Monday, July 28, 2003

I walked through the rain. Was pouring sheets on the streets. Drenched, cold and ecstatic.
Walked the length of the road staring at the headlights and the street-lamps. Neons and halogens. Black and gold and silver.
And I was glad for all the times that I took off on a whim. All-nighters at the Maratha’s fort, bike rides through the dust, conversations on the terrace and drives with strangers.
It’s all happening at the zoo…
There are people and people and people…some of whom I cannot live with and others I cannot live without…did I also mention that those thus categorised play musical chairs all the time?

This process of people maintenance is tiring and the only reason I do it is so there remain enough that want to maintain me…mercenary eh? More like the innards of a super-efficient business plan, all other things remaining constant of course.

We dramatise our lives to the detriment of reason. And all structures are but paper sculptures. Beautiful, delicate, intricate and fragile. Every evening I add layers to the quirks of my reason and every morning I tear them down in ruthless abandon. Only to regain my illusions with the passing of the day. And thus passes my life.