life is boring at 22. I can't imagine how unbearable it's going to be much later. Was I born out of place in the wrong age and place, or is this how life's always been? If the answer is the latter, then I suppose I'm ignorant of what it takes to make life meaningful beyond 22. Never realized life can be so depressive. My head is too full of childhood stories of men who wanted to live forever, who hated to die. I wonder what made them think that it would be a nice idea to be immortal when, I at the prime of my life at 22, already feel senile, wilted and wanting to explore death as an interesting turning point.
My survival has seized its connections with my interests, values, passions and pastimes that have defined me and made me what I am. I don't find me living my life in waking up and having to report to work that I don't appreciate doing.
I no longer take pleasure doing the little things that added meaning to life, like visiting the temple pond, short walks, occasional midnight meals with friends. The day is morose, and feels like the world will die a cold death at next dawn. I refuse to talk to much, I refuse to do anything worthwhile as I'm eaten by the emptiness of what life has become. No time to interact with friends, nobody to trust with secrets, no more group studies, no more outings to hill stations, no more beer parties, no more nothing. Suddenly I realize it's getting to late; I need to go crash right away to get some decent sleep before its dawn and an entire new day begins. Cause I know the world won't die a cold death so soon, and I would be left back, too back, if I don't run to the work I don't like; by all means hate.
I don't like to plan my entire day so that my work receives highest priority, when in actual priority is family and time for myself.
My thoughts break away, I feel tired thinking of the sharp turn life has taken after college. I fear I have to bear this all my life. I wish my life was short, so that I can put an end to this sooner. All my teachers were wrong about me, when they said I have a great future. How can something be great if it isn't even enjoyed? I only wish I could live the life of hope that I lived while in school or the glorious college life; glorious despite the small pockets. Every new person that I meet is graver than the previous. Probably that's how everyone feels about me too. Everybody's talking things that other doesn't understand, not even interested. Few are willing to listen. yet, everyone wants to be heard and I have become one among them. Far from what I wished I would be when I grew up, I'm everything like I never wanted to be; over working, impatient, complaining, unsatisfied and worldly ambitious. The best way to overcome my predicament is to crash soon and let Sunday pass while I'm asleep charging my spent spirit for another week of work I'm not passionate about.
My survival has seized its connections with my interests, values, passions and pastimes that have defined me and made me what I am. I don't find me living my life in waking up and having to report to work that I don't appreciate doing.
I no longer take pleasure doing the little things that added meaning to life, like visiting the temple pond, short walks, occasional midnight meals with friends. The day is morose, and feels like the world will die a cold death at next dawn. I refuse to talk to much, I refuse to do anything worthwhile as I'm eaten by the emptiness of what life has become. No time to interact with friends, nobody to trust with secrets, no more group studies, no more outings to hill stations, no more beer parties, no more nothing. Suddenly I realize it's getting to late; I need to go crash right away to get some decent sleep before its dawn and an entire new day begins. Cause I know the world won't die a cold death so soon, and I would be left back, too back, if I don't run to the work I don't like; by all means hate.
I don't like to plan my entire day so that my work receives highest priority, when in actual priority is family and time for myself.
My thoughts break away, I feel tired thinking of the sharp turn life has taken after college. I fear I have to bear this all my life. I wish my life was short, so that I can put an end to this sooner. All my teachers were wrong about me, when they said I have a great future. How can something be great if it isn't even enjoyed? I only wish I could live the life of hope that I lived while in school or the glorious college life; glorious despite the small pockets. Every new person that I meet is graver than the previous. Probably that's how everyone feels about me too. Everybody's talking things that other doesn't understand, not even interested. Few are willing to listen. yet, everyone wants to be heard and I have become one among them. Far from what I wished I would be when I grew up, I'm everything like I never wanted to be; over working, impatient, complaining, unsatisfied and worldly ambitious. The best way to overcome my predicament is to crash soon and let Sunday pass while I'm asleep charging my spent spirit for another week of work I'm not passionate about.
1 comment:
Hey bro,
Just read this post. Well, I dont want to get into the category of being heard though my post hear will sound that way. You are on the right track. You are conscious about your choices, even otherwise you do know what you are doing. So I feel you have made a decision or formed opinion too early. Do think.
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