in bombay

14/6/15:

I am in bombay today, i must feel like i have come home.

The idea of a home, the house - has blurred in my head - i feel like i no longer belong, nor here, nor there. The idea of moving, through places and time, too hasn't made home in my head. A limbo.

My head, is recovering from a childhood and the adolescence - i now feel, at 25 - i must spend a good part of my life recovering. A recovery.

I recover or say, i try,  from everything I've lost - things that were either not mine to keep or choose not to be, but things i held dear nevertheless. My own.

I am left holding nothing dear and at this point of time ( i wrote juncture - but couldn't carry its heaviness), there's nothing i want to do or achieve - to say it in naked, unashamed words -there`s aimless. Drifting

Nothing makes sense, nothing holds on, the permanence i so longed for, from the time i had my first mature thot, has ceased to grant itself to me. And all I'm now living in, is, in its weakest form - the temporal. The tempest. Where the choices i make seem immaterial - there's no better or worse, all that is, is temporary.


The restlessness of the sea, shores up this mind. I get tired of these silly rants, when nothing makes sense amidst all these flying thoughts

hdk

Honk

When i drive.. I turn into a maniac. My condition, I'm told is a constant state of mania - for all the time i spend on the ground, which is, all the time, when I'm awake.

Its my lack of attention that we drifted from driving, something i don't do without a signal.

While I'm driving my compulsive disorder is at its prime - i think. I abuse at the vehicle which turns without intimating me while I'm driving behind it - i curse at those who cut lanes, i smite those who blare their lights on my eyes, i plan to kill those who appear out of nowhere and startle me and my optimum balance.

Humans, I'm told learn the fine art of cursing when they are driving. Its true. For those of us who abide the rules, those who don't, are an absolute shame and should be thrown of this planet.

I began wrong, those of us who don't understand and want to follow the nuances that involve sharing road - should be barred from using one. So its not me being a maniac, its them.

And the fact that i like things to be in their proper place, shouldnt be termed obsessive, nor a disorder.

Honk!

the problem

I wouldn't. But here u go.

There's no frame of mind.. I think d frame is emptied and sublet to space. Everything that invariably remains is outside it and all I'm doing is waiting for it to wither away.. And then crumble the frame too. The more easy it seems the difficult it gets..but all of this, still, resides in some kind of frame - its infinity is in its emptiness

I sometimes have a very strong feeling of throwing away my cfa books and start reading him.. In one of his books he writes I'm a cage in search of a bird.. I dunno but it does feel like that.. Otherwise the purposelessness gets the better of everything i do and mean

A lack of purpose wouldn't be a frame of mind.. Its more of a condition.. Hah.. A frame of mind is temporary.. An incurable condition is vast in its permanence..
And so i must throw my fone away and stop ...

My problem of seeking balance ruins happiness and muffles sadness