I realize that I have not written in almost a month. And I can almost not form coherent sentences already. I have even started finding it hard to finish se. And as far as proper, to the point sentences and understandable, well knit ideas are concerned - ideas which require neither grammatical dexterity and verbal calisthenics nor lexical acrobatics and circuitous prolixity but merely an honest to goodness intent to communicate, or in simpler words, a desire to put across, in a manner which is ideally not verbose and certainly not circumlocutory because all it serves to do is cloud up the essential point, to the other person, what one's ... well, I think I lost my chain of thought there. And yes I remember now, I have started meandering a lot, like a boat whose anchor has been cut and it drifts with the wild wild waves with their white frothy embrace over the cold surface of a bottomless ocean in whose depths are engulfed half formed ideas and vague sentences and in whose darkness lurk a million traps ready to snap and decapitate a thought whose coherence was in the preliminary stages of formation despite the complete lack of moorings which I am afraid you, the reader, might be experiencing right about now. Such disorientation on the part of the writer, I suppose, is an inevitable precipitate of a solution whose predominant component is logical, scientific inquiry. In the absence of absolute certainties and in a world of shades of gray, a logical mind can do nothing but disintegrate into absurdity. And English, that most unfaithful of mistresses, with a flick of hair and a disapproving look, makes a move and renders me ... I forget the word.
I really really need to read something non scientific.