This one is to be redemptory, and simple; in respect of that gracefully careless manner when I had only started chronicling my eclectic musings (which, now, seem like i was on a warpath to write a lengthy indictment against our century).
In a way, being in college in those days made it easier to be mad - one could be close to several horrible people, and at the same time feeling completely sane and detailing every aspect of that loony culture. Now out of those environs, though I still manage to find horrible people everywhere, but due to the circumstances I find even myself sort-of committing to this human condition: because I need to get work done; because I need to act profitable; because I have finances to play with; because I am supposed to stop being passive (oh the joys of being passive); because there are social protocols that I never cared about earlier; because these are people I will see every day of my life; because survival decided to kick in to compensate for my (failed) talent and learning.
From another perspective, I think being in an educational institution itself is conducive to more worthy observations - somewhere around the time that we are supposed to read and cram, we find ourselves thinking, and the discipline of a scholar's life combined with the puzzled naivety of a youth that still finds it worth to heckle over every unreasonable logic, in a safe environment, makes it perfect to love and hate things. Our notions, though narrower, aren't mixed into a gravy in those early days. And conversely, our social lives are total gravy - of people, prejudices, ideas, dragged context-less conversations, ponytails and bob-cuts, nervous fashion of hair gels, jackets, jeans, skirts, salwar-kurtas, sandals, papa's boots...the list goes on. I thrived back then. I still do, but not at snippet blogposts that did so well to hack a minor irritation into thousand little pieces, make a garland out of those, light a bonfire, and dance next to it till the daybreak.
A third reason could be a term loosely phrased as 'second order vanity': that I care about not wanting to convey that I care about stuff that happens around me and drives me mad. Being vain is a character flaw; however, being vain about not being vain is just psycho. It is the worst thing that can happen, and it usually drives people into their grave, because then people never change because they won't want the others to know that they want to change (and a change obviously puts you in the headlines). To hide my second-order here, I would've have started to exhibit social symptoms, synchronizing to the language of people who I rarely find even tolerable, giving shit about matters of life that will never be a part of my lifestyle, even an affable cheery attitude towards fat people.
There... now I have three reasons to loathe myself about.
This hour of thought has failed to drive me to sleep, even though its midway 3AM and 4AM; I will go ahead and feed myself half a dozen eggs and hope that works magic against my fucked sleep cycle. There's an office to attend in a mere few hours, and I have to get that cow of my maid to do my laundry before she cleverly flees without having done so. Another dozen things lined for the next 3 days...
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