The ability to leap out of a pit full of depression takes courage and hard work. No one likes uncertainty in life. Stability is a dream, high up in the mountains. I am more scared that I do not care about the uncertainty in my life. The thoughts that envelop my mind are short sighted.
Here’s a dumb thought: Maybe the introduction of a companion will help bring purpose in life.
Here’s a better one: A companion can may be a good influence.
The cold is receding. There is joy in the air (so is covid) and a little sense of pride. Pride, that we, as a human race did it. We beat the virus. I’m just glad that it wasn’t as deadly as the black plague. I walked around town today feeling like a champion. A lone champion in an unknown city, just walking around with my hoodie on, looking like a sex offender, inspecting what the city has to offer ( as in food). Let me tell you something, the streets are crowded. It’s pre-pandemic level crowded now. People are going crazy. It’s a Friday night, and you know people have their priorities. Party, pussy, peace of mind, whatever floats their boat. What I came to realize or should I say ‘reminded’ is that I don’t really have any friends. It is at times like this that things become clear. In these moments of loneliness I get back the old me. The me, who wandered around the streets aimlessly because I had nothing do, or I chose to do nothing. But now, I feel it again, and it’s good. It’s good that I feel it again, because those little moments of loneliness are a reminder of how messed up I felt not too long ago. Also, there’s nothing a little KFC can’t fix. I just realized it’s a Saturday, so have a happy weekend.
Edit: I know the pandemic is far from over. Just go with it, let me have my moment.
When was the last time you actually tried to move your toes? Do you ever feel like parts of your body are slowly going out of business? Like, with every generation, a small piece of your body refuses to join in with the family. What does that feel like? That’s why it’s important to work out. Hell I’m working out while writing this. I’m doing situps with a phone in my hand. It’s up to you to decide how pathetic or heroic that sounds. That’s how I roll. I don’t let moments go to waste.
But you know, with every door that closes, a new one gets cut open with a “here’s Johnny!”. So, if a part of your body shuts down, a new one awakens. Like, if your spine stops bending backwards, a new skill might show up, like, long division or something.
I do not have the freedom to make juice in my own house (technically mom’s house). What’s next? A curfew? I know whoever is reading this is going to assume what a piece of shit I am, but I ask you this. What is life without juice, my old friend? What sense does it make to drink tasteless water all day everyday? Life is a fountain of flavors (note that down), and my job as a temporary resident is to swim through the ocean of opportunity, and avoid getting eaten by sharks.
Note to self:
Never use the names Vincent van Gogh and Deadpool in the same sentence, unless the purpose is to evoke feelings of extreme disgust and anger.
To the people who walk through the coaches in a metro, “why?”. What’s so urgent that you have to push people away, and make a divide? What’s waiting for you on the other side? Is it a light at the end of the tunnel? Or is it a loved one who does not exist? Is it the scent of deep fried burgers? Or are you just wandering aimlessly? I know not what your purpose is, lonely traveller, but if I happen to catch you walking by, listening to the radio, I hereby make it known, I will trip you.
As a kid, were you scared to go to the dentist? I was. Everything about it was scary. Let’s begin with the gigantic spaceship-light that hovers through the whole procedure. Who designed that? Why do you have to sacrifice your eyes to get your teeth fixed? That shit is overloading the eyes. Next, there’s the doctor, in search of cavities. Dude’s on a lunar mission. He’s all suited up, ready to dig into your exposed nerve endings. For some reason, he thinks that his frightening smile will calm you down. Suddenly, he starts talking to you about your school, choice of clothing, and favourite food (all really personal shit, by the way), like he’s a member of the family now. What we don’t realise is that the sneaky bastard is gathering vital information that he will later use to break you down. Then, there’s the nurse. She wipes your face and sticks a tube in your mouth. The tube sucks out all the water and saliva. She’s like the good guy, but then, you notice that she doesn’t stop STARING. Now, I really don’t mind some female attention. However, the death-stare would go on for the full procedure. I know, it’s her job, but anyone who stares at me for longer than a minute straight, is a threat. Plus, she’s having a virtual reality dream inside my mouth. So, I signal her to reposition the tube, because the sucker has stopped sucking, and my mouth is overflowing.
Then the procedure, aka, mouth-rape, begins. The commencement of the mouth-raping is signalled by the sound of what appears to be a chainsaw, but really is just a little spinning Beyblade. As the construction workers enter your mouth hole, you make a promise to yourself. “I will do whatever it takes to never be in this situation again”, but that rarely happens. Oh! I almost forgot to mention the TV that’s supposed to calm you down, but instead bores you to such an extent that you lose all sensation.
As an adult, I am still scared to go to the dentist. I sill have my childhood fears. On top of that, I don’t want to sell my house to pay the doctor. I prefer to keep the house. I like my house. Jokes aside, dentists are cool. They are doing really good work. It’s not fun to fix people’s disgusting mouths. Plus, they help me smile with confidence(even though I’m crying inside).
I read an article in the paper today. It was about BIG DATA. I don’t know why I typed that in all caps. Maybe its’s to incite FEAR. Is it working? RELATIONSHIP, COMMITMENT, RENT, UNEMPLOYMENT!
Scary words. Anyway, the article had all the fancy quotes. “Data is the new oil”, “You are the product”, “Google needs to pay”. So here’s the deal. We know all these companies are profiting off of everyone who browses the internet. They study people’s online activity and make calculated assumptions. Assumptions, that other companies are willing to pay big money for. It helps them sell their products better. For example, if you search for a kitchen knife online, google tells its friend, amazon, that someone’s in the mood for some cooking. Amazon quickly sends you a mail about all that sexy kitchenware it has to offer. That’s right. All those condom ads on YouTube, appear for a reason.
It’s not just marketing. Companies study behavioural patterns. Entertainment companies want to know which parts of a movie excites you the most, so that they can make better movies. So, all this is fine. We already know that this is happening. What intrigues me is that the author went on to say that these companies need to start paying people for the data they collect. So that means, Google has to pay me for allowing it to study my interest in 90s cartoons.
I don’t know how I feel about that. It’s like getting paid for giving up privacy.
For no reason, here’s some music.
Poverty, depression and rain. What do they all have in common? That’s right. Nothing. So there’s no use trying to get all philosophical. A better idea would be to start to fix things using the power of reason. Having said that, I love to look out my poverty-stricken window when it rains. It calms me. I feel happy when it rains. It’s like meditation without the bullshit. All the other noise is masked by the sound of rain drops. Somehow, the sound of farts still make it through to the ears, loud and clear.
Stranger in Moscow is a great song.
I used to think that life on Earth evolved over millions of years to be the best that they can be, upgrading themselves over generations. But if you’ve read any books on evolution, biology, you would know that that’s just not true. Even nature is imperfect. If you are familiar with Richard Dawkins works, you would know that we have evidence of design flaws in our own body! These facts contradict the involvement of an “intelligent designer” or some sort of a “supreme being” in the creation of all life on Earth. But we still “believe” because “mom and dad said so”.
Maybe books can make a difference in people. Maybe the nerds were right after all. But if you’re like me and hate books, and believe that they are the work of the devil, then I highly recommend you stay away from politics because if you get elected, people’s lives will be at stake.