Oh Humanity, I weep for thee.

I simply cherish my hiatus periods. They serve me stories, facts and expressions of human nature that no film can truly bring out. This reminds me of the analogy I made with a couple of friends (yes, I still consider you friends) about how our life was one big movie and how we are merely actors. Yes, it is derived from the whole stage-actors statement of one of Shakespeare's plays. As time has progressed, I haven't forgotten about this idea and things get more and more analogous to the same.

Let's make an attempt to write a scene for this movie.

Commons. 

Second bedroom on the left, Apt #232. 9:30 am.

A boy trapped in a man's body sits on his bed, things cluttered around him. He remembers the phrase. 'A cluttered desk is a cluttered mind'.

"Fuck."

He mouths the word filling the air around him with the stale breath of yesterday's chicken teriyaki. It reminds him of the night and all what it brought with it.

Flashback: Last Night, 11:30 pm.

He stepped out of his room to see the apartment filled with familiar faces. Faces that once surrounded him, faces that used to to bring a smile on his face. They still do, however the smile is strained and almost forced. He goes on about his business and retires back to his room, listening to the chatter of the company he never had.

Back to present day.

He steps out to walk to the same way he walked yesterday, with the scene different, yet seemingly familiar. He recounts the flashes of memory from yesterday, sighs with a heavy heart, and pours himself a bowl of cereal. He looks around to see himself surrounded by the spoils of yesterday despairingly and straightens on the pillows to make himself some room to enjoy his daily bowl of breakfast. He could hear the others sleep; he doesn't listen for the heavy breaths, they just creep into his ears swaying the hair of his ears. Like a programmed robot, he finishes his cereal in a flash and proceeds to wash the remains of this meal when he hears some soft footsteps on the rugged carpet of the apartment. The last piece of the morning's jigsaw. The day in the apartment had begun.

Living room, Apt#232, 2 pm.

The rustle and bustle of the day had begun. The other three were in the living room working on matters that seemed alien to him. He proceeded nonchalantly to attend to matters of his own when he hears the words come out of the bespectacled gentleman. The words themselves were nothing novel, though the tone seemed to be full of spite and envy for those who weren't present in the room.

"Interesting."

There was a moment of exhilaration followed by constant moments of melancholy. It had surprised him when he had heard the syllables come out of the person's mouth. It wasn't the words per say, but it was the audience they were spoken to with the decible levels of outright despise. This was an everyday activity, bashing on people not present. He was used to hearing tidbits every now and then, but they had become a regular topic of discussion. The other two weren't really interested and replied with muffled laughs just to end the flow of conversation. It wasn't to be. He leaves the room, befuddled about the events he had witnessed. He tries to ponder over the statements delivered, questioning the strengths of the bonds relationships hold and what they mean to people.

Monologue

"Are we just tools for people around us, or are we much more? Is our worth limited to our utility or is it defined otherwise? Have the evils of the society made us the way we are or is it based on the environment we are striving in? Who are the real victims? Those who are spoken about or those who speak it? How is one able to have a two face personality and use it interchangeably second after second? How can such a person live with himself? Questions and no answers."

Second bedroom on the left, Apt #232. 9:30 pm.

A wave of memories suddenly crash into his mind. He witnesses the events that perspired once come to life again. He sees the heroics of that one day which made the circle ever so complete. The scene changes, and is now a rush of images of the good times he had in the apartment, the little gestures that bought a smile to those who were on the receiving end, the promises of longevity that was never to be, the idea that this wasn't your regular period of existence and that it was much more of than that. The series of images continue chronologically, now hazy and difficult to interpret. Does the mind have two versions of it? Or is the picture distorted by emotions?

Monologue II

"Where did it go all wrong? How did things get so blatantly miserable? How, after all this time, was it so different over a short span? Was it something he had done? Surely not! Are things not what they seem? Were the signals misread? Did the egoistical part of my mind perceive it differently, or did it make the same things become different? Was it too late, or is this the end towards a new beginning? Are the ruins of this a foundation for a new building, or do I get to fix it one more time?"

This is sort of an idea I had for a screenplay. Mostly based on emotions and thoughts. Constructive criticism is appreciated.


Also New York was fun, I'll share a few of the photos here as well.

Excelsior.

There are days that make you smile and then there are days that seem to offer nothing out of the ordinary.
There are moments that make you feel alive and there are moments that make you question your purpose in life.
There are seconds that pass without a moment's notice and there are seconds that might alter the course of your life.

Every person in the world goes through these periods and only some are able to recognize the dire importance of each of them. Those who are unaware do not necessarily miss out on anything, however, they fail to realize the importance of of the little things that matter. And those who, in fact, do the contrary allow themselves to enter a realm of possibilities wherein making the 'right' decision is harder than Hercules' seven labors.

This is what I, as an individual, am going through. I seem to have realized the little, not petty, things that happen to surround me and take them into perspectives that were unavailable to my cognitive mind a little while ago. It has served me duel purposes:
1) It has helped me explore the minds of those around me and to exaggerate, the minds of human kind in general. It has helped me decipher how individuals in this rat-race world go on to act as they act, speak what they speak and do what they do.

2) It has also molded my opinion of the same exact people which is quite in contrast to what I thought it was. And to make it crystal clear, contrary is not always a negative term. I might not be a Psych major or anything, but I love to observe the world as a part of a huge, still not defined, experiment in my head.

Excelsior, which literally means upward or onward, has been re-introduced in my mind by the highly acclaimed movie Silver Linings Playbook. I read the term first when I used to spend my time reading extensively about Marvel Comics, particularly about Stan Lee. As in the movie, the word always gives me a positive vibe and a rush of adrenaline when I read/hear it. I try to inculcate this positiveness in my life as being positive comes only second to helping those around you in one's life. This is the first life lesson I had from my mother. To see the 'silver lining' in the darkness that surrounds you gives you the sheer determination to walk through it towards a golden sky (LFC reference).
Sidebar: The positive terms are always shiny.

Everything one faces makes one door close and a makes another one open as if there is a relay system attached. There is a relay system, it is you. To go onward towards the open door is the force one needs to put in to make the relay to move. The causal effect of the force is the encouragement, the disappointment and  and the will to strive forward.

Sidebar: The Physics checks out.

This is the story of my weekend.
Excelsior!