Idle mind

is the devil's workshop. You think (actually you don't think; you have thoughts) about completely inane things and dont know what to do. That is the state I am in right now. Fuck man, is there no order in life at all? You wake up in the morning half realising its another start to 24 hours of shit; and the thought petrifies you. This horror is something like when you had your Board Exams and you were shit scared about it, cause it really mattered to do well. Voila! Thats it - I want to do well. Maybe I am putting too much pressure on myself; might as well be that times are shitty right now. Can't do anything about it. Why the hell is it always supposed to happen to me? Those who point fingers would do well to know that I play to win; everybody plays to win, don't we? Its another matter that if there were no losers (no pun!) winning wouldn't have been worthwhile. Oh sweet success! Where art though?

Sometimes I wish I could wish. And the wish'll come true. No horses now, no riding. The fact is I am no worse than the people around me if not better. So how come I bloody mess up whatever I do? Actually I don't even get the friggin opportunity to mess things up; things are just not happening. If my ass got saved this time, what is the bloody guarantee it won't be whipped next time? Or is it that I've turned too whiny? Or too complaining. Nah, can't be. I cannot be compared to myself 3, even 5 years ago. Those were grand days. Bereft of hassles, full of life itself. Why the hell have times changed for the worse now? Is this a rut I've gotten into myself? Will I ever come out of it if this is actually a rut? When?m was How? Am I the average pretentious banker?!? A banker! you may think. This noob is a banker!!!?! Yes I am one and like to be called one. Another matter that I suck at it BIIIG time; at least my numbers seem to suggest so. When will my million dollar (even a million rupees will do at this point of time) come my way?!?!?!

You know most films you like do not deal with the mundane vagaries of everyday life. They play to a theme, a plot, a specific set of audience; well most of them. I wonder therefore what did Joel Barish do most of the time when he wasn't with Clementine or thinking about her? Can I be a Howard Roark ever? I know Roark was practical, but is being Roark practical? I'd say more idealist than practical; but hey, who am I fooling? I lived Roark while reading the Fountainhead and thought identifying with him was the closest to living him out. How about Holden Caulfield for that matter? If only fiction could have been more factual! Just had the hunger pang. Gotta have some nourishment now. How bloody predictable of me! Just when I actually got thinking, hunger strikes me...