Bibelot

And again we shall attempt to churn out a post out of boredom. Senseless ennui, as I always like to call it.

Today gripped me in confusing ways. I am calm, despite the blow that was the 23rd of January, yet I am bored. The earphones are starting to feel like they're a part of my head, and the sounds that come from them, though not as good as what good speakers are capable of, are not moving me at all. I know not anymore what is a good song and what is not, not with these earphones. A dissolution from over-saturation. Try doing what I've been doing at this table for the past 3 months and you'll probably end up here too.

Hello. Was the journey as sluggish and dreary as mine?

Oh, writing. Drama. Exaggeration without an intention to do so nor knowing why we do so. Of course none of it really matters. In fact, matters like this post on this blog do not matter at all, for I am my one and only audience. Yet I put this out. Why?

Because it is more convenient to type and erase and add and subtract. And seeing that I can't have anything close to a proper conversation these days due to the absence of mortal company/ beating-heart presence, the urge for any form of closure has to be appeased and made manifest here. Please note that I now admit to possible incoherence in my sentences. 

Foreseen, a particular natural query that others are apt to question upon arrival at such posts - precarious, dangerous, personal,  quite inappropriate, and redundant. Why? Regardless of subjective opinions put forth by varying individuals, I personally think that the only justification to my behaviour is aided by my certain propensity to the idea of this outward spewing of nonverbals - whether it is making sense, substantial, and agreeable, or not - to the vast unknown of viable knowns and unknowns. Doing so builds and even accentuates an unmistakable yet discreet sense of inner, unvoiced satisfaction and fulfillment of detachment. Not very unlike allowing the masses to read up on your memoir. Again, I'd like to emphasize that although varying (subjective) opinions/judgments are freely formed and stubbornly stood by, it is, however, profoundly recommended that said opinions and the like be set aside prior to engagement of action (reading). 

And yeah, because you want it out in the open instead of stashed in one of the many notebooks you've bought in your muddled past, and ultimately forgotten in the dust of time, right? There I go again, writing. Drama. Exaggerated drama in writing. Where's that moleskine that's still devoid of content, anyway? Remind me to go home and find it. But do we have time?

Time has lately been cruelly divided into portions uneven and ridiculous for me. I spend a total of up to 4 hours sitting in a crawl on a highway amongst other people sitting in the same crawl on the same highway, every day. And in between that, I sit on a chair at a table with little to no work to do, every day. Then, I am left with the final few hours of the weekdays for things I need more time to do but the productivity in these final few hours will never be fully harnessed, not after dealing with all the demotivation from the stagnant, major prior portion of time spent sitting down not being able to do anything else unless it is work-related. See how it is all so unfair?

Stop.

Look up and around. Inhale with your eyes the fluorescent lights that fill up the space around you and then close them, your eyes. Now open. It's 4.30PM. You have one more hour. You now have a choice to continue stringing together notions in the form of weak sentences, or to venture further into the depths of the internet in search of another entertainment armed well enough to kill off an hour.

Come, let's google conspiracy theories.