Wednesday April 27

Realised that I am yet to post a post. Overdue I understand. Will do it soon. Caught up in day to day things.
Off I go then, leaving this random out-of-context post here.
Yeah.

Writings on the Wall 2

Writings on the Wall

Now its down to business. After that intro, things change. You and I are no longer the strangers that we were before you read my first post.
In we go, you and I, to explore, rather, observe the results of, the inner workings of my mind.

The following was written by me at around 2:30AM one night after I returned home, drunk. Suddenly I had an epiphany; an overwhelming rush of emotions describing my state at the time. School, other things, school etc. I sat down and expressed myself the following way. Disclaimer: This was written, as I said, when I was in a highly inebriated state. So, syntax and grammar seemed petty issues, almost inconsiderate to their justification I was.

BEGIN

Chapter 1 – ‘Human option’ leads to hard shoulders
The way to overcome adversity; when you feel there is too much shit to do:
The way I think about it – it’s a test, a challenge to see if you can rise to the occasion. Its never impossible. The more weight that is placed on your shoulders, the stronger you become ‘cos you are still alive; you are talking about all that weight right nowyou have managed to find a way to bear it all. So you are stronger than before. This process repeats – the more weight you get to bear, the stronger you get and rise to lift the weight up. The hope is by the time you being to loose the urge to be resilient, you will be out of *School*.
Maybe this isn’t just a *School* thing, maybe throughout life you need to be the guy with shoulders as hard as rocks; all of it resulting from lifting enormous weights: excellence in academia, zenith of physical form, alpha-male at parties..these inevitably lead to what I call ‘hard shoulders’. The more powerful a man becomes (due to his own hardwork), the stronger he gets. He almost becomes a machine. A loss-cutting, sharp witted, street smart, hard shouldered, slightly heartless individual; heartless ‘cos loss-cutting results in it. After some time in life, the man will have to cut losses no more.(IDEAL) He will see it coming, and stop playing beforehand. I see it coming, but I refuse to play; stupidity? Not at all. It’s a tradeoff between being human and being ideal. The former resulting in the pure joy of anticipation and possible ecstacy / melancholy while the latter leading to a mediocre and bland, yet mentally sound existence. Most people ‘choose’ to be human without realizing that there is a choice. Others realize it and still choose to be human. Foolishness? Maybe. Maybe they have a hunch and even a glimpse of definite ecstasy. But then again, foolishness usually wins as the reason. The ‘human choice’ is still preferred and even appreciated. Why is this self-detrimental nature encouraged across humanity? Valor / courage and carefree attitudes are seen in such bold (foolish) heart-hurting decisions. For those who don’t see the choice, fine – stupid man’s party and all are invited. For those who do, the allure is too strong perhaps; knowingly making the choice is worse. Pain is equal in both cases though. So might as well take the ‘human option’ to justify the vernacular and my definition of it.

Conclusion: human option wins? Danger of not ‘living your life’ exists in the other choice. Latter can be excised at times. At times, yes.
ENDE

Well then. Thats for today.

Looking down at the clouds with contempt 

Act 1 Scene 1

Enter Writer, Me.
Scene: Uncle's House
Type: Soliloquy
Hour: The Witching Hour.
Begin

Hey there,
Welcome to my corner on the Web. I often wonder what took me so long to create it. Like many others, I thought this was just another passing fad; an ephemeral spike in fascination for virtual social interaction. This whole business of the blog. So I paid no attention to it. Magazine advertisements and Special Focus TV shows continued their focalisation on this phenomenon. But magazine pages flew in front of me and then right past me, like what happens to a cartoon character recollecting something in the past; TV shows on this topic got 10 seconds of my attention at best, that too when I was in a particulary forgiving mood.

Finally, I succumbed. I did. Due to quite an eclectic mix of reasons, I have decided to start my own blog. Now I am dumbfounded everytime I think about it. It was so obvious that this would be a great outlet for, well, pensieri in mia testa.

Ok then, off we go. I should give you a little of my background. After experiencing Asia and Europe in a variety of roles and circumstances, not to mention dire contrasts of weather whose observation would drive even Francis Wilson crazy, (brushes of European influence you see) I have landed in the United States of America. I now live in the pretty 'little' (by no means in the literal sense!) state of California. I finished college with a rather heavy degree in, well, how things work, from a university where squirrels are abundant, beautiful people are everywhere, and European car makers come to extend personal notes of thanks to students and teachers alike.
I will soon be working in the city of 45 degree inclines. Such contrast from squirrel country; if you know, you know what I am talking about.

On to the blogging then. I like to think. I like to think about things. I like to think about many things at once. I like to think about many things about each of the many things. You can already see the fun I have. It struck me one day; why not let others see what you think about?
Thus, at 12:45 AM, in my uncle's house, by the pool and the hot tub and the sleep-barking bichon frise was born this blog.
Now then, I have quite a lot that I want to share with you, the reader. Not knowing who you are will make it even more interesting. Otherwise there is no way I will show this stuff to that annoying bastard friend of mine, ??? ! Anyway, attempts at being funny apart, I end this intro here.
Tune in later for what succeeds this prologue. The box will slowly be opened and its contents revealed.