invention have been stolen, my creative juices drained away. I've not had any good story inspirations for a while (like i finish any of my stories anyway), my music and lyrics composing has pretty much died (i still only have those five half songs i wrote), and though my ideas are flowing like never before, i just have no way to crystalise them.
Or maybe i'm not quite talented enough.

I dont know which is worse, being intellectually frustrated, or creatively disabled.

I know. Being sexually deprived.

Need i say more? I'm not getting within three feet of a girl, let alone laid. But then, i've never been so close to a girl, and when i think about it carefully, i'd actually prefer an interesting scientific dilemma or an interesting story over a girl.

Good grief, look at whats happenning to me!


I'm out of solutions. I cant find anything intelligent to occupy myself, and its impossible to force the creative process. I'm just gonna have to wait this slump out.

For now, i'll just drown myself in rock music.
Ahhhhh. Nirvana, both kinds.

On Beautiful Thoughts

What a random day today was.

First we went and watched Enchanted. No, thats does not make me gay. And yes, i did like it. SUE me. I thought it was pretty hilarious, come on, when was the last time you saw singing and choreographed dancing in an english movie not classified as a musical? Reminded me of a hindi film. And the acting was excellent (James Marsden is so very underrated), the plot solid, the jokes hilarious, and the dresses really really low. What more could you want?

Then i bought four books. I dont know if its a good thing or bad, i just cant help myself anymore. I'm cleaning out all my savings, i have to cut down on reading.

I'm gonna be broke soon.

Then as i waited at the commuter station for my folks, i started doing that one thing we all shouldnt be doing. No, not evangelizing. Thinking. And i had three thoughts.

1. Death is always a sad thing, aint it? Having close relative pass away can be pretty devastating, especially when you're sitting for important exams (the A levels are going on). I wouldnt know, i've never lost a close relative (touch wood!). And in this time of grief, people can react in two ways: a) They fill the hole with a sudden intimate relationship (a bit of a rebound), or b) They put up a wall around themselves, shutting everyone out.

Sadly, the friend i have in mind is the second type. And i pretty much get it, the person needs space. But how much space? Not a single message in three days is a bit much, isnt it? This from a friend who usually messages atleast once a day. Even with funerals and mourning and stuff, i'm sure there's time to type an sms, ten seconds is all, and send it.
The possible explaination is that in a time of emotional loss and vulnerability, you (I) am the last thing on that persons mind.
Which kinda sucks, makes me somewhat expendable.

On the other hand, am i being too needy? Well, i dont think so. Maybe i just do have a hero complex.


2. I was thinking about parents. They are the root of all problems everyone faces.

Very drastic accusations, eh. But its true. Whether its because they're there too much, or because they're not their at all, somehow, they're responsible if the child is screwed up. Some parents abandon their children, some hover over the poor kids incessantly, the latter results in wild immoral people and the former in wilder rebellious people.

You'll never have a kid, with absolutely NO complaints about their parents. Somewhere or another, there will be a problem. Parents make their kids feel insufficient, abandoned, stifled, guilty, angry, depressed, abused, abusive, rebellious, and a billion other things i cant remember at this moment in time. And each of these negative feelings will blossom into some sort of problem for the child in question, manisfesting themselves either in childhood or after the individual has grown to adulthood.

So, people, you have any problems? Depression, addiction, anger, stress? Think hard, in the end, your parents are at fault. Go tell them. Tell them how their short comings have almost certainly destroyed your happiness, how you dont want them anymore.

And cringe as they laugh at you and tell you to shut up, get back to your studies and stop wasting time reading silly blogs.


3. Now this part is a tragedy. Here i had this beautiful thought. It was witty, well composed, interesting, and very profound. IN fact it was so profound it inspired me to write this blog. But here's the tragedy: I cant remember what it was. For the life of me, i cannot recall it. It has been locked up deep in the crevices of my crowded brain, fleeting like a dream, leaving behind frail wisps of its glory and brilliance for me to cling on too, in vain as even those slip through my mind as drops of water would through my tightened fists. Yet even as i grasp for it harder, it falls away, deeper and deeper into shadow.

