*20-10-2025*

heyya, y'all..!!
so, today’s diwali.. the festival that’s supposed to symbolize hope, victory, joy, and whatever allat bright and warm kind of shit. everyone’s out there lighting diyas, bursting crackers, laughing and having fun i guess. and i’m here, staring into nothing, spiraling again into my own head.

could be weird, i mean- how a day meant for celebration can feel so hollow. the sound of fireworks outside feels like background noise to a movie im not part of. i don’t feel like lighting diyas, or bursting firecrackers or stepping outside anymore(yet again); i dont even have the energy to pretend it's "a special day".
when i saw an unlit diya, and then i caught myself thinking it looked more beautiful that way.. quiet, still, untouched by fire. and then another thought came in:- "if it was lit up, eventually it would just vanquish. why not now?"

there’s this strange heaviness that doesn’t have one clear source. it’s everything all at once.. small disappointments that pile up until they feel cosmic. like, i wanted to get a camcorder, just smth to capture fragments of life in my own way. but the one i managed to get doesn’t fully work. buying from ebay means dealing with customs, id verification, delayed shipping, and taxes that make everything feel impossible. and WHAT IF it gets lost during transit, or gets damaged?

then i thought, maybe i will start growing my CDs or vinyls collection.. smth tangible, smth that feels like art you can hold. but then, a $1 CD(with scratches and broken jewel case) costs $20 just to ship, and that's before customs and taxes. it's such a dumbarse cycle. everything i want to hold close comes wrapped in frustration and bureaucracy.

and maybe that’s what’s exhausting me.. the constant resistance from the world, as if everything i want is either too expensive, too far, or too delayed. i even thought about smoking zaza again, not because i’m addicted(since i've only only smoked two times with a year gap) or anything, but because i wanted to loosen up, quiet the noise for a while. but that didn’t happen either, that mf hasn't provided me the thing for almost a month now. and now it’s like my brain is doing its usual dance.. whispering things like, “you’re worthless” “you don’t matter” “you’ll never really belong anywhere".

i keep trying to argue back, saying, “no, i just wanna rest, maybe?” but i guess it’s hard to tell the difference between rest and giving up sometimes.

the world feels mechanical.
welcome my son, welcome to the machine(pink floyd ahh reference)
that's what this cornball arse all mighty, all loving omnipotent non-existent "gawd" whispers while spawning four new souls into this hyper capitalistic, blood soaked world every second.
every day i wake up to this invisible demand to “perform”, to “be productive”, to “become smth.”
but the more i look at what that actually means.. endless competition, long hours, taxes that fund the bourgeoisie, and an economy built on exploitation.. the less i want to play along. if living under capitalism means becoming a machine, maybe it’s okay that i don’t want to function properly. maybe the refusal to be efficient is its own quiet rebellion.

still, there’s guilt. because not participating feels like failing. and participating feels like selling your soul.

i keep thinking about the future, and all i can see is saturation.. of content, of art, of voices, of expectations. everything already exists, and yet, it feels like nothing does. what’s left to add? what can i possibly contribute to this overproduced, overanalyzed, overcapitalized world? even the art i love.. the music, the films, the words.. they're all trapped in algorithms and paycheck now. everything feels filtered and automated, even creativity.

and the worst part is, i love art. it’s probably one of the only things keeping me here. but the thought that i might not have time to truly experience it one day.. that i will be stuck working, surviving, trading hours for kapital just to exist.. it’s terrifying for me.

i’ve always dreamed of moving out of india someday, maybe to europe or the U.S., where art feels closer(even if it is just 'abit'), where i could just live without paying triple the price for a piece of inspiration. but then again, to get there, i would have to grind myself into dust, become the very robot i fear turning into.

and yea, there’s this other part.. i promised myself i would become an IITian. it sounds noble, right? like this big goal to chase. but how does someone who barely study all his life suddenly turn into a machine built to solve problems all day? ik, i would have to work harder than ever, and still, some voice inside asks, “but why?” why chase smth that feels detached from who i am? why force myself into a mold that i didn’t even design?

sometimes it just hits me that every breath I take feels like feeding a system that doesn’t care if i and millions of people exist. this system doesnt just ignore the existence of the millions suffering.. it requires that suffering to survive. it thrives on scarcity, it monetizes desperation, it engineers inequality so that the gears stay oiled with human time and labour, blood, and compromise. when i breathe, i am not inhaling air.. i'm confirming my place within a violently imposed economic order that would sooner see me broken than free. and what’s worse is, i'm complicit.. because there's no exit, no ethical way to "not participate". even my refusal is commodified

paying 70% customs and tax for smth under $200.. money that will never circle back to me, but will fund some politician’s child’s education abroad. it’s enraging, but it’s also helplessness disguised as anger.

maybe that’s what growing up has been.. realizing that ignorance was its own kind of peace. when i was younger, maybe leaning right wing made me comfortable because i didn’t see the suffering behind the system. now, after reading leftist writers and thinkers, being in forums and getting more nuanced, after peeling back those layers, everything feels heavier. knowledge didn’t free me.. it just made the cage more visible.

and maybe i don’t want to end myself.. i just don’t want to be part of this. i want to be free from the version of life thats dictated by profit margins and expectations. i want to exist in a world where joy isnt taxed, where curiosity isnt expensive, and where art isnt just another industry.

but idk if that world ever existed or can exist.

still, i will eat smth. i will listen to some records. maybe watch the diyas flicker from my window. maybe they will remind me that light doesn’t have to mean fireworks and celebration.. sometimes it’s just a quiet flame fighting the dark, even if it’s tired.
i played dark souls this year and it was one of those work of art that gave me some hope, but seems like i'm once again getting consumed by the abyss.

and yea, maybe i don’t have strong incentives to end myself. maybe I just want to rest from the noise.. from capitalism, from expectations, from my own brain. and, maybe that’s enough for tonight.

ik, there are alot of other major things i struggle with, and whenever i try to sedate/numb the pain it usually backfires me..

happy diwali, i guess.
even if it doesn’t feel much like one.