snow

It is true until it is said.

Layer upon layer, over the years, beautiful as it may be, snow has got deposited and in the eternal winter, it sheaths what lies beneath. The sleeting ice needs to be broken. Lets try. Friends were made and friends were lost. The harder I tried to hold on, the farther they went. I am on the lost list of some too. It is almost silly how easily I fall in love and try ever so hard to convince myself to let it go. Or make friends and then having to let them go. Lately, being on guard all the time has turned boring and tiring. So what if some don't like me? So what if anyone doesn't like me? What if I do like something? They are just opinions. They change. I am too old to be trying to find a best friend, as much as I would like that. Also have to consider how many people I have prevented from reaching there. Now it feels like friends have all but disappeared. Sometimes I wonder at the very idea of a friend. It is not true that there aren't any friends. There are enough who would answer a cry for help and who have my respect and trust. But, If I let myself go, I end up in this mad needy state that feels most unhealthy -- I am just becoming more and more of a deviant, in ways I hardly foresaw. But for that, there is an enigmatic freedom, mostly random and feeble and ephemeral, in which there are things to wonder at, in every degree of the tri-dimensional compass. Easy smiles. The ungot and the lost are something to be tried for, with zest sans fear of failing and sans the compulsion of possessing. Say, what do I do in life outside of these words? I write in a different language -- to communicate with machines. I program, and contribute a little in the designing.

Merry Christmas.
[+/-] my favorite version of the Carol Of The Bells