Another week of

Nothingness.

How is it even possible for there to be this much nothingness? It's like some galactic conspiracy to remove all thoughts and images from my mind - wipe the slate clean. And then let it fester in the nothingness left behind. That and the dull hum of incoherent voices.

Oh, I guess it's not really as manic-depressive as it sounds, but it sure does feel that way sometimes.

Everything about our life is asymmetrical. That makes it rather difficult for me because I need symmetry. Not in any specific geometrical fashion, but in a larger cosmic sense. There are things that happen for no reason and you can't really control them so you shouldn't worry about them, then there are things that happen for a reason and if you don't know it then you shouldn't worry about it because you should trust in the workings of the universe. Huh? There's the you-are-what-you-think philosophy, but when I really start getting into what I think (and hey, what I think, at least for now, is my own), the refrain changes to don't-become-what-you-think-too-much. Just become what everyone else thinks. There are the rules that should be followed, but oh, just for you, there are the rules that shouldn't be followed. There's everyone talking about different things that don't even belong in the same conversation. Where there should be peace, there is chaos. Where a little anarchy might help, there are tight-fisted formulae.

Like Indian roads. Why does everyone willy-nilly just move around? Cars and people getting in your face from all directions, sneaking in through the space between your torso and your arm, passing before your and behind you, from your left and your right, with barely a breath's space in between. Everyone on Indian roads is making every effort to maximize contact with everyone else on them. In whatever way possible. Car bumps, elbow bumps, grubby hands on bonnets, shoulder brushes... they might as well start licking one another all over right there.

Symmetrical in chaos. That's how the world should be - not the other way around. We've made the frameworks for everything and insist that everyone stay within them, but within them, we create ugly disorder. Make the frameworks disappear - the elements of chaos will fall into their places. In symmetry. Because things ought to fall in place, you know. Not be scattered everywhere, being of no use to anyone at all, making no sense. The funny part is that no one seems to mind. They like it scattered senseless. Less sense = More sense. Nonsense = Sense. Wow, I really may be further gone than I think.

I guess I'm just tired of being told that acceptance of all things exactly the way they are, is the only way to be happy. I hate to dwell on that oft-repeated apothegm because I know how ridiculous it is for me to even contemplate trying to be that way. Then of course I hear that I'm just being stubborn and refusing to change - that I am capable of lying myself into anything. Oh sorry, accepting anything, I think they mean. Of course I know I'm capable of lying to myself and saying that something is okay when it isn't. I've done it enough times to know that I'm good at it. So good that I've probably sketched several versions of reality around myself - some versions are merely touched-up, some are completely make-believe.

The irony is in that we're always trying to resolve the many conflicts in our selves and our lives, and the truth is that a conflict-less life is a terribly staid one. There are no immediate goals, and complacency sets in. Soon, it begins to feel like life has somehow shortchanged us. I would think that the only way to deal with situations like these is to create churn, invite turbulence. I used to do it by picking fights with people so I'd apply myself to resolving the underlying issues, and by intellectualizing the various aspects of life - pitting reality against reason and is a sure way to inspire mental debate. These days, my chosen methods seem to be more on lines of contemplating creative temporary escape routes.

So, in order to put my life somewhat back in order, I registered at 'The Landmark Forum'. Pretty hilarious, the things I can be driven to do in times of panic. I'm curious to see how I handle it.

It was interesting to read some of me earlier posts and see some things - that I still fume but my writing doesn't, still feel pretty inept at navigating life most of the time but have become far better at bluffing my way through it, still selfish but not so much as to quote my own so-called principles to myself every now and again to make it all sound worthwhile. 'If only I had one dream. If only I lived in the world of the mind.' is how I ended one unhappy post. Four years on, and I wouldn't change a word.

How quickly the years pass! Things that I remember thinking about and writing about like it was yesterday - they happened years ago. It feels unfair. Where did the meandering rivulets of fears, excitement, insecurities and passion meander off to? Why have they dried up? Why do I now write the way I talk? When did the collective become so strong that the individual all but faded away?