the need to prove

back here again for a quick piece of action. been scribbling a lot down of late. so much to write, so much to post here. i wrote about ramu on pfc today, let's see if it gets published. anyway, i was talking to kruthi earlier and one of my deepest questions came to the fore. why do all of us have a need to prove? maybe to ourselves, maybe to others; though the latter is awfully worse than the former. but still, life ain't no theorem to be proving. that is, once you've come down to the last step, you write hence, proved and you've earned your right to glory, like checkmating. all that comes into play when we look at life long-term. all of us dream of marriage, old age, retirement and the rest but is it all worth it? about 4 years ago, somebody thought they'd live with me forever, now i've proved them otherwise(ofcourse galthi meri thi). 3 years ago, the worst thing that could've happened to me was flunking, now i laugh at the prospect of it. life's far too fast, far too fleeting, far too messy, a function of a magnanimous(though that depends on you) number of variables f(N), and what fucking eccentricity would have us stop living and etch out a plan for ourselves. i'm reading GEB and so let me put it this way, when you're living in this system called life, you'll have to go with the flow. you cannot go out of the system. funnily enough, when you try to and you think you're outside the system, that's still looking at the smaller system from within the larger system. to be deciding and trying to stick to something just because you've decided earlier that that's what you're going to do later. i read somewhere today, can't remember where, that the yesterday you isn't the you now. when you're changing everyday, every moment, and what seems so right this moment might not appear the next, what's the whole prospect of planning. of setting goals, achieving them and proving to somebody that this somebody who once was, has become somebody else. thinking now, as i write, all that seems like searching in vain for one constant point, like clinging onto a mirage with the hope that it'd turn into an oasis one day. life's not a program where you write code, compile it, execute and see the results. all life, you're still writing the program, and you don't have a backspace in the hypothetical version of the concept of the linearity of time. all you can do is write the best code you can. the uparwala will execute it when you sit next to him. think about it.