For the Sheer Non-Dual Joy of Non-Sense

I feel compelled to write. I dunno if this the call from the higher order random crappiness or sheer lack of sleep, I feel this annoying itch to write.

Readers kindly note, that the itch is to write. NOT to make sense. So if you are expecting profoundness here, thou art to be grossly dissappointed and annoyingly bored.

I feel I need to make a case for being zonked. It's a good state of being. I mean, you can walk around bumping into radom stuff that pops up on the road, like trees for instance, and not feel stupid. When you've been running on coffee and denial for two weeks, that's a darn good state of being.

Now I feel accomplished that I managed to write five lines of absolute non-sense. You may now move to find worthier stuff to waste your time with.

The itch, my friend, now stands scratched.

Love in the Time of Assignment

I never thought this could happen to me! I mean, I was the kind of person who always said that I don’t have time for love, I was busy, always busy, with college, with work, with life. But now…I don’t know anymore. Things seemed to have changed. I seem to have changed.

I’m more busy that I ever have been. Assignments are piling up, tests are menacingly flexing their jaws around the corner. Eliot has come back from the dead to haunt me. But do I care? All I can think of is…no I cannot even bring myself to say the name. I sit down in front of the computer to work on my assignment. Five minutes into it, my mind wanders off. My palms become all sweaty just at the thought of it. I become nervous, jittery just thinking about it. When I cannot be with my love, I’m desperate, everything seems so…so…inconsequential. It doesn’t matter that there are assignments to be done, papers to be written…

My roommate is not too happy about it. She cannot believe that such a career oriented, serious girl like me can be so frivolously in love. She says she won’t let me ruin my life on such few moments of meaningless passion. It’s just a temporary phase she says. I’ll get over it soon, and then I will regret all the time I wasted in this illusion called love.

I admit that I cannot believe it either. It’s not love, it’s become an obsession now. I wait till my roommate is out of sight to seek a look, just one look. Then my heart aches for more. I know it’s hopeless, it was not like the beginning. I’ve reached the advanced levels now, I will lose this game. But still…what if? Last time, just one last time I tell myself. I will get back to that paper…one minute won’t hurt. Then it leads to another…and another. Till my roommate comes back, catches me at it again.

“Are you playing that stupid Mine Sweeper again??? I can’t believe you are wasting your time on such a frivolous thing crumbs, don’t you have a ton of work to do?? I should just get that thing removed from the laptop all together. I catch you at it again, and I swear I will”

Sigh! The cruel, cruel world! It never understood love. Never will. Again. Sigh.