Logicless Logic

just another.

It's the evening now. The evening today is like most evenings on most other days. Today happens to be Thursday, but it feels no different from a Monday or a Friday. Other than the fact that it feels slightly melancholic today. I'm sure the melancholy has nothing to do with the day of the week, or the month of the year or stuff like that. But it does have some far fetched links to having no constructive activities to do for the past month (which has felt like a year).

It's funny how a person who craves to escape the mundane routine of working/studying life feels so great when he finally breaks free of it. Then he falls into the routine of aimlessness and all of a sudden, there is a need to get back into the routine, even if it's just to have something to have a whine about. At least it takes ones mind of other less tangible stuff that happens when time is too abundant.

The routine of aimlessness is a scary thing. Time slows down to a crawl, and things that one may avoid thinking about while doing something slowly surfaces in your mind, bobbling about like a cistern may bobble about in the tank of a toilet. And when these are combined, one passes such a routine like a horror movie put on slow-mo. The contents of the horror movie is personalised, to what one particularly doesn't like and is replayed over and over again, different permutations and possibilities of those particular things. Closing your eyes doesn't make it go away. It doesn't go away. It cannot be grasped or understood. And what is not understood and rationalised is the most scary.

It hangs around until the particular fears are bravely faced and problems solved. Yet it is always easier with words. Talk is cheap. Talk is worthless, but the price of action is great. One chance. Perhaps that is part of the fear. Failure to take that chance. Action could cause failure. Yet inaction is also an action. What to do? Ramble on about it, hoping it would spur one into action. Yet never moving. This doesn't make sense anymore. Since when has anything made sense anyway? Perhaps that's why this evening is particularly melancholic.

justin.

posted by justin @ 5:51 PM