Dead Flowers

Wednesday, July 01, 2020

I think I can take the liberty of doing this today and hope I actually come up with better stuff for the upcoming days. 


I've taken a long fucking time to arrive to where I am at. It's taken me a shower a day (sometimes even three) to think of all the things I used to be, to do and aspired to reach. While I was dedicated to that praxis and ticked most of them off, I got complacent. We all do. I became the person I wanted to be and hit the points which I wanted to. 

If I was a colossal nerd in 2007 and wanted to be fun and cool for the masses, it happened. The only difference being, in this growth I forgot to chart what next. 

A friend, a recurring name here (who shan't be named this time cause he called this page Fluff and until he publically admits it isn't, going forward he won't be named) shared this heartwarming bit about his life growing up. I'm skipping the sordid details but if he reads this, he'll know it. 

When everyone else was busy getting laid and being cool, apparently, he was reading the depths of the internet. While I find his claims of being a nerd at home hard to believe this story has more. 

At present, he says, the stuff he read or the research he did back in the day helps him flex his wits out while he's not lost out on banging people or getting laid. 

Point being, we all eventually reach where we want to. Whether it's after spending night after night on YouTube and Facebook, scoring enough content and research to write a chapter in your MPhil so good that your advisor goes from your critic to a fan on your internet pop-culture discourse to even hearing day in and out from people, you are all that and then some more. 

I find it hard to believe and hard to gather. I'm told depression does this. A conversation for another day. 

For today, we'll stop at taking stock of what we have and where do I want to go from there. Hopefully, 31 days of writing later, I'll have some rhythm. A method to madness, if you please. 

Maybe, I'll hammer out the plot to the book another friend is badgering me to write. Or block a domain name or five for some ideas. Or even, start ten more blogs. 

The restlessness has gotten to a point where twiddling thumbs is not cutting it anymore. Usually, I take word dumps here and let it be. Maybe, this is all one giant dump I have been meaning to take and haven't done so in a long time, over a year. Maybe, this is a one of thing.

We'll know. We'll know soon. 




(Title reference; track of the day)

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