Just

I am happy in knowing that K is happily playing football in the locality. There's a spring in his step as he runs out in this jersey, shorts and sneakers. Cuts quite an athletic figure with his chicken legs and compact body structure. He's made football friends with a bunch of college kids, many years his junior. I wonder if they ask him about his age, profession and what's he doing hanging with them. But it doesn't matter once fragile bonds are formed over sport. The field is their playground where they're having a ball, literally. Good fun boys.
*********************************
I'm listening on loop to the best of the 2000s music compilation on Grooveshark. It has thrown up an assortment of delights. There's Basement Jaxx (where are they?), Hot Chip (consistently good), Arcade Fire (Funeral is, may be, the only indie rock album I know song by song) and Daft Punk (need I say more). 2000s was a time when my music tastes were constantly changing. I had no abiding loves (something i don't even now) and my exposure to indie/alternative music acts was quite limited. This was the era prior to Pitchfork, Poking Smot-- a time when I listened to whole albums with a patient ear (something I rarely do now). These days I find it hard to keep track of new music and upcoming genres. A lot of confusion in my head. Who are Animal Collective, The XX, Flaming Lips, James Blake, Sufjan Stevens? The list goes on...But among the so called newly-hatched talents, I adore Lorde, Lykki Li, Nicolas Jaar, Grimes. I don't know whether a few years down the line, I would remember them with the same enthusiasm as I do now. The point being I would have moved on with my music. It would like this 2000s music compilation playlist become a nostalgia of moments lost in the company of friends, family, and of course, myself.
**************************************

“If I write what I feel, it's to reduce the fever of feeling. What I confess is unimportant, because everything is unimportant.”- Fernando Pessoa

What do i do with myself? I am frustrated by my stupid habits and brooding thoughts. Each time i try to check myself, i veer into self-loathing, something that comes easily to the best of us.  But why this hate and rage, both self-directed and projected? It's a pattern repeated ad nauseam. My inherent base nature (the most lowly part of me) is to be reactive. I bounce off my fluctuating emotions, depending on what provokes me. It could be anything, from the mundane and the silly to the serious and the profound.  That i act on my emotions is worse, for a part of me is always on the edge, waiting for its next stimulus. I always itch for a good fight- how horrible is that! Compounding this is my complicated relationship with money. False as it may be, i'm constantly finding myself equating well-being with monetary success. It's ridiculous, right? Deep down, may be i also associate emotional security with money. There is of course a backstory but that's not important. What matters is what it is wreaking in my mind, a battlefield of conflicts. I have spoken to P about this but our conversations get heated and personal that is difficult to find a way out. So what do i do myself? I need some respite from myself. I don't know if it would make any sense.

dream on

I'm not much a dreamer and on most nights i usually have a restful, dreamless sleep. But there is this one dream of late that is stuck in my head and whose meaning i would like to unravel. In it, i am standing on the high end of a plunging seashore with the turbulent and frothy sea raging in the deep end. I stand calm but in fear as the waves mercilessly thrash the seashore. I am afraid that the waves might pull or drag me in and drown me in the process. This scene is set on a full moon night and i am not alone. The seashore is bustling with people watching the sea as it ebbs and flows. In this same dream sequence set during the day, i see myself walking along the seashore observing people frolic on the beach. Although i love being near the sea, i don't venture into the water. There is a acute sense of fear holding me back. This is pretty much all i can recall from this dream.

In a similar dream, i am standing on the balcony of a high-rise multi-storied building and watching an incoming tsunami as it hits the shore. I can see the massive waves rising in the background and slowly gathering speed. The sea-shore is dotted with people and shops and all manner of beach activity. But this scene remains oblivious to the approaching tsunami, something i can see from the comfort of my high perch. I watch the tsunami with trepidation and anxiety as it gathers closer to the shore. I observe the scenes of panic-induced helter-skelter and of destruction wrought as the massive fountain of water spills onto the land. But thankfully, the building on which i stand is untouched. Water flows through its lower-floor interiors and on to the streets below but no physical damage is done to its structure. I don't remember more than this but vividly register the gigantic size of the tsunami and the fear induced by its sight.

In both my dreams, fear and anxiety dominate, to a point of nausea. Yet i stand helpless and silently witness the violent waters either crash against the shore or rise like a giant tsunami. What could these dreams mean and why do i choose to remember them? To begin with, i know they hold an underlying significance to understanding my life and overcoming my unconscious fears and anxieties. But beyond this i am in a blindspot. In any case, i would like to explore this dream and unlock its hidden meaning.

book of existence

It's not that i have read the entire book or that i might even complete it but Pessoa's writing is like speaking to your own soul, in your own words and in full confidence. It's a weirdly comforting reading experience. It's almost as if Pessoa has distilled our fragmented, incomplete human existence and given it meaning. There are thoughts and fears and misgivings and love and confusions strewn in these pages, each revelatory and life-affirming. This book is to be devoured by the soul and read in complete solitude. My copy is underlined and marked for every passage is heart-achingly beautiful and touching. I am not one for touchy sentimentalism but Pessoa makes 'you feel with intellect and think with emotion'. How magical can that be!

What is spring but a renewal of nature's love?

Spring is in the air. A cool breeze sways the trees into a synchronized dance.  The rays of the sun are marigold orange that it hurts the eye. The green radiance of fresh new leaves sparkles in the light. The iridescent flowers lie carelessly strewn on the roads. There is a gallop in one's stride, a shine in one's skin and a smile on one's face. The days are warm and sunny and the evenings pleasant and fine. This is the perfect weather for long walks and long-winding conversations. It is the season of vitality and mirth, not to mention love. The decay and detritus of winter's aftermath gives way to a youthful abundance. The earth conspires in shedding the old and embracing the new. In this time of quiet observation, i sit by the balcony and write silly posts, for what is spring without a little hope?