No sense.

I’ve always been afraid of writing a full open, honest draft about myself. Why is it though? Am I writing for someone else, wanting someone to appreciate my complicated thought structures, appreciate the hilarity that is my life?  What my conscious self tells me is that I am an ordinary individual living an ordinary life, being a cog in the spinning wheel of the world. But it contradicts with my belief of being the most important person I know, and this battle has raged on since being an adult.

It is a rather ominous feeling, when you realize that you’re not invincible. When you see old people in their miserable state while you enjoy the bliss of youth, it passes by fast. The passions of the body wane everyone says. You don’t care. Why would you? But being the prescient being I am, complemented by the knee surgery I underwent and as a result feel shaking joints, that invincibility is all but shattered.

For long I’ve maintained a nihilistic view of existence. People say that I am too idle, since I have no job and spend my time thinking unpleasant thoughts. But do ignoring these thoughts and getting busy is the right approach? I see my grandparents fighting with such philosophies in the sunset years of their life, but at least they have their religion to fall to. Maybe I should be religious? Why deny the comforts of believing in one? I should be selfish. Would ease my stress definitely. Put everything on god. People won’t call me crazy either.

I’ve stopped dreaming. Not dreaming,dreaming, those are out my control and don’t make much sense either. But stopped dreaming of what I should be, what I can be. I do the things I love to do. I am not doing anything that I don’t want to do. Then why am I still unhappy. I don’t understand this aspect of humanity. We always indulge in what we feel like doing. We eat good food, listen to good music. We don’t do anything which would derive us unhappiness, yet we are unfulfilled. We resort to spending money or changing jobs or go on vacations. Being in a happy state of mind and having a long term satisfaction of life are two different things I guess.

On terms of talking about sexuality and relationships, I used to be rather uncomfortable talking openly or even thinking openly about those aspects of my life. It’s my fault though that I lacked certain maturity to be really open about things like fucking and love. Maybe it’s because of the environment I have grown up in. Anyway, at this point of my life, I can say this at least, I want someone. I am a person who is a man child and whose thought process isn’t very stable. That pillar of support I need from someone who is understanding, and instils stability and care for me. Is this a substitute of the role my mother carried out? Is this why I only respond positively to outspoken extrovert women, because I could blindly accept and plead them to take care of me? But I know that this isn’t very selfish, because out of my selfish needs arises a need to provide love also.

Thinking about death scares me. Sometimes the tiniest of changes my body has, like a throbbing headache or a racing heart fills me with health anxiety. I’m unable to continue any work after that. It is so agonizing to see that the potential that lies within me is underused and wholly clouded, that most of the times I question my own beliefs. But there are moments of genius, when I’m reminded that I am under achieving way more than I should be, but my body prefers it that way I guess. Whenever I feel perfect, my body sure finds a way to make everything miserable, so that I return to my abject state of mediocrity and be happy within it.

What do I want to be in this life, what I want to do. I don’t know. I am leading my parents astray. I don’t know what to do. There are many things I can do and should do, but the fact is that I am doing nothing. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’ve certainly tried too hard in these last five years to explain what my mind is doing to itself. There seems to be a trade off at actually understanding myself and being stable or not being depressed, not under achieving but completely unstable. Like letting off the rein of a wild horse, and I’m not willing to take that risk.

I’m an ordinary person, who has suffered things in his mind to perceive that he is different from everyone else. The situations have made me life that. Most of the people think I’m some soft spoken person and judge me as someone who is a man of few words. No I am not. I have too much to say, but those words are drowned in silence.