It feels so strange to know that I have not written here for over a month. And possibly indicative of the alienation that comes from not knowing where one day ends and the next one begins…but such thoughts are for another place.

This is a scattered post; an attempt to reassure myself that I have not stopped looking at or thinking about what is important.

I found myself sharing living space with someone who was mentally challenged, for a while. And it got me thinking about a lot of things, but mostly about the difference between true and false compassion. At what point do our platitudes or mental click-click’s actually start to mean something to us? At what point do we start knowing we have a sense of what a mentally challenged person goes through everyday. How she feels when people keep repeating something, and thier mouths move, but she cannot understand? What she goes through when her jerks and fidgets and the grimaces she has no control over are not understood. What is she thinking when she spends hours looking vacously into space? Can she feel my cold-blooded detachment from her predicament? And is my cold-blooded detachement a lie, a wall?

I began to wonder what moods meant, and how they change people.

I spent a lot of time, at another point, in a lonely cubicle with large screens all around me, editing something frame by frame, endlessly, for what seemed like weeks. And I got to wondering about perfection. And how far it really was from anything. No matter how hard we try. No matter who we are. For we can only see so many things, or stay awake so many hours, or stay interested for so long. No matter who we are. What then, is perfection?

And I came to think about trajectories. Life trajectories. I know they don’t mean anything. Just like the dew on a leaf in the morning doesn’t mean anything. But what is the meaning of a trajectory in a meaningless world? And does not having an over-arching purpose mean that something does not have…meaning?

And I thought a lot about alientation that results from trajectories. Alientation from a constant need to catch up, no matter how ordinary our attempts.

And I am quiet. For now, I am too tired to seek any answers. I am as always, just full of questions.