Archive for May, 2007
By randomly choosing symbols from an array of special characters, the artist becomes a selector – a mere agent of nature – thus breaking the inevitable link between creator and created
In response to BM’s this here tag, and after a lot of coaxing
1. I talk in my sleep. Not just babble, but carry out entire conversations in seemingly logical ways. It’s cause for much consternation amongst people who attempt to do it, especially gfs attempting pillow talk.
2. I am mentally playing some beat or the other, and consequently tapping my fingers on something all the time, or tapping them against each other to keep count (in sort of a cigarette tapping motion)
3. Every time a plane lines up at one end of the runway and accelerates to take off, the song “Highway to the danger zone” from Top Gun plays in my head.
4. I am terrified of piled up laundry. As it lies in a corner of my bedroom, I tiptoe around so as to not wake it up.
5. When I am at a cliff edge, I am always tempted to peep over it to see what lies below. This applies to hiking, but also life in general.
6. My fridge still has the bowl of hummus that I made (it didn’t turn out well) last summer. It’s green and hairy now. These days, it has taken to scurrying to the back when I open the fridge.
7. I can spend days lying back in my chair and listening to music. When I get into that phase, I don’t step out of the house and can usually get by with one meal a day.
8. I obsessively count how much sleep I get. The most sleep deprived I have ever been was when I stayed up for 88 hours with 2 hours of sleep. The second most sleep deprived was 83 hours with 3 hours of sleep.
This thing – it has gone on for too long. It makes me disgusted of myself and irritable all the time. Every day when I look into the mirror, it’s not the bloodshot eyes or the stubble that hasn’t been trimmed for weeks that bother me – its this thing i have to face as I stare at my reflection.
It happens to me from time to time, you know. It’s easy to not watch out and keep track of what you are up to when life gets a tad busy. You think you are all out of it, and you slowly slip back into old ways. The last time was a few months ago – but that was winter, but then I at least have the excuse that winters are depressing. This time around, I didn’t even realize.
But there is still hope. There always is. In fact, what surprises me is how easy the remedy is, and how in spite of it, I allow myself to be this way.
An elderly arabic gentleman who lives in my neighborhood and plays the Oud will be my saviour. For today is hair-cut day.