proxied.

I fled the lecture hall today, the minute lesson ended. It was a swift journey home, and I reach the doorstep just before the first drops of rain started its fall. All in good time, as if pre-planned.

I looked at my room, stark yet messy, perhaps a good reflection of the owner. With my laptop on my knees, curled up on my bed, I reflect as I peered at neighbours swimming in the pool....

I have been out of sorts of late. Granted, I was never known for my dependant moods or straitlaced nature, but never had I been so... abnormal. Eccentric and unpredictable, yes, but when you are consistently so it becomes normalcy, no? Of late, I seemed to have changed... somewhat.
I do things I never thought of doing before. I entertain thoughts previously scorned. My priorities became skewed, my social circles took a change. I look through my life, as if through a pair of telescope - blind to the immediate past or future, always looking way back or way ahead. Perception distorted, I make weird decisions. Why? What's wrong with me?

It is as if someone else is living my life for me, and I watch it unfold as a principal. Some strange proxy was assigned my life to live, and I stay at the side collecting returns. Who decided for me? Who got me into the mess? Was it me? OR was it the imagined me? I seemed to be possessed by myself. Did my mental partitioning fail, resulting in some mental collision? I rode on the tides of change with nary a notion of where I am bound. I can only pray whereever it is, it is not a corpse that would be found...

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. The all-seeing eye is working overtime.
Was it too much beauty that drove the eye, or was it the beholder's percept that caused beauty abound?
Circular reasoning, indefinite concept. Post-modernist sentiments trapped in a realist argument.