Posts
College-
Time to rant.
I hated the first day of college! God, it turns out that there is something worse than first year. The classes've been divided again- in the ratio of 56:56:26. I'm sorry, am I missing something? Any particular reason as to why the third class has only 26 people? This makes no sense. Why they couldn't just leave it at 70:65 or whatever. They just HAVE to meddle.
I thought ok. I'm atleast in the class with all the people I had last semester, things should be normal. Nooo. Everyone acts all weird and awkward. Come on! It was just 2 months not a lifetime and a half! The worst part? The silence. Like we're mourning the death of the little fun we used to have in class.
Nobody talks. Nobody even breathes loudly. If you sneeze its like a mini atom bomb going off which reverberates across the room for ten minutes. Teachers seem to be screaming, and the loudest background noise is the frying of puris in the canteen two blocks away.
The teachers. Are they on drugs of some kind? Why are they so hyperactive? Its a second year classroom not a bloody Broadway musical. They don't have to leap across the room like people possessed. Or they're so depressed about their meaningless existences that they dont even bother to modulate their voices. The words just fall out like drool from a sleeping person's mouth.
The block. Its new. We occupy the third floor. Noone else in the whole building so far as I know. Why have we been quarantined here? Are they afraid that deadness is contagious? And why is the loo so far away? Is it to be used as a bomb-shelter in case we're attacked by mutant male ninjas? Questions to which the answers will never be revealed. Oh MSRIT shrouded in mystery.
The subjects. I've learnt that you can NEVER DRAW A STRAIGHT LINE!! They have lied to you all your life!!! ITS ALL A LIE!!! Nooo!! Lol. Ok not much else.
Sigh. Don't send me back there. Please! I'll be your slave for life, I don't mind.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
Hollow years. Random thoughts+Music
Somedays are good, somedays are bad, somedays you just want to sleep through, and in the morning pretend they never were.
"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they're here to stay.
Oh I believe in yesterday."
I wish that so many of my days weren't wasted in nothingness, sadness and a failure to live life to the fullest. The worst is knowing that these seconds of life are slipping away and still falling into the lethargy of not doing anything.
"I fear I've wasted all my sun, I fear I've wasted all my time. Everything is faded. Smiles are fabricated now. Held my eyes closed for too long. "
Remove one person from a multitude, you still have the multitude. But sometimes the multitude seems to be nothing without that person. Feeling alone isn't rational it doesn't make sense, it isn't the same as being alone.
“I know someday you'll have a beautiful life. I know you'll be a sun in somebody else's sky. But why can't it be mine?”
I wish I could forget things the way I can remember them. Why is it so hard to forget, why does your mind lock itself up in a prison of thoughts and sit there, crying at its own fate? I can't let go, I can't want to, though I want to want to let go. What do I do?
"She loves me not, she loves me still, but she'll never love again." **
So I sit, alone, regretful, and worried about nothing in particular. Just wanting to do something worthwhile, something beautiful and lovely that gives me purpose. I don't want to just drift away not having done anything. I can't go one, not making an impact on anything.
There once was a child who said
I want to change the world.
He went to school, and he learnt.
He learnt that the world is very big.
So he said, I want to change my country.
He grew, and he travelled.
He learnt that his country was big.
His country had a lot of problems.
So he said, I want to change my city.
He got a job, and he began to work.
He worked and worked and he made a lot of money.
He learnt that his city was big.
It was a city and he was just a man.
So he said I'll change my family.
He got married, had children.
He found out that his wife was a spendthrift.
His children were spoilt brats.
His in-laws used him for his money.
One day, he had a heartattack.
He lay in his bed, dying
He thought about his life.
He thought of the child who said
I want to change the world
And thought to himself
I should've started with myself.
"Once the stone
You're crawling under
Is lifted off your shoulders
Once the cloud that's raining
Over your head disappears
The noise that you'll hear
Is the crashing down of hollow years" - Dream Theater
"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they're here to stay.
Oh I believe in yesterday."
I wish that so many of my days weren't wasted in nothingness, sadness and a failure to live life to the fullest. The worst is knowing that these seconds of life are slipping away and still falling into the lethargy of not doing anything.
"I fear I've wasted all my sun, I fear I've wasted all my time. Everything is faded. Smiles are fabricated now. Held my eyes closed for too long. "
Remove one person from a multitude, you still have the multitude. But sometimes the multitude seems to be nothing without that person. Feeling alone isn't rational it doesn't make sense, it isn't the same as being alone.
