I can't live without the Internet

Really, it's true. They say the first step in solving a problem is to acknowledge it. I've come to terms with it, but I admit, I have no intention of solving it whatsoever.

If you don't already know, I moved out of my old apartment the day before. 15 years in that infernal place, and you'd at least expect me to miss it. But maybe the reason I don't is because I live right next to it. Yeah, the new apartment I moved into is in the same complex. It's in a different "block" as they call it, so I need to walk across the garden whenever I go back and forth. It made carrying all my stuff from one apartment to another considerably easier, so I can't complain.

The internet connection in the new apartment hasn't been applied for yet, so I spent more than a day in the dark abyss that is Offline. Before that, while I was still in the process of moving in and moving out, I'd just sit in my old apartment whenever I wanted to use the internet for a while. Because I'm a lazy little shit, I didn't like walking all the way across just for this, and now that all my stuff had already been moved, I found little point in going there at all. A day passed before I realized that I really really needed the kick that only one thing could deliver.

My desperate little brain just then had an epiphany. Somewhere in the dark crevasses in my memory of all the technical crap I unearthed in my spare time, I remembered something,
The 802.11 specifications allowed a minimum coverage of approximately 100 metres in a straight unobstructed line through air. 
(I didn't expect my memory to actually hold, but according to this Wikipedia article, I was close enough)

I didn't know how far my old apartment's balcony was from my new one's, but I knew that 100 metres was a lot. There was only one way to find out. I went back, found the furthest balcony and kept the router right on the ledge facing the rest of the complex. I propped it up on a couple of books so that even by accident, the router would fall inside the balcony, instead of five stories down. I had some long wires, so I managed to connect the router to the ADSL modem well inside the room. After making sure everything was working fine, I crossed my fingers and went back to my new apartment.

As it turns out, I live less than a WiFi range away. Obligatory celebration dance followed. With my 12th grade board examinations starting this Monday, this is obviously very bad news for my marks.
The connection keeps dropping on my phone unless I'm standing close enough to the balcony, and it's even more unstable in my room, but like I said, as long as I have the Internet, I'll survive.

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A Philosopher's Tale

This post is part of the "First Few Old Blog Posts" archive.
You could expect a certain lack of coherency/maturity from these posts.

Forgive me for being blatantly outright at the beginning but I must tell you that I believe I have endured more pain in my past than I would have thought possible. Pain that would leave scars which delude time ; memories that jump out of the blue to haunt what is left ; scrabbling to devour the last scraps of sanity left to feed the pain.
And what must one do then to go on?
Going on is a simple matter , don't mistake me. But what reply could you possibly have when you ask yourself "Why the fuck should you?"
Every action has a cause , every crime has a motive and at the end of the day , so does every life.

I wake up everyday not to the fresh morning air , but to the stark burden of reality. How many times I have found myself walking outside and realizing that it's really happening. I'm out there among everyone else. That this isn't some vivid dream or a thought turned into an image. Almost every step taken reminds me of a memory that I've long wanted to forget. But memories never do that , do they? At one point this crescendo of assaulting flashbacks traumatizes you so much that you push yourself to go sleep. Sleep ; where none of these evils can touch you. And then finally you realize that you've slept for almost the entire day. And every principle that you've built to utilize time productively has been thrown out of the window.

The key to my will propelling me forward is Philosophy. When you take away philosophy from me , is when I will find no difficulty in tying the noose again. But why philosophy? Because it is the only thing that adds a little meaning to a person's existence on earth. We buy coffee powder to make coffee. And that is the sole reason why coffee is powdered. If some power above is reserving us for a brew , I think we deserve the right to know whether it is tea or coffee.

What is the purpose of our existence?

I don't know. And that is why I cannot stop yet. I see my life as a race between this goal and death. The day someone cracks this final piece in the topology of understanding ourselves is when I will let myself guide my feet , instead of this desire. If I die before this happens then I will only find it sorry that my existence has come to an end without my knowledge consisting of why I ever existed in the first place. Why the universe bothered to instill life only to take it back without granting it this small gratification.