And that is my tribute to that thought. Maybe one day it will strike me again, but till then, you'll have to take my word on how brilliant it was.

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I'm afraid i have to end this blog on a sad note. A shortwhile ago, one of my sister's ex classmates, a dental student, was killed, supposedly in a car accident. The unexpectedness caught me off guard, and i didnt even know him very well, just by sight.

It's not fair to have life cut out just like that, without warning, and with so much potential left. But then when is anything ever fair?

Think about him and the countless others who lose everything, in a heartbeat.

On Death and Knowledge

At long last, i am back to my home town. The internet.

Firstly, sorry for the long delay, moving is terribly hectic. And secondly, merry christmas and happy new year to all my readers! Yeah, to all two of you!


Anyways, in this time i've been offline, i've done all sorts of soul searching, and i've got tonnes to write but no clue where to start. I wanted to say something about this epiphany i got while peeing in the Cheras Tesco, but i've to organise it first into something readable.

Anyhooo, i did a bit of exploring in the dark expanse i call my mind, and found a couple of interesting things.

Did anyone happen to read my earlier blog on the Aquarian?
I know none of you did, dont try and bull. Anyway, one of the characteristics of the Aquarian that fits me like a glove is the curiousity. I quote: "Aquarians are always analyzing situations, friends and strangers. It can be disturbing when they start asking pointblank questions, with a bare minimum of tact, as they probe into the heart of your private feelings."

Thats me in two sentences, as any of my friends could attest. So i asked myself the most basic philosophical (and yet most impossible to answer) question:

Why?

The first why was pretty simple. WHat motivates me to ask questions non stop about everything? Knowledge. I like to know stuff, whats going on, who's with whom, what who thinks, when what's happening, so on and so forth. Its a trait of mine, i strongly believe in the phrase knowledge is power.

Why?

Now things got a bit more complicated. Why do i want to know everything? The most obvious reason would be power. When you know everything thats going on, every thought and motive and potential reaction, manipulating situations to your own ends becomes very easy. Of course there's the less subtle blackmailing and bribing. But no, that wasnt the real reason, because i usually keep my information to myself, and have no real reason to manipulate (plus i'm way to lazy to actually do any of that stuff). And yet this knowledge is very important to me.

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At this point i must interject the flow of the blog with a point that popped up in my mind. I've always found death tragic, but why i never knew. I dont miss people ever, and i know one person dying doesnt really affect the world in any way. So while i was pondering over my own thirst for knowledge the answer hit me.

Each and every person, no matter how similar they might seem to others, is unique in one way, their minds. The information present in someone's head, the conclusions drawn from it, the extrpolations made, and connections found between different bits and pieces, all in all the huge web of knowledge formed, is always different. Two people may know the same thing, but they may understand it differently, and connect it to dissimilar things. Also everyone experiences occasions and happenings in their own, completely unique way.

Point is, when some one dies, his mind is lost. No one will ever have an exactly identical line of thought, and all his experiences and thoughts will disappear, never to be known again. That is why dying is such a sad thing. Imagine how much a seventy year old man knows! All of it just disappearing forever seems such a terrible waste it almost makes me cry to think about it.

I'm sure if you've had a close relative pass away (lets call him Bob), you know what i'm talking about. When do you really miss a person? When a situation comes up, and you think, hey, remember Bob? He would have said .... Now what is that but remembering the unique way in which Bob's mind would react to a situation?

One of the most akward times in our lives is when a close friend or relative's death is inevitably close by. What could you possible say to that person? 'Everything will be alright', or 'We'll never forget you' and other such cliched phrases seem somewhat empty in the face of real death. Personally, i think the best solution would be not to talk. Let the person on his deathbed talk. Learn about his life, his dreams, his opinions, his experiences, his hopes, his whole life. That way the person, even after death, will be alive in your mind, his life not lost to obscurity.

And maybe thats what this blog is. A last ditch grab at immortality, a desperate attempt to keeep my thoughts alive.