The world around, me and search for meaning

in "Illusion' Richard Bach says something about boredom. he says it is not so easy to win boredom. it is true. the boredom becomes a grand vacuum which keeps sucking everything in you in it and then you start expressing both vacuum inwards and outwards. even what i speak or listen or think get the color of boredom and music of life is lost. it is lost not in any din or any disharmony, but it is lost in strange silence.
i have not yet come over of boredom, but somehow i have created a place, may be crawling from it, from where I can watch at it. the world can be viewed with your own eyes or you can borrow some successful eyes to look at it. similarly either you can view yourself or you can view yourself from other people's eyes and try to make yourself so clean, so tidy, so neat that their eyes will admire you. fuck it...
i am starting to view myself as I am. somehow I am loosing sense of a world around me as it is nothing but only my feeling of it. is it really happening with me?
belief starts systems. and then system shapes further believes.
if I write, it won't be a truth. if it is truth, it won't be written.
why the hell one writes then?
pleasure, seeking to someone who has same feeling or for what?
why one lives at all?

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Black Mirror for the local train

Black Mirror is the poison I look forward to consuming. The ideas of humanity in the increased scope of technology are sometimes so well-portrayed that the mark of philosophical deadlock stays on one’s mind for long. With these expectations, I was bit disappointed with the first two episodes of the latest season (released in June 2023). First one was fine, though utterly predictable for those with long association with series. The second one is not even a Blank Mirror episode. By just being a psychological thriller, it doesn’t even the fit to the theme Black Mirror has explored. Finally, it hit home with the third one. There it is, a question, who we are, staring in our face as the story unfolds. The episode reminded me of a cynical imagination I have nursed for long. While commuting in suburban local trains of Mumbai, I have always wondered about it when I have felt crushed right at the start of the day by a giant wave of increasingly homogenous human existence. What if two ind

Joy

i am alone, somehow at the balance of memories and dreams, some encounters with reality practically, a room for me, a laptop, movie, food, coffee, cigarettes and loneliness to get kick out of everything.... fucking nice life! missing a mate or complete loneliness!!

Camus’ ‘The Plague’, a podcast and some thoughts about religion

For last 100 days, I am living in the shadow of epidemic. What exactly is this shadow? Part of this shadow, a small part, is death. For my age, the threat of death is not large. The great part of the shadow is possible agony of being helpless if I or my dear ones must access the health facilities. From what neighborhood WhatsApp and Social media gossip is, the hospital bed is new elite consumption. It is only one’s access to influence that can fetch a Covid-19 patient in my town a hospital bed in my town. Patients are being admitted to hospitals in other towns, sometimes 60 or more km away. Relatives often have to frantically call hospital after hospital, seek any outlet for help, all the while worrying about prospect of the patient. Possibility of this experience is the great part of the shadow. The remaining part is the boredom induced by being stuck at home. Plague is not really a great metaphor for Covid-19. Covid-19 is far too less lethal than what Plague was. But we

Encounters with Reality

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