My Effort to Write Yet Another Post
My posts are just a trail of all the pieces of insanity in me. I think that by putting these inane thoughts on paper I am purging them from my mind and I would be free from the afflictions. I have been thinking about writing something so that I can feel lighter but I can’t seem to. I can’t write but I have to write. It’s so fucking infuriating! I am unable to discern the differences between today and tomorrow. It feels like I am sitting in on Ferris wheel and life is just moving full circle day after day. Time is running out and my ride would end, but I still haven’t got a clue as to what to do when I get down.
I try to write hiding in my cubicle. It won’t come to much but I still try. I know that I achieve nothing but there is a sense of accomplishment that comes from writing even a page of my ruminations. It’s a testament to my brain not rotting away. I have become a cog in the machine, 5 days of work, 2 days of rest. Rinse and repeat.
The 5 days of work are over in a blink of an eye. I remember the train journey though. On the Mumbai trains I am pushed, I am pulled, shouted at. There is a cacophony of noises around me. This is the daily brush with reality, a curt reminder that I am still a part of this city. Evening’s only major chore is jogging where I try to clear my head and not think about the phone calls to make, jobs to search, food to cook and mails to send. This is the only time in my life where I am not multi-tasking. I have become a cereal-eater to lose weight (actually it is to make my life easier by not cooking). I spend my weekend with only three activities sleeping-eating-jogging.
When I watched Frances Ha, I thought about how clueless about her life was. I laughed at her. Now I feel like I am in my own Frances Ha hell. I am yet another Frances living in the city without much money or a sense of purpose. Everywhere I turn I feel like I am assaulted by a problem. I kept thinking that I am very world weary but it more rueful naiveté than anything else. As she says in the movie, I feel like giving in and saying: ‘I’m not a real person yet.’
I try to write hiding in my cubicle. It won’t come to much but I still try. I know that I achieve nothing but there is a sense of accomplishment that comes from writing even a page of my ruminations. It’s a testament to my brain not rotting away. I have become a cog in the machine, 5 days of work, 2 days of rest. Rinse and repeat.
The 5 days of work are over in a blink of an eye. I remember the train journey though. On the Mumbai trains I am pushed, I am pulled, shouted at. There is a cacophony of noises around me. This is the daily brush with reality, a curt reminder that I am still a part of this city. Evening’s only major chore is jogging where I try to clear my head and not think about the phone calls to make, jobs to search, food to cook and mails to send. This is the only time in my life where I am not multi-tasking. I have become a cereal-eater to lose weight (actually it is to make my life easier by not cooking). I spend my weekend with only three activities sleeping-eating-jogging.
When I watched Frances Ha, I thought about how clueless about her life was. I laughed at her. Now I feel like I am in my own Frances Ha hell. I am yet another Frances living in the city without much money or a sense of purpose. Everywhere I turn I feel like I am assaulted by a problem. I kept thinking that I am very world weary but it more rueful naiveté than anything else. As she says in the movie, I feel like giving in and saying: ‘I’m not a real person yet.’
Comments
And many many happy returns of the day!! Yet another year of complete disregard for age-appropriate developmental milestones ? :P
Yes, its another year gone by without nary a change. But I think I do need to make some changes this year :D
Yes, I did re-start the jogging habit. I am loving the sense of purpose it gives me in those few moments.