I wish there could be tangibility or quantity associated with the abstract. If there were a definition point of absolute degeneration, I would have now assumed its shape. Nothing interests me. Nothing. At work I am just vegetating and want to do nothing more. (Just make a note of the number of times I am using the letter “n”). Never taking any initiative, not even taxing my brain a wee bit, never voicing any opinion, never contributing anything save for justifying the presence of the chair on which I sit and the keyboard on which I bang. So comfortable have I become with the mundane, that I have begun to consider it my oxymoronic haven. 10 hours of every day of my life are spent existing between breakfast, lunch and coffee breaks. Another four hours are spent in anticipