Rant.

Perhaps it is the lack of fellow insomniacs who crack terrible puns at 3 in the morning or the constant honking of horns in the evening while going back home, but I seem to be coming apart. So do forgive the rants that will follow.

It is a season of wrongs. It is all wrong. The wrong cities and the wrong time and the wrong thoughts. The weather is wrong. It is supposed to be unpredictably hot and then comfortingly mild within seconds and it just won't happen. I'm sitting on the wrong chair and on the wrong side of the laptop screen and this whole room feels wrong.

The books are kept in the wrong order because why, just why should they be in height-wise order anyway? Who says it is wrong to stack them in the order of which they were loved?

The light is wrong, it no longer falls gracefully and has to be forced in through a tubelight that has something wrong with it and so won't start until I clamber up a chair and twist it forcefully which is again, a terrible way to start things off.

The location of the office is wrong and so is the loneliness of sitting facing the wall while your DVD refuses to work the right way. It is wrong to have to wake up feeling like the day has already been lived yesterday and that like the day past, today will also turn out to be a mine-field of things done wrong.

And I want to stand on the rooftop, jump up and down in frustration and yell to the world that it is going in the wrong direction but then again, does anybody really listen to the crazy kid on the roof?

Fuck you, when you say that my life is perfectly worked out because it isn't anywhere close to being that. Try living like this and you'd think twice before you make that snide comment ever again. But I can't because right now you're the only friend I know and I'd be much too lonely if you left as well.

They're all gone. The best friends, the boyfriend, the one bit of family outside family I relied on. And it's wrong how the one person still here is too busy because of a college she didn't even want to go to really. Everything is wrong and silly and has stopped making sense since I don't know when.

So maybe, just maybe when the weather changes and autumn comes, life will start making sense again but the wait till then is far too long and there is not enough to keep me sane till then.

And so I finally understand what my boss often says when the whole concept of living begins to confound him as well: "What to do? Life is slow, sad thing. Ask Mani Kaul."

Fuck it and maybe let me end of it all.