welcome to my home... won't you come on in?

the edge of reason isn't sharp, or even well-defined, really.
it's a blurred grey mess. and one totters through it, unaware of the dark abyss that lurks right beyond.

and to make matters worse, there is this fog of perpetual irritability, where certain words of certain people always sound like jibes... like being poked and prodded, till ultimately, one finds oneself at the edge of that edge of reason.

i've built myself a nice little den, here, at the edge of reason. i'm quite comfortable, even accustomed to the view. till someone does, or more likely, says something remarkably asinine. then it's like the wolf trying to pooh-pooh my little den down. of course, not that the wolf has any intention of causing physical damage. or that the wolf is aware of its intentions.

i didn't choose to live here. just as the wolf doesn't choose to effect in disaster in my neighbourhood. it's just an unfortunate turn of events, so no one is to be blamed.

except each other.

of assholes, opinions, and truth..

who is that guy (pardon the gender type)?

the one we collectively loath and deride in equal measure, for being so "full of himself".
he's the winner, the leader, the one who is perpetually setting the precedent. and he knows exactly where he stands. top of the heap. though we do not admit it, we know he has every right to be "full of himself".

and secretly, we wonder if that's what we're aspiring to be. if that's what it takes to be "da man" (again, pardon the gender type) in life today. shuddering, we brush that thought aside, thanking our stars that, while we may not have seen success spelt out yet, atleast we're not loathed and derided by all.

but what about that guy? does he rationalise his unpopularity on the assumption of mass jealousy, or of "the inability of people to accept those ahead of their time"? or does he simply not notice?

because there are things about myself, for instance, that i never notice. they're quite insignificant and completely irrelevant in my opinion, but i guess they might stick out like a sore thumb for others. maybe i am truly loathed and derided by all. and completely oblivious of it.

isn't it unfortunate then, that we write off these generally unpopular people, while at the same time, we continue to be written off ourselves?

isn't it unfortunate, that as we get older, and apparently wiser, our opinions get more and more rigid, when all forces of logic point towards a single, inalienable truth? - there isn't any. truth.