Dusty Remains of a Weblog

For whom, it suddenly occurred to him to wonder, was he writing this diary? For the future, for the unborn.His mind hovered for a moment round the doubtful date on the page, and then fetched up with a bump against the Newspeak word doublethink. For the first time the magnitude of what he had undertaken came home to him. How could you communicate with the future? It was of its nature impossible. Either the future would resemble the present, in which case it would not listen to him: or it would be different from it, and his predicament would be meaningless. (From 1984 by George Orwell)

Very recently, when I was googling for the words - I wasn't jumping for me it was a fall, a very very interesting blog came up on the search list. A deserted blog infact. Deserted on 20th july 2006. And the last line of that blog just echoed what this paragraph from 1984 says.

It’s been more than four years now. I see no point in carrying on with online journalling. In time to come, I will perhaps talk about all this on a Sunday afternoon. But the time has come for us to just say goodbye. No more ’see you’s or ‘cheers’ or ‘later’ because there will not be anymore. And perhaps in time to come, you too, dear reader, will realise the futility and vanity of all this.
Goodbye.

Very haunting yet bitterly true words which I am slowly understanding. The whole blog was a very interesting one. And one that seemed very familiar. There is no email or no other link, I would have loved to have talked to the person once. I picked up a very interesting idea from his blog, which I will give him full credit of, once and if ever I finish my story.

I collect my memories like little gems - blues, greens, reds, purples, ambers, and other colours that lay nestled in my mind, and for the most precious ones, in my heart.

The person was an avid U2 fan, and it is a U2 song lyric that brought me to his page. I listened to the song - Walk On, after reading part of the lyrics from his blog, and its a fantastic song too.

But there was so much that felt like deja vu on that blog. His entry on 31st May,2006 read

Down the rabbit hole… how far will I go?

And if I could, I would never come home.

Ipso facto
Using up your oxygen, you know i’m shallow
Calling out for extra help
You’ve got to let me in or let me out

Now that was really odd! Very very odd!

And then 30th May, 2006

Most times, I am overflowing with thoughts, with a large majority of them being very dark and unsuitable for coffee shop conversations. And in those moments, I truly feel like I can’t belong. Like I’m lying on the fringes of society, not wanting to belong, and not being allowed to belong anyway. Perhaps that’s why I find the notion of being in transit, constantly on the move, unsettled, and uprooted rather comforting. Sure I miss the familiar faces, and the same ‘ol same ‘ol things of home, but I just can’t shrug off that feeling of I don’t belong here.

Thats what I feel most of the times. People misunderstand this feeling by thinking that I am trying to run away or not trying to learn how to fly by jumping. But thats not the point, its just like that line again - I wasn't jumping for me it was a fall, a long way down to nothing at all. But we'll keep the discussion to this blog.

There was a lot of soccer blogs too, the person was a bigtime soccer fan. And some family blogs and general travel blogs. The person had probably travelled a lot and it was connected to his work or study maybe.

I find myself sitting awake in front of the computer screen. With the lingering thoughts of a cold night by the river. We don’t talk much these days, me and my antithesis.

And we wake up in the breakdown
Of the things we never thought we could be

Antithesis is the completely opposite part of you. Like Yin and Yang. Sort of like your alter ego. When you shut that other person inside you, I think you achieve a sort of a feeling of No feeling. That antithesis brings in unrest, and when you are finally not talking to him, then maybe you could be thinking more clearly.

There are a few short stories here and there in the blog too. I felt that those were clearly inspired from personal events in life rather than just being fictional.

I am in a state of suspension now. Just so tired of having to think so much, and yet, there is too much to sort out. Like a computer that hasn’t been defragmented for the longest time. I just wished I had a boat to sail out to sea. And never come back

When I am in a bus, I just love staring out of the window and wishing that this bus ride wouldnt ever end and I wouldnt have to get down for a destination, and I could just be seated right there and the bus would keep going and going. I am suspended on a chair right now with my leg on the computer table, and I've been writing for the last 2 hours. I can keep this going all night.

But the question fisherkid and 1984 pose is who am I doing this for? For myself? Yes thats how I started it. And then maybe I lost a purpose of the whole thing. I do have a story to finish, lots of ideas flowing inside my head, and lots of characters, and lots of lines floating. Could I just finish the story before I leave home. Maybe I will eventually find my wings now....