I haven’t updated my livejournal in what seems like ages since there is
nothing I would rather write in there. I click the “update journal…” link
and then after 5 minutes of staring blankly at the screen, nothing comes
out, and so I close the window.
Many a time, I get the feeling that the life I have been living so far has
been fake, based on things that are really not as precious as I once thought
they were, and so the rest of my life is going to be inconsequential – a
life lived out to its end which is not an “end” in itself, just the
place in the road where I decide to walk no more. I like sitting on the
fence and looking at other peoples’ crops grow green, and I like to know
what people think, then think about it and then think about how
incosequential it is, anyways. Actions should lead to consequences, and
they do, but the consequences are often inconsequential and so the
actions seem to have been pretty much in vain.
For one, I miss the active, adolescent, rebelling, imaginative teen mind
that I remember having. I am sure that if I try lying in a field under the
stars today, with a good friend by my side, as I once have, I wont get
the wonderful feeling of being lost in amazingly beautiful thoughts or
hallucinations, call them what you may.
I wonder what its like to be working in a corporation, does that feel
worse than this? That must be true death, thinking someone else thoughts
for them, and writing them programs to sell. I am sure that is a very
wicked and cruelly twisted way of seeing it, but my mind doesn’t see
I dont want to read anymore books with interesting insights or watch
anymore action-thriller movies. I would love to see “Onegin” again. Or
perhaps not. I have a good memory associated with that movie I would
like to preserve.
Its raining in Orlando, and the day is so beautifully cloaked in a
filter of gray. there is water in everything I see, and on everything I
see, outside. I like walking , or biking home in the rain, walking being
the more preferred of the two. Rain reminds me of days I used to spend
inside the house when I was in school , looking out the window drawing
mental pictures of how different places would look like when it rains.
Rain makes me happy within, and yet sad, rainy days are strange, I love
them. At least, on rainy days I feel differently from how I do on usual
I am late for my meeting. it was supposed to start at five thirty, and
its five thirty five already…
The mail was longer, but I dislike posting personal mails on the journal.
Whats above though is what I can tell the world at large, and my future