Livinghigh

Living HIGH

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Friday, February 13, 2004

Sometimes, I don't get this 'living high' thing

So the current affairs quiz came by once more, and surprise! surprise! we won again! There's something addictive about winning, but I guess we all learn that lesson sooner or later in life.

The Joint Editor thing is also plodding along. Maybe not hyperspace-zooming-spaceship speed as I'd hoped, but not very slow, either. My main worry is to ensure that this cycle does not intrude onto next week... I don't want to have to worry till Thursday whether this headline is spaced alright, or that article has punctuation errors... There's nothing quite so irritating.

I'm not very sure I should ask personal questions here in my blog... considering that half the college reads it now - ego speaking, beware. But then, even though I wasn't very sure where I was headed with this when I started with living high, at least I know that it wasn't supposed to be any sort of a private thing. I think I'm some sort of an exhibitionist at heart... but no, that can't be true either, since I'm so completely averse to showing affection openly in public. To think... I used to be much worse in Calcutta than I am now. Now... I can hug my friends when I want to... call them mushy terms to their face... geez, I sound gay.

I don't have any gay friends, by the way. Just this specimen in Cal, who we used to tease sometimes, but then we all knew he was as straight as an iron rod... sorry, couldn't think of any amusing witticism back there. Bivas says I'm a homphobe... god, I don't seriously know whether I am, don't really care - which I suppose confirms his analysis. But since Nelly accuses me of being sex-centric in my blog, I shall not traverse on this path any more now.

I don't know how to write poetry. I only wrote a couple of specimens in my life - none of them anything to write home about... silly pun. I wonder what the end result would be if I actually tried:

Sitting alone
Thinking of you
The time we spent
Looking up
On our backs
Hard floor beneath
Soft sky above
Stars that shine and burn
They seem so far away now
Now that I'm here
Sitting alone
Thinking of you

Well.... I said if I 'actually' tried. And you'll never be able to prove that I did. You'll never prove anything.

Egoists take their secrets with them to the grave.

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