When you are such a philosopher , the meaning of every action changes. You don't see people walking in front of you anymore. What you see is countless unanswered questions instead. You question every event and every action until finally , you strip all meaning from the object itself and and you shrug , knowing that that cannot be correct , and so you start again , hoping to accommodate a better answer next time. And every theory thus formed gives you satisfaction as you inch one step further to reaching that last goal. The thought process of such a person is pitiful indeed. His sole motive being comprehension , he ends up questioning questions , theorizing on theories and searching to search. And even then , when he gets back up , you can clearly see the frustration on his face at having come nowhere close to the final piece.

He knows that he has been given life and whether he likes it or not , he must utilize this to the maximum by doing every act of good and standing by it. Take off your coat and give it someone in the cold. Is it so hard? Is it really so hard to oppose wrong and stand by it though it may compromise your position? He sees it as a duty , as a right when he was brought to life. But to what extent does his sense of judging what is right extend to? He knows this judgement is limited and so tries to expand it in every way possible by Philosophy. Do right , but first know what is right.

So what is Philosophy after all? What is this stupid thing that makes me live?
As Wikipedia says it , Philosophy is the study of general and fundamental problems, such as those connected with reality, existence, knowledge, values, reason, mind, and language. Problems approached by philosophy are done logically by applying reason , facts and evidence. Contrary to the stereotype that there can be infinite philosophies that can go against one and still appear rational , when two philosophies go against each other , one (or both) is usually wrong. Wordplay does not mask reason. By carefully approaching both philosophies , one (or both) can be ruled out. If not , then one (or both) is usually a fake philosophy

Fake philosophies are those which do not involve any form of logic , critical thinking , reason or some sort of relevant evidence in it's construction. I have the found the most reliable source of fake philosophies commonly as captions in Facebook profile pictures (those yolo swag fag types). You can't simply throw in some fancy words and expect your statement to be philosophically accurate. Again , a philosopher will always accept being proven wrong. He will be more interested in correcting his faulty statement rather than sadly brood over being wrong.

A problem that I face as a philosopher is that it is extremely hard to convert experiences into words. This problem is very common since most philosophies originate from certain experiences. We deliberately walk in the dark , trying to figure out why people are afraid of it. And then if we finally do strike upon some sort of meaning , we find it hard to convey this feeling of elation into words. Trying to see everything in a different light , that is our curse. You take a walk in the streets. Humans turn into storehouses of information. Buses turn into means for these piles of information to save energy and money. Money turn into  pieces of paper that has this strange power to get you what you need.

I envy those who do not need to understand more to move along in life. They say "who cares?" to every small question. It only fascinates me how they do so. I am not saying that such people are wrong , or ignorant or stupid. They are a different type of human. A type that will probably lead a more satisfied life. I call such people realists. They do not explore the intimidating limit of imagination. They don't like to guess as much as they like to prove. If only I had their mindset to console me , it would save me from this eternal frustration of trying to find answers all around.

It is indeed a trying state when you form theories about life every night before you sleep: hoping that life is an experiment in which some scientists threw you into a small virtual world with artificial robots all around pretending to be humans. Hoping that someday , a person will finally come up to you and say what enduring those days and nights finally meant.

I hope this post doesn't appear to be funny , strange or exaggerated because it wasn't written in such a mindset.

Quote : "Fuck you world , I'm alive"

EDIT : I was sorta depressed when I wrote this post. Do not judge me too harshly.
Also , thanks to Adithya for clearing out all the bazillion mistakes in my post. He's awesome.

What do you want from life?

This post is part of the "First Few Old Blog Posts" archive.
You could expect a certain lack of coherency/maturity from these posts.

Ok , first of all , as usual , an apology. I had two successive exams on and so I could not find the time to post a blog in two months ( Not like you care anyway ).

Pre-introductory warning : This particular blog post does not apply for nihilists and such other people who's only reason for not committing suicide yet is because it'll upset their parents.
Such people will be unable to reach an agreement between their views and the one that this post will offer due to the presence of such elements that assumes that you still have some motive left in life.