“I know someday you'll have a beautiful life. I know you'll be a sun in somebody else's sky. But why can't it be mine?”
I wish I could forget things the way I can remember them. Why is it so hard to forget, why does your mind lock itself up in a prison of thoughts and sit there, crying at its own fate? I can't let go, I can't want to, though I want to want to let go. What do I do?
"She loves me not, she loves me still, but she'll never love again." **
So I sit, alone, regretful, and worried about nothing in particular. Just wanting to do something worthwhile, something beautiful and lovely that gives me purpose. I don't want to just drift away not having done anything. I can't go one, not making an impact on anything.
There once was a child who said
I want to change the world.
He went to school, and he learnt.
He learnt that the world is very big.
So he said, I want to change my country.
He grew, and he travelled.
He learnt that his country was big.
His country had a lot of problems.
So he said, I want to change my city.
He got a job, and he began to work.
He worked and worked and he made a lot of money.
He learnt that his city was big.
It was a city and he was just a man.
So he said I'll change my family.
He got married, had children.
He found out that his wife was a spendthrift.
His children were spoilt brats.
His in-laws used him for his money.
One day, he had a heartattack.
He lay in his bed, dying
He thought about his life.
He thought of the child who said
I want to change the world
And thought to himself
I should've started with myself.
"Once the stone
You're crawling under
Is lifted off your shoulders
Once the cloud that's raining
Over your head disappears
The noise that you'll hear
Is the crashing down of hollow years" - Dream Theater
Monday, August 2, 2010
Thoughts on thoughts
We are always thinking. Even when we think we aren't. Even when we're flipping through photos on Facebook, or watching TV, sometimes even when we're reading a book. Thoughts that float through your head like irridescent bubbles, if you don't try to catch them, they're gone so fast that if you suddenly look up from the page of the suspense novel you were readingwon't even realize that they were there.
These are the most startling thoughts, the ones which trickle by like sunshine, weightless and featherlike when you think that you're thinking of something else. And sometimes, when your feeling particularly clear headed (or conversely are so sleepy that you're waiting for your mind to drift off) you can pick out these thoughts. Sometimes I wonder, whose thoughts are these? They can be strange and heavy, filling you with a bewildered sadness which you can't pinpoint to anything in particular. They can be full of insight.
And when you see the things in your own mind like a recording of a foreign language movie, and I mean really see it, without feeling any emotions for the actors, who aren’t your friends and family but just people, you hear their words and believe them for what they are sometimes you understand things more clearly. The things we want to believe, the things we feel strongly like sadness jealousy and fear they impose onto people and incidents much the same way that music on a scene from a movie does. That becomes the thought, the real truth gets lost in the interpretation we make out of it. Whenever we recall the thought, we’re filled with all those emotions we associated with it.
Floating around in our subconscious, these pure memories, just people and words and actions, they lurk. And at that rare moment when you can understand it, they bring a world of clarity to you. You never have to feel anything, its all in your mind, what you feel is what you’ve decided to feel. Sounds too easy? But its true. To feel at peace with a memory which once caused you pain sometimes you have to just think of it, just the pure memory instead of avoiding it. Return it to what it is, just a plain thought. A piece of light. :)
These are the most startling thoughts, the ones which trickle by like sunshine, weightless and featherlike when you think that you're thinking of something else. And sometimes, when your feeling particularly clear headed (or conversely are so sleepy that you're waiting for your mind to drift off) you can pick out these thoughts. Sometimes I wonder, whose thoughts are these? They can be strange and heavy, filling you with a bewildered sadness which you can't pinpoint to anything in particular. They can be full of insight.
And when you see the things in your own mind like a recording of a foreign language movie, and I mean really see it, without feeling any emotions for the actors, who aren’t your friends and family but just people, you hear their words and believe them for what they are sometimes you understand things more clearly. The things we want to believe, the things we feel strongly like sadness jealousy and fear they impose onto people and incidents much the same way that music on a scene from a movie does. That becomes the thought, the real truth gets lost in the interpretation we make out of it. Whenever we recall the thought, we’re filled with all those emotions we associated with it.
Floating around in our subconscious, these pure memories, just people and words and actions, they lurk. And at that rare moment when you can understand it, they bring a world of clarity to you. You never have to feel anything, its all in your mind, what you feel is what you’ve decided to feel. Sounds too easy? But its true. To feel at peace with a memory which once caused you pain sometimes you have to just think of it, just the pure memory instead of avoiding it. Return it to what it is, just a plain thought. A piece of light. :)
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