What I wanted to do before a few months is no more relevant. Exceptions are there with the "wants" in life. Progressive it gets, as I turn back to look at a few things that have been accomplished. I am able to take shelter amidst a list of achievements. I did love the company of people around and that now appears to be an abstention leading to sudden detour of solitude. Waiting was an option, a break was always a retreat from work and a holiday was an event to be planned and relished. But waiting is now an annoying pain in the ass. A break sounds ominous. Holiday has to be tight-fisted vacation, for a neighbouring country side. Events, that once were capable of transition in personal growth appears to be out of the way, only because every thing boils down to dollars and pounds.
Somehow, I have to submit to the extremities of boredom as they battle against conviction. Dreams and aspirations dominated the ill-savoured pessimisms. Now they are hiding somewhere, waiting for me to grab them again. I could be diagnosed with Masochism. But, I don't see pleasure in pain either. As I seek a change to these rough layers of conscience, I have to demand my own personal focus on things, thus tearing the labyrinth of adventurousness. Everything was a moment that gravitated on their own, now they seem to lose their forces of creation. Seeking to break the avalanche, I am now preparing to revisit the context of reality. Definitely, reality creeps the hell out of what I thought to be a sustainable alternative. But, If the prejudices are able to change the scheme of things, then comes the spurring moment, where I can boast about my resilience.
Regardless, this moment is being captured in writing when I am digging the depths of near future that is apparently naked. When I start to realize that I am writing all this because the weather is depressive, I feel I am becoming sensitive to variables that are insignificant. If say for 24 hours, I am expressing things in this landscape of scepticism, I might launch and rebound with exuberance. But why did I come up with this so called philosophical rant about myself ? Only because I need an evidence and a pleasing reminder to know that I am awake and square with truths of time. It is strange. It could only be strange if I am unwilling to penetrate and accept the facts till now.
Strange..Strrrange..Strrrrrrange