Now , before I can answer the very tantalizing question which I presented as the title , I need to introduce you to how I came about it.

I place a quality of a man by how much he has completed two processes of his life. The first process is what I call "knowing" , and the second process is "deciding".
It's like listening to two sides of a story (knowing) and then forming an opinion on which one you think is correct (deciding).
I am a teenager and thus consider myself in the learning stage. Meaning that I may not have decided for everything that I have known yet and reserve my decision for when I reach a higher form of understanding of that topic.
And so going on , the last thing that a person must do to end the process of  "deciding" is to philosophically define the word "life" . Which I hope to one day do so with a satisfactory conclusion.
So then I started to think about those questions that I can answer by myself. Stuff like "Why is life necessary?" and "What leads to belief?" , etc.
And that lead to the question in the title which put me into a long trail of thought.

But after around an hour of thinking , I came up with an answer which atleast applied to me and most other people.

A satisfied ego and a satisfied hunger for adventure.

The first bit is kinda obvious , but it is the last bit that will attract questions. Well , we're gonna discuss both anyway.

Now , the first thing that came into my mind when I thought of the question was this movie called Revolver.
Revolver is kinda my favorite movie and it also happens to be a movie which has influenced me a lot.
It happens to answer most of the question in the title and described in detail about how our ego supersedes us.

"A satisfied ego"

Come on , we all know this to be true. What don't we do everyday to make sure that we get what we want , to do what we want , to satisfy every whim that our ego puts forth?

To quote from Revolver :
"There is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will deny even exists until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reason you get up in the morning, the only reason you suffer the shitty boss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. "Fear or revere me, but please think I'm special." We share an addiction. We're approval junkies. We're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. The "hip, hip, hoo-fucking-rah." Look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on, you crazy diamond. Cos we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others. "

The sad part in the whole thing is when you understand that you cannot destroy your ego. Because it is your ego itself that says that it must destroy ego. You just think that it's you trying to do it.

"The greatest con, that your ego ever pulled... was making you believe... that he is you. "

Well that's for the ego part.

"A satisfied hunger for adventure"

Ah , this bit is interesting. In fact , it might even be a part of the previous statement. But it stands out like a sore thumb , so I decided to add this in the statement anyway.

"I'm happy with my quiet life." - Said almost everyone.
But how many people actually meant it?

Every time you get up from a movie , every time you finish that video game , every time you finish reading that novel , you sigh. You sigh because you have to return back to your boring miserable life. What would you give to be Sam Witwicky? What would you give to be Altair Ibn-La Ahad? What would you give to be Sherlock Holmes?
Everything.
If only it was possible.
You may not want to all so much , but admit it. You know the feel when you want to be part of it. Part of the drama. Part of the action. When you want to be the character that does it all.

How many times have you sat at work/school bored , and dreamt of how a bunch of terrorists randomly burst into the place and you saved everyone there? Admit it. You've done it.
And why did you do it?
Hmm , you can pretty much answer that yourself.

And you can always spot those who want adventure really bad. These sort of people may seem quiet at first glance. But you can always tell them apart by how they easily turn a really small issue into a huge thing.
They easily respond to emotions and you can easily make them very happy or very sad.
It's just that these sort of people are the ones who've accepted that they're never gonna get the adventure of their life. So instead , they turn whatever of the boring life they have , into as much drama as possible.

I remember this one girl in my class some years ago who used to cry at every small thing. At first I suspected that she had some problems to face back home. But then one day , I read her English essay on "My Thoughts Last Night". And My God , was I shocked! She'd written stories of gore and blood and war and murder and what not. Soon enough , her condition became apparent to me.


So there ya go. I've justified my answer. But I do not claim it to be correct. In fact , every person may have a different answer to what they want from life. And every answer may seem as convincing as the next.

If you have your own answer to this question , write it in the comments below. Also don't forget to mention anything that you may think that I've written wrong in this blog. Please do point out any errors you can find.

Catcha laterz. I got more exams coming up.

Quote : "In every game and con there's always an opponent, and there's always a victim. The trick is to know when you're the latter, so you can become the former. " ~ Revolver