They say that in the deepest moments of our solitude, is where epiphanies lie. But then there are some of us, who just find comfort in solitude, not wisdom. Certainly, not clarity. Being alone is perhaps over-rated, but then so is surrounding ourselves with people. Maybe it is all about finding the balance. Gah! What a perfectly boring paragraph.
One cannot understand why one get into these ridiculous moods where one wants to ponder on the nature of life, the universe and the precise timing of the next door neighbour's pressure cooker whistle (which is perfectly synchronized with the other neighbor's unholy barking bout [yes, the said neighbour is canine] every morning). One is perfectly happy with one's natural state of ignorance for most part of the year, and then comes one of "those days" where fancies oneself as unrealised potential and feels slightly guilty about not waking and (ab)using one's prodigious but largely dormant genius.
Sigh! One feels like one is in one of those confusing before-and-after type commercials, that being with being black and white and deary and then suddenly become loud and colourful. Only in one's case there are fewer hot people to look at.
Fridays, what does one do with them?