I cant help it

That guitar riff somehow just captures it. Her passing through my life like that. Like a breeze with a faraway destination, never meant for me. And me flaying my arms like a madman and trying to touch it, feel it.At the same time realising that it is impossible.As my brain infroms me repeatedly of the inevitability and my heart is disheartened, my arms and body refuse to listen -  they are acting outside my control.

In the end, we are just two little carbon based life forms. We'll exist for atmost 50,60 years more. In the vastness of the universe, and the eternity of time, it doesnt matter at all.So dont the chemical and neurobiological activity taking place inside me. Which feels like what people recognize as love. It would give me great relief to just send the message across. In the overall vast canvas of space time , it doesnt matter at all. Why can I not do it, then ?
Because it is pointless. It will give me great hurt, and it will sure damage cause me damage.

....

What is the puzzle? I can feel it. Yet I know words wont be able to capture it. They would diminish the magnitude of the problem.  Not magnitude. Because the puzzle has no magnitude. It is incomprehensible, but more than that. The closest who ever came to convey or express the puzzle is Douglas Adams. The question to the answer of life, universe and everything.
If we cant even describe the question, bringing in the notion of an answer is pointless.and thats exactly what 42 is.
What is life? What is consciousness/? Time, Memory? Future? To express the question succinctly, WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?

New Slang

The memory of her is forever saved in the song. It will always be there, no matter what. After she has left, after shes married, had kids, gotten old. She'll remain in there.

The truth is..

She does not like me. Yet she is always nice to me.She does not see me as I imagine she does. Does she pity me on some level? I hope not.

I  wish I was cool.

Nope.
Not going to write about it.
Not even a word.
I promised myself.
Wont write about the IIC trip and the Eatopia Dinner.
Sigh.
I realised I am extraordinarily happy when I'm with her, and have this overwhelming sense of loss when I'm not.
Its a tradeoff. I can let go off both. Do I prefer the eternal melancholy with the spikes of joy?

“Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.”

It is extraordinary. Shes just not leaving my mind. Its like a virus, only much worse. Fabulous.Astounding. After all those years of self enlightenment, there is still much to know about myself.

and to think that its not something unique. That there are probably many others  who felt the same, and went through the same. The mere thought is depressing. That I am just one of the many.and theres is nothing to it. nothing special about it.

Its been an interesting semester.Powerfully Stimulatingly interesting.

I can see myself doing irrational stuff and trying to rationalize it.and yet,after all the clever observation, do nothing about it. Why did I not attend the MUN workshop and go to the IHC talk instead? Why did I not hesitate a bit in getting the class postponed?
Because of the new experience, the randomizing knowledge philosophy, being impulsive and trying out different things stuff? I am not so sure.

Why am I even considering asking her out for the Stiglitz lecture? Because of the reciprocrity thing? I can easily ask Shankhayan or Prachi or Charu or PGM. It might even be better if I go alone. Why, then? I know the answer to the question. and yet I dont know it.Compelete irrationality is what it is. or is it something more serious? like a drug addiction?

“Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.”


Atleast I know it is temporary. Atmost one semester left.

No more posts

Irrationality

I am afraid I might start hating her. Ofcourse, eventuall I will. I dont want it to go that way. It wont remain pure then. I think staying away is better. For it. and for her.

Why do I still do these irrational things?

Issues

So..other people have issues too. and Probably more serious than mine.  

The Game

There is nothing more dejecting and disheartening than this feeling of solitude. The solitude that arises from the inability to communicate.Not inability. Impossibility. Even more so when theres nothing you want to do more than this. To go. Shake and make her understand. Talk and write letters. Even cry maybe..But there is nothing,nothing I can do that will bring her even an inch closer to me.
The Game. It is not a very high level game as Ma'am said. I just realised I am playing it everyday, every moment. and I am losing every time. and its just not the game I am losing.