predicament..
Both these blogs are two dead things that refuse to stay buried. It’s become increasingly difficult to update both of 'em esp when there is so little to write these days(and barely anyone, who reads). However, every time I visit my own blog (to reply comments et al) I hate to see the same old post. My words have lost that spunk and fire (they never had) and that broad streak of recurring orneriness (bah!) which goes with the nimble drama, getting played 25/7 [sic] inside my head. I wish someone could hear the protracted rumble of this earthquake and loyally map the territory where the major tremors occur.
I feel deluged by the blunt force of existence, the majesty and briefness of life and emotions. I dream of sophisticated disasters- all sorts of mean chemical fires and special catastrophes. I speculate also on my peculiar malady, is it part of what’s happening to our generation? and the whole crazy world? Is it dark forces breaking loose.. ? Such involved speculations annoy me. I’m a simple case, I assure myself, a regular person, somewhat marred but on balance. I had some rough moments but I shook them off. I do my duty, I think cricket and sambhar-vadas, take pride in being alone and single.
In other words, I don’t have much in life to feel superior about and I don’t mind admitting it. I can string words and the computer spells it. I can’t write pious scripture ridden homilies but when I am nasty I can turn it on. Reflection and distance granted me perspectives and wisdom, after every small-long break I returned more assured than ever that this blog and I were perfect for each other but frankly my recent restlessness outside this wretched cauldron has introduced me varied vocations. I have nothing new to crow about. I’ve combed through all that array of junk that I’d called ‘my experience’, ranging from low down, high-octane farce to dark erotic and neurotic language but there seems no truer version of that same old ancient tale. Having a blog you updated painstakingly for over four years being stuck is one thing, but having to kill it is another- that is an excruciating thing for a blogger to go through.
And then there are practical consequences, how to do it cleanly and painlessly, for instance, where to dispose these crazy thoughts? what to do when the urge to spew words had erupted and spread like a bodily contagion. I don’t exactly know what I want, perhaps a man, bookish but not some wimp, a guy who at least plays kabbadi, and somebody with some kind of honesty not some pretender or run-of-the mill suck up. Notwithstanding, is it possible to talk about life anywhere, the way I do here, weaving omissions and lies in a pleasant inebriation? I read somewhere, regret is an unnecessary emotion.. I don't want to regret. In short, I need a life. etc. etc.. there are so many things to take into consideration. …
Fine.. its time to step from this bourbon haze and plunge into a deep sleep, dreaming about the empty spaces between stars…
