That Sinking Feeling...

There come times in life, and I sincerely hope and pray that it is not only my life in which they so unceremoniously turn up, when an invisible limit is surpassed. When the amount of chaos around reaches a critical level. When a bar is reached, beyond which life gets messy enough to abandon all hope of deliverance. In actuality, it is an inconsequential moment, because by the time you realize that you're pretty much buggered and abandoning all hope of deliverance is the only rational thing left to do, it's already been a while since things had first gone wrong beyond repair. Psychologically, however, it is a brilliant moment, when you are suddenly made aware of the fact that you are not going to make your way out of this one by putting up a brave face and telling yourself that everything will work out fine in the end. It is a moment of clarity, when you suddenly know you've stepped off the edge; the cartoon moment when gravity waits for the coyote to realize his mistake before the plunge.
I am due to reach that moment any minute now. Which will allow me just about enough time to complete this blog post. That done, I shall run around the house naked shouting half-veiled expletives to express my extreme distaste for life.

My life is in ruins. My friends have begun avoiding me, for I take them for granted, and they resent that, and they're also slightly wary of the constant under-the-breath muttering and sly looks. My family thinks I am crazy since they last saw me running around the house naked. My minor tests were either missed by me on account of my debating (which also, I must add, continues to remain woefully substandard), or were unmitigated disasters, and my courses this semester invoke in me about the same feelings a dead rat would, only slightly worse. My B.Tech. Project has run into a dead-end that is so dead it could give an entire cemetery an inferiority complex, and my degree is very probably going to take me an entire extra year to complete. To top it all, I haven't slept properly in weeks, and everything is tinted green and sort of swimming around, like in an algae-infested pool. Also, sudden noises cause my eyes to fly out, my heart to get entangled in my front teeth, and a complete loss of control over my knees. Sleep, and therefore any hope of recovery, remains currently a non-viable course of action, because if I sleep for even a bit or otherwise waste any time whatsoever, I cannot possibly meet the deadlines for the work that I have promised to the multitudes of people I know, much of which is menial and inconsequential, and many of whom are presently actively involved in avoiding me.

Which is why I revert to this blog. I have no time, no plan of action in mind, and no chance of success. It's like the old days again. Except slightly bleaker.
And while writing about it here won't help things in any way at all, at least the crash, when it comes, will be well-chronicled.