Do I have one original thought in my head? Maybe if I were happier, my hair wouldn't be falling out. Life is short. I need to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. (Ref: Heli Shah)

I'm a walking cliche. The mentor called again. I'm lagging behind in my submissions. If I stopped putting things off, I'd be happier. All I do, is sit on my fat ass. Surf. Facebook. Twitter. Blog. If my ass wasn't fat, I'd be happier. I wouldn't have to wear a shirt over a Tee just trying to hid my paunch all the time. As if that is fooling anyone. Fat Ass. Maybe I should start working out again. Start with 30 minutes a day. Then improve. Really do it this time. Maybe Jogging. Sakshi will support me on this. 4 kms a day.

I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more, improve myself. What if I learn German or something? Or I could pick up learning guitar again. I'd be the German speaking, guitar playing engineer turned MBA graduate. That would be cool. Maybe I should cut my hair short. Stop trying to fool everyone that I have a full head of hair. How pathetic is that? Just be real. Confident. Isn't that what women are attracted to? Men don't have to be attractive. But that's not true. In today's world, there's almost as much pressure on men as there is on women these days. Why should I be made to feel I have to apologize for my existence? Maybe its my brain chemistry. Maybe that's whats wrong with me. Bad chemistry. All my problems and anxiety can be reduced to a chemical imbalance or some kind of misfiring synapses in my head. But I'm still gonna need help. But I'll still be ugly, though. Nothing's gonna change that.

My latest Obsession.

People seem to be getting dumber and dumber. I mean, look at us. We have all this amazing technology and yet computers have turned into basically four figure wank machines. The internet was supposed to set us free, democratize us, but all it's really given us is Haiti earthquake pictures and 24 hour a day access to kiddie porn. People don't write anymore, they blog. Instead of talking, they text, no punctuation, no grammar: LOL this and LMFAO that. And it just seems to me that it's just a bunch of stupid people pseudo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people at a proto-language that resembles more what cavemen used to speak than the English we learned in school.

Yet, I'm a part of the problem, blogging with the best and the worst and ignored ones among them. Here I am, at the edge of the world - the very edge of western civilization with all of us desperate to feel something... anything... that we keep falling into each other and fucking things up for ourselves till the end of days.

A Perfect example of self-loathing.

Shwetak farts. Exits.

Here are some sample situations when people turn to me.

• When they've had a bad break-up and need help getting over it, they run to me - and after listening to my tales of woe, feel that theirs is not so bad after all.
• When no one else's around and they want someone to kill time with, they think I'm always there. What's more, they're right. I've no better work to do, and I don't value time.
• When they're feeling down and out and totally abandoned by friends and family alike, they know exactly who to turn to.
• When they've got some work that needs to be done which will involve payment if it is outsourced, they come to me and get it done for free.
• When they are short of ideas but are in desperate need to please their mentors/professors/seniors/superiors, they borrow some of mine and claim it as their own.
  

At all other times, be it when they have plans with friends or happen to get into a relationship or get involved in some significant project, I don't exist for the very same people. Jiska koi nahi hota, uska bhagwan hota hai. And for those missing out on the love of God by choice or otherwise, there's always alcohol.

Now excuse me while I drowse myself in self-pity. And please hope that I drown.