The end of 2013.


I doze in buses. I cancelled two trips back home and take hours to reply messages instead of the initial minutes. Some of my relationships have been affected due to my cold distance while others have become more intimate due to certain circumstances. I have been replying more e-mails, eating at irregular times and sleeping far less than I had hope is sufficient. I work seven days a week, sometimes up to 12 hours a day. Engagement with friends have to be notified a week earlier, my social life is getting more restricted and perhaps, my almost (why don’t you clarify that with me?) non-existent dating life is now limited to textual forms. My parents keep asking me to carve out some time to exercise – this is the only way to keep my body healthy, after all.

You must be appalled by now.

It is not surprising though. I have expected this for a very long time. Which is why I was so reluctant to begin working initially – I played for six months with minimal income and live in fear, oscillating between that irrational emotion of not getting a job and the revulsion of getting one. Some of you would understand that feeling, some of you would come to understand that feeling. Apparently, it is normal to hate your job. But, what if i tell you a secret? What if I announce to the world that I actually do like my job – that I revel in it most days, while on others, I am bogged down by a mental and physical exhaustion due to my selfish desires to do more, achieve more because I am challenged innately by my inborn inadequacy – I need to be a better version of myself each passing day. Stagnancy is alright only if it doesn’t concern me.

Even as I type this now, two other word Documents are opened with half written articles. I am not joking when I tell my friends I multitask (not when it comes to conversations though). My thoughts alternate very quickly. I jump from one topic at hand to another. I have this desperate need which manifests clearly in my need to read three books at a time because my concentration span just isn’t long enough. When Mr Bestie asks me why do I not remember lyrics of songs, I told him that the only reason I listen to pop songs (my loyalty is with vocal-less songs you see – movie soundtracks, hymns, instrumentals, house, etc) is because they help me tune the voices out and focus entirely on the task at hand. He was speechless.

I asked him the other day, “Do you know me?”. His typical honest answer was, “I thought I did but not anymore”. It used to frustrate me, this answer of his. I couldn’t comprehend how he fails to know me when we have been close friends for five years. He says I vacillate too much. That I can morph from a to b to abcbbdcaabbcdba at a given time while other people usually transition from a to b to c to d. He thinks my biggest problem is my indecisiveness, uncertainties (i want what i want when i want it which means most of the time, i don’t know what i want), expectations and tendencies to go against everything. I laugh out loud. Coming from someone who says he doesn’t know me, he seems to know a whole lot. Well.

Perhaps one day I will untangle all this. But as of now, I shall work in my mess. And I apologise in advance to my dear friends and family who are and will be affected by last minute dropouts and hiatus from the world.

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