Lately some friends have posted a few notes of concern about my thoughts on this ilog. They are overly concerned. They need not be so concerned about something as inconsequential. I generally think that life is inconsequential and it makes no difference, whether it moves forward or ends. In simple terms, nothing makes a difference in this endeavor. There is nothing specific or general, which is prompting me to write these thoughts. These are nothing more than musings, but to suggest that they might be random is misleading.

It takes a painful to look within one’s own self to determine, what it is that makes a person. It is not about character and neither is it about any heroics or any false sense of importance. This process, in more ways than one, started years ago and it is only now, that I have to began to see its outter limits. This a natural progression of things and there is nothing sinister to think about in such terms. These are questions of mortality and they are applicable to a life, which has seen its share of deaths. Death does not worry me and in fact, it is reassuring. Death reassures, because in all the uncertainity that qualifies as life, death is the one constant about which there can be no doubts.

Suicide is never an option and having seen two friends in college commit suicide within six months of one another, I know what are the consequences of such an act. I have seen, and I have cried over, the wreakages of emotions and lifes and hopes which are littered over the landscape of sorrow. Suicide is the easy way out, because it does not solve anything as much as it creates a sense of an over whemling loss. I have sat for hours in the dark of the night, talking to people and trying to convince them not to chose this option. I have seen death real close and have been real close to death myself to know that it does not worry me. Death has no mystery for me and death is nothing more than what is envitable. It is bound to happen and there is no point in denying the obvious.

There is a darkness, which comes from the sheer futility; of an inflexibility to change. I was not so much thinking in terms of sucide as I was thinking of a life that remains unexamined and in the arrogance of its ignorance claims to be infalliable. I am disapppointment in the guardians of wisdom, whose wisdom is limited by their own hatred for all, which does not share their own insecurities. I am tired of playing a game, which has no end in sight and is simply played on for a lack of a viable alternative. I am tired of hating for the sake of hate. I am tired, because I refuse to hate and there is nothing for me to hate, which can sustain my anger and give a cause to my existence. I am disgusted by the morality, which preaches intolerance and I refuse to follow ethics, which are nothing more than legalized apartheid in many forms and manifestions. I refuse to hear a lie and pretend to have heard the truth and I refuse to pretend that nothing happens, when my eyes tell me otherwise. I refuse to remain silent, while evil weaves a symphony of wrong and pretend that I hear nothing.

More than anything else, I am simply disgusted by those, amongst us, who think they have a monoploy on morality and I am disgusted by those, who are so sure of their own worth, that they do not realize how hollow do their claims sound. I am disgusted not at life, but what life has become and is turning into - a disappointment. Life was not supposed to be a disappointment and then I have to reconcile this with the fact that no one is a failiure in life.

What am raving against? I am raving against the hypocrisy of life and all that which pretends to be otherwise.