I hate this blank white page. I hate it from the bottom of my heart. Its stare enters the very core of my silly heart and hurts badly. I’m under no compulsion here; I am just brutally forced, propelled, driven by my mad desiring conscious to come up with these words of hatred. It is quite unusual of me to actually slur and make a blog out of it, but tonight I’ve got to make this exception.
Let me present my case with a clear premise that would surmise in a trice the price of being a novice. DO NOT be deceived by the imperceptible guile this whiteness conceals in its hindquarters. The lure to declare fairness and purity on first glance is understandable, but let me warn you, there is an episode of travesty awaiting your unfortunate fate once you decide to do so.
I do foresee a time when this article could be judged as to not worth the paper it is written on, but that is the kind of fate this writer has constantly known his writings belong to anyway. And that’s also the reason why I decided to spurt my vicious black poison all over this white masquerade. My fingers know not the pain I make them undergo now as I type this passage in pure frenzy with no regard to spelling or grammar auto correct! This exercise is in search of that blissful peace that awaits me once I post this blog (That is so cheap. Speaks meanly about one’s character. No one can be so desperate. There are better things to write about. The whole world is in a war right now. I know. Two words. Shut. Up.)
All this anger actually stemmed elsewhere and has carried itself forward to my writing desk. It began in the morning when I forgot my e-banking password. It’s as simple as that. But it didn’t end there. I had to reset it about a week ago and in the mean time I had created logins to four new social networking sites, each with its own unique login name and password. And I would have dreamed another hundred passwords in the past few days. In this entire melee for uniqueness, my e-banking suffered a setback, that too in a moment of personal emergency. Now it was time to reset it.
In an age of rampant identity theft where even shadows need to be checked once in a while for ownership, the option of using a familiar password is ruled out. I am extra cautious about these sorts of things. This is something you need to know about me. Now I needed a new password. Lords of creativity helped me figure out one. I enter it. Judgment was passed as I typed. It was weak. Combinations of lower and UPPER cases needed to be conjured. Trickery was performed in a matter of seconds. Judgment was passed. It was good. I’d jumped a step above. But I can’t be just good. I needed to be exceptional. Tension soared. There is a clock ticking and this page would expire soon. Think! Think! A few numbers needed to be introduced. Done. 9 and 0 selected among the number system. Now what? Judgment was passed. It was ok. It was a ‘what the hell’ moment. Special characters were needed now. That was the missing link. Once that was done, my connection would be secure like that of a Na’vi’s pigtail to his monstrous flying predator. But there are restrictions in this game. No exclamations, no brackets. Oh all right. I chose one. Judgment was passed. It was strong. Finally! I did it! I now belonged to that exquisite league of the geeks who could pride themselves with superior skills of password fabrication. I now belonged to the league of those extraordinary gentlemen. By evening, I forgot what I’d entered in the morning.
Now, I’ll request for a password reset again and the e-mail with the link that would take me all over its burrows for another tour of intellectual squabble would arrive with the stamp of my epic failure exquisitely pasted all over it. This time I’d choose a weak one. Maybe my name, yes, that’d do. It’s all right. No more of these vainglorious attempts to attain empty vanity. I am absolved of mediocrity now. Please go ahead and do whatever you were doing. I feel much better now. Thank you.