Dreams

I am not someone who regrets his actions for I usually know exactly why something was done. The closest I come to regrets is in my dreams. Sometimes they seem to last an entire night focussed on one agenda and never fail to highlight something.

I just woke up from one and thoughts are zipping by.

She was one of those doors that opened when another one was firmly closed. Beyond the un-avoided pleasantries, social habits, social media habits and personal habits there has been a definite connection. I doubt it sometimes. But I am quite sure.

She was one of the two people I hung on to when I was turning a corner. I have never felt that way afterwards because I knew what was coming. If she helped me to hold on to life's infinite possibilities then there was a he who showed me, in stark contrast and brutal honesty, death and void. It is one of those paradoxes where they end up being the same - life and death - probably. The "world" and the "void". Don't get me wrong, they are probably equally aware of both world and void... just that they ended up on different sides in my mind.

I knew I would never be able to do anything for her... It just would not work. Mostly because I am incapable. The benefits are doomed to be one way. Or may be there is still a future where it is different. But once again, thanks pal.

The dream is already evaporating. But she remained sophisticated, cracked, stubborn and savvy and the only one who can help herself was herself.... or now that I think about it, anything that she considers a part of herself. She also belongs to a set of two people who can get me completely tongue tied, for different reasons. May be it was a stupid dream or may be it is the quintessential portrait. Either way, it is etched on this dead-end: me... on a note on the ocean, appropriately, but not too far away.

Fading memories

I used to think that I have a very good memory when people were pleasantly surprised by the amount of details I used to recall. It turns out that I was just remembering slightly different things compared to most others. I had a small number of friends at any given time. I used to be like a fossil - old and out dated after whenever people moved on. I moved very slowly through psychological time since nothing much happened for me.

Those memories seem to be fading away now. Perhaps it is facebook? My selective memory is unable to cope up with the sheer volume of digital records. I got in because otherwise I was going to be left behind. It is great that you never have to lose a friend and rediscover old ones but it is almost as if the facebook accounts are friends with each other and do a lot together and you can just watch them go about it. Every account is a celebrity or a broadcast service. There's hardly any connection with the audience.

It perhaps won't be all bad. For now, I feel like an asocial dinosaur suddenly finding himself in the midst of some modern cult gathering.