banal blog

ahhhh! the bliss of blogging. the sheer pleasure of uninhibited emotional ( ok, let's face it, not so emotional also) dumping on unsuspecting readers, is something to be savoured. blogs do not have the tendency to end back in my mailbox with the added inscription"explain", blogs do not provoke nearests and dearests to call in the middle of the night to demand
a) why are they being subjected to mass-mailing ( because i love all of you equally and want to tell u the same things. not like my life is the most sensational one , that i can spin ten thousand stories for each of you. duhhhh)
b) why am i taking up valuable to mail-box space to describe soda snorting out of someone's nose
( because that is the most interesting thing that happens to me on an average week )
c) what exactly did i write in a five kb mail that the server at work had firmly screened ( like i remember. how silly can people be?)
d) why am i angry/ happy/ depressed/ insert appropriate emotion?

ok, this last one is a bit of a bummer.on one level, i'm secretly very thrilled to attract attention to my emotional state and then i coyly retreat back to non-chalance, and at another level, i'm very scared to find that emotions bewilder people. a lot of them. including me. as if my generation has forgotten how to deal with one's own or other people's emotions. frightening.

thus, blogging remains the safe option. like casting bottles in the sea. writing this however, i get this spark of memory, one of those stories where a person who had sent out a bottle with his details into the atlantic, he got an awful letter from another for littering!!!

so what do i litter other people's lives with? generally , i see negativity being dished around. i mean i hardly ever recieve, or for that matter write, mails about happy things. not that i do not have a happy life. considering everything, i think i am an averagely happy person.

yet, its the minor episodes of irritation, sadness, grief , anger - those blips that dominate my communications. little things like why my otherwise nice person friend has the IMing social skills of a maggot, why do i not own a blue ball point pen despite buying several each time i go to the market, why do i feel an insane rage to see my Bare Naked Ladies CD missing and my friend's father thinks we are sharing porn; or more narcicistic bigger life size things like why do i detest it when people just take me for granted, after all i grant them the liberty by being too dumb or too inoffensive;why do i have the insane urge to upset and complicate my life even greater , the moment it reaches some semblance of tranquility; why do i feel restless though i try very hard not to; why do i give in; why do i give up; why do i keep losing the map;why do i never look back after saying good-bye's; why do i not hold people tighter, closer, safer; why do i feel sad, sometimes, when there is no good reason?

i don't know what i look for when i write about these things. after all the anonimity of the blank computer screen makes it easier to express these, but what after that? am i so socially retarded that i can't connect to people in 3D? am i so emotionally bankrupt that i am not comfortable talking about these things to people, even the ones i love?or is it an endemic generational depression that is so commonplace that there is no point talking about it?or even blogging it, for that matter.