Eavesdropping 1

Overheard in public transport.

"I hate it you know."
"I know."
"I mean that sneaky little brat was standing there all the time behind me looking at everything on the monitor."
"You should have done it at home."
"Yeah, but I had to use the school House Exam template."
"You did change 'em, yeah? So it shouldn't matter."
"Uh, yeah. But I was so totally horrified when I noticed him. He pretended to have come for assignment consultation. The cheek...It felt so...um, I felt naked, you know."
"I know."

Love

Maybe s/he likes me more than just as a friend, maybe s/he does not.

I so wish there was a way to know without any embarrassment. Since there isn't any, the ambiguity must remain. I don't mind it. Being in love alone gives me a heady feeling. I love the hurried care-for-a-coffee look between shifts. I love the small talk over coffee. I love the anecdotes from high school.

The ambiguity must remain yes because this way I don't have to deal with the less than beautiful aspects of love. I can idealise with no fear of discovering annoying habits. No ugly fights. No deliberate hurting.

Ah, paradise.

PS- It's idiotic, my mania for keeping my identity a secret, given so many of my friends already know it. The backslash in "she" is irritating; it kills the flow of the lines. I should stop being such a stupid cunt/bitch. Ah there I go again.

That 70's Show

I was listening to this Frank Zappa track "Why don't you like me" the other day and I thought hmm well that doesn't happen ever. There's this person I see at my work place... Ah, well some thoughts are better left half-articulated even if one is assiduously anonymous.

Well anyway, the song got me thinking about the singer and I noticed how he embodied the classic 70's look. Not just him, all of them 70's musicians. Did these people ever realise they "looked" their time? Did they band together and thought up the look? Sure there are wide variations but the basic theme remains the same. Yeah well they all were reacting to the same realities. Part of the reason why their music too, even though it showcases individual talent is unmistakably 70's.

Still, I mean some of them could have been plump (Elvis was a mistake, he's more like 60's anyway) or beefy or short-haired or you know, generally cute. But all wiry, all with a leave-me-alone scowl, all, for crying out loud, so 70's?

What look do we embody? Are we really just a pastische of past generations? Or is Jameson wrong? Would we know better when we have the advantage of perspectival distance, say, 30 years from now? What would our "now" mean then? Would it be a neat "then" or cut up in parts we never recognised as separable? Do we do all this to past times? Wokay, time for my coffee.

Waste Management

I was stood up by someone today. We were supposed to meet at a place and go together to our common destination. I hate being stood up. Makes me feel like the ultimate loser. No amount of apologising later can make up for wasting my time. Not that I have every moment of my life planned out or neatly allotted to lofty tasks. But nobody besides me has the authority to waste my time.

And what does one do with wastage of time. It is one thing that cannot be retrieved in any way once it has been wasted. It is not like a nice light-blue shirt which gets ruined with ink stains. That could still be managed. It can be dyed to a darker shade. Multi-tasking is the only thing through which wastage of time can be remotely offset in anyway. But I can't read Milton standing on a bus stand.

I would be miserable with guilt if I stood someone up however unintentionally that might be. In fact I am. A friend wanted a certain book picked up and I couldn't find it. Not my fault that it was not available but I should have at least called her up and told her. I didn't. I wish I were not so lonely.

In Class

Christ I have self-obsessed Narcissuses for friends. He waved at me frantically during the snacks break. Could I please sit next to him for the rest of the session? The papers were terribly boring and he didn't have anybody to pass chits to. I had no strong reason to say no. Besides, I didn't want him to think I was being cold or snobbish. I live for their approval.

He is right. The papers are all pictures of squandered potential. My mind wanders. The paper reader's accent. I wish I didn't notice accents as much as I do. Makes me feel narrow-minded and intolerant. I am not narrow-minded. I am very scared of being that. I don't want to stop dead in my tracks one day and realise in an epiphanic moment that I was being that.

I wish he were not so selfish. I like him. I wonder if he even realises that he's selfish. Certainly he's not selfish in any material sense. Quite generous on the contrary. Generous with his friendship too. But he gets bored with having to give. So once he's won a friend he would rather take them for granted. I wonder how he sleeps. Ill be too scared to lose friends to be like that. But then I'm not him.

So yes the Narcissus waved and I spent the post lunch session playing tic tac toe and reading wise-ass comments. Wish the Prof hadn't seen what went on behind her back.