There are times when I feel like just an empty little box. And the entire world feels like an accounting software from the early 80's. Essentially black with badly shaped figures moving around in a predetermined and contrived manner to create the illusion of novelty. Cold colour, like neon lights fill the empty space to give you the sense that the program has a purpose. A higher purpose than just to add a few figures up.

Sometimes I wonder how everybody doesn't see it. The contrived novelty of it all. I'm not saying its a bad thing nor am I being cynical. I'm just calling it the way it is. None of it seems to have a higher purpose. Flashy lights are just that and nothing else. But I guess I can't really tell you. Because this is the vestige of an entire arc of thought left-over from a stupor last night. I've pretty much forgotten myself, all I remember is thinking a lot about the glaring colours in the old accounting softwares of the 1980's and finding parallels to life.

I guess it was what it was. A forgotten thought that seemed profound at the time, but now seems like an incoherent garbled stream of thought.

I also remember thinking a lot about my late teens last night. Ages 15-18. I should use that quote from Simon and Garfunkel, but I won't. It was a strange time in my life and I don't think I'll ever be able to fully tell anyone about it. Simply because most of the time was a fuzz of growing up. Everything happened then. My life suddenly took shape and almost 90% of my identity was formed then.

But all that is irrelevant. That whole period has a particular feel to it. I don't quite know how to describe it, but I know it has to do with a mixture of west-coast rains, being alone and wheels on wet roads with friends that seemed like they would stick around forever. The cold wet air in my lungs. The orange streetlight on the main road of manipal. The characteristic deep dark grey of the skies mingled with darkened laterite rock and green moss. And shades of green, so many shades of green. If I close my eyes I can just see flashes of the place all around me. Manipal was beautiful.

And I remember wet roads a lot. I remember rains a lot. I remember that feeling of just entering your house just after a ride in the cold rain and toweling your head a lot. I remember being young, like the real deal young. Over-confident. In need of friends. And I found them too. And in those moments, in those days, I was "there".

No, I can't. I can't write about this. I know I've given you nothing in this post. But believe me when I tell you, my heart is bursting. I can't type anymore. Even though this part of my life is infinitely beautiful and reading about it would be so satisfying, I just can't.

I don't have the words. I'm sorry.