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Archive for September, 2017

Yeah, No.

What I feel is – Not joy. The absence of happiness. Am I lonely? Am I Depressed?

I always maintained I did not care about money. Do I still? Can I still maintain that? And yet I left a perfectly cozy job – one that had crazy timings, minimum two weekends on the job in a month, shit pay, and unspoken, alluded-to future benefits but satisfaction of a job well done and the ability to speak your mind – for one that is almost the exact opposite. I became a whore – for the money. Paisa phek tamasha dekh. Now that I’ve got it do I feel any better? No. Is my life more comfortable? Not really. Do I have a bigger bank balance and savings? Yes. Shouldn’t that make me happy? I don’t know.

Im no longer a child, and yet I refuse to accept it. Even when I’ve got one of my own.

What am I? I’ve never introspected. I’ve done everything the wrong way around my entire life. Acted too old in childhood, too mature in teenage and now I behave like A child. Did this when I should have done that. And the other way round. Sometimes for years and years.

Joy. Sometime. Please let me feel some joy. Any joy.

Let me not welcome work in the middle of a party so I don’t have to make a pretence of dancing. Or speaking to other people.

I was a flirt who respected women too much when I should have been horny. And now that it’s time to pack it in I’m horny.

I cannot dance freely. I’ve bound myself so much that I’ve locked myself and thrown away the key. I cannot remember the last time I had a decent, witty, interesting conversation with a beautiful girl. I don’t even know how to talk anymore.

Confused confused confused.

What are my priorities? Do I even have any?

A role model? More like a scale model of a human being. The dimensions are ok, and expanding, but something’s off.

Is it too early for a mid life crisis? Or too late? Who knows?

I never know. Anything. I’m never sure. It’s a consequence of knowing that you can’t know everything.

And yet, obliviously confident people thrive. Not an iota of self-doubt.

My ability to hide is diminishing.

And the shittiest part is that I’m not actually lacking for anything. Everything’s fine. It really is. It’s just not joyful.

Only his smile gives me joy. That’s my one and only source of happiness. I treasure each one because nothing else gives me what that does.

I want to be strong for him. Please let me be.

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