…The Musings of a Strange Guy

Walking never felt so good…

…neither did it ever feel so painful. I think I’ve walked through the entire city centre with lightning speed…The cold weather prevented me from feeling tired with my exertions; rather it gave me a sense of exhilaration as the cold breeze blew against me.
And they’ve set up a skating rink! I went to take a look; so many people having fun, and laughing: such a delight to watch..

I love to walk through the streets of the city, be they deserted or not, just to get the feel of that city, to feel its ‘heartbeat’.
And nighttime has its own distinct atmosphere.

My Vietnamese flatmate came along but after we went to the supermarket to get a few things (in his case, a trolley-full of things), he decided he couldn’t walk one step further and had to take the bus to return to our flat.

I decided to go on and walk a bit. I think I will go out more often at night now, just for a walk to the city and back. The road gets more and more deserted as it reaches the University complex but that doesn’t really worry me. I just don’t need to take anything of value (except my life, of course) when I go outside.

I feel strangely humbled by some posts I’ve been reading this afternoon on LJ. I forget whom they are by, but still remember how I got to them, so I don’t need to wrack my already impoverished memory. Too much thinking and too little expression of that thinking is my problem. But I’ve read posts that so much reveal their authors’ character that they virtually illuminate the page they are on. When these persons state an emotion or recount an experience, you feel the truth of it, as if it were taking place in front of you. More importantly, you can feel the thought and reflection that went behind this post, almost like seeing one’s mind working…
Not that this impression of mine is restricted to LJ posters only: I have met such people, and been glad of the fact too. Just felt I had to pen this feeling of mine down before it is engulfed by trivial thoughts.

Ha! My parents again went to the seaside today; I think the whole family took off (teleported themselves, more likely – nothing surprises me anymore…or at least, more than necessary) there. I hope they had fun. Now is truly the best time to go to the beaches in Mauritius. The sun…and the sea…

Anyway, they seemed worried about me, which is rather strange after all that time I’ve now been here. I think it must have been that photograph of what my kitchen looks like which has triggered this sudden concern for ole’ me. Mom is asking me whether I can find somewhere else to stay. I don’t know where she gets this impression that I want to move away. Technically and theoretically, moving out of this university student accommodation is quite possible, provided that I shift to another accommodation owned by the uni. In the case that I move outside the uni’s allocated accommodation to, say, private lodgings, then, they do not return me money, bloodsuckers that they are…Dracula, meet thy match!!!

Anyway, this room where yours truly is sitting and typing like crazy has now become entirely mine (at least for the time being). When I think that every trace of mine will be obliterated from this room (hopefully for them, I’ve kept the walls of this room bare – unlike my own room back home which is covered with weird drawings and religious/mythological pics) in just a few months…

With me, things have a way of accreting and depositing around me, rather like a protective shell, I suppose or a cocoon (I know…I know, I’m surely a psychologist’s dream come true, hehe) and this room is no exempt from this curious phenomenon, which is called human life.

This flat room now contains twice as many things as there were when I recently came to it. This is rather funny as this has recently set me thinking of what I would do when I would have to leave the premises and wipe the slate clean again for some unsuspecting new student who’s, in turn, going to spend wonderful hours behind the bars of his cel…er…room. There are obviously some things I refuse to sell as well as some things I know that noone would be willing to buy from me. Hopefully, I can dump all these things at my aunt’s place, but knowing her, she might throw them out one day because she (unlike me) doesn’t believe in keeping things for long just because you liked them once and might like them again some day. I definitely won’t sell my books. They are very precious to me. I can give away most (if not all) of my clothes but I cannot give away my books. Which leaves me with the problem of how to take all of them back home…

I rather like the room where I am now. The very proximity of the place to the uni grants me much advantage, especially when you are going somewhere at night, or having to wake up late in the morning for your classes. It has many minus points as well, some of which often seem to overwhelm the + points. Who cares about the minuses anyway? Good things are so rare anyway…they are to be appreciated for their own sake (as well as for their rarity value…)

Just to end: I have not made any specific resolutions this year. I hope to be able to live a bit without constraint, even that imposed by my own self. I usually keep such a tight hold on myself that it has become somewhat automatic now. It is now virtually impossible for me to ‘look’ (and sometimes even feel) drunk without my thinking about it first and allowing myself to let go. Strange? Unbelievable? Ask any of my friends who’ve tried to bring me to the dark side. Little did they know that I was already there, waving a paper flag at them, hihi. Poker face I am. Good thing is I know when to stop. Even then, I’m far too gone, I’m afraid. Irrecuperable..

I need to relax a bit more. Seeing more mad people (instead of the usual sane lot whom I continuously plague, hehe) would be a good option as well. Where to find them?? They must be around…

Excuse me while I go and look…


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