Friday, October 19

13:50 :: Theoretics

I sometimes get this feeling that everything I do is going toward a greater plan, a masterplan, designed by me — without me knowing about it. A bit Fight Club-ish, I realize, but it's an interesting thought nonetheless. It's as if someone took the idea of politics and inserted directly into my blood, into my brain and the neurons that flow in and out. And now, I'm just a machine, computing theoretical moves, one after another.

And I don't even know about it.

Thursday, October 18

00:55 :: Please

I want this. I want that. Ambitions, expectations, hope, earnings, futures and options: Eh? Too much going on, left and right. It's hard to decipher exactly which path to take. It may be that shit's all covered in soot (and shit still is), but that's no excuse for not being able to remove that soot. Soot is soot, my life shouldn't be. I want something, something nice.

Right now, I'll take some mint-flavored bubble tea. That'd be nice; that's be cool. Yah.

Monday, October 15

04:25 :: Missing

This morning I woke up to a sudden phone call: "You're late, Rahat!" I was told this nicely. Scurrying about, trying to get on my feet, I got ready and headed out toward the subway. On the way, I realized that in the last ten hours, I had lost a part of myself.

Now, I'm sure it'll sound quite silly. But believe me, it isn't: Not when you're in my position. She gave me that Red Pocket four years ago. And she said, "Don't ever use that dollar!" And I never did. But somehow, someway, that dollar was missing this morning. The Red Pocket, naked, lay in my wallet.

I'm not sure why, but it makes me feel a bit more vulnerable, a bit more lonely, a bit more sad. At the same time, I know I have to move on. Gripping onto the past is very futile. Learn your lesson, and move on.

Right? Maybe — Just maybe.