Return of the moron...

I realised that I've been letting my life slip by, but is the effort to get up and hold onto a wake of sanity, really worth it?

For the past hour I have just been switching channels, but have yet found nothing to hold my interest. Even the novel I began last week is lying ignored on the corner of my table. Something has stopped here and I got to get it moving.

I get up and fix myself a coffee.It's time for some serious introspection.

For quite sometime, the mechanical activities of my life have left no space for thought. I realise I can't justify or account for even the smallest of my actions in the past two years, because I have just not been aware of them, or even of myself. And it hurts to know that you have been away for so long, when meanwhile you seem to have lost a lot that matters.

The coffee is steaming hot; gives me a strange sense of homecoming to feel the cup in my hand.

I try to recall the last time I had felt the same; must be around three years ago, when I was standing on the threshold of life. The failures that I had just faced and the serious thought that was required immediately to fight with those, compelled me to sit down and focus. The commitments of those thoughts gave me a pedestal to stand on, but somewhere stealthily, the focus got lost.

But today is different, coz'I am sitting and speculating, not to cater to my materialistic desires, but to fill up the gaps in my personal life-the panorama of those distorted affiliations, the inconsistency of commitments, and the helplessness of an abyssmal privation of understanding. I guess the only virtue I have stressfully tried to evade, is "You just don't understand", and that's a virtue that has consistently beat me, inevitably everywhere,and in everyone.

And I wonder why is it so important for me that someone understands? What makes me seek completion in someone else? Are my thoughts so incoherent that I need someone to mirror them before I really feel reassured with them? I realise that it's not true.I still believe in my thoughts even when no one's there to assure me of their validity. So I can quit behaving like a moron or some character from Orwell's 1984, quit circling in a farce of mechanical pretenses to suit the needs of my environs. I don't want nor need the assurance of public opinion behind me.

The mug is empty, but my mind is filled with endless thoughts.

The next day I venture out with the confidence of a lion, and do not care to throw smiles at those people whose disposition I find contemptious. I resort to melancholy coz' I can't find many of those whom I respect.

Two days and the depression of loneliness becomes too much to bear, and on the third day, I find myself again blissfully indulging in mindless channel surfing. The next day I walk upto that female who has always personified What I have always hated in life, send a sweet smile her way, and take an avid interest in her whatabouts. Diplomacy is what you need to get ahead in life, right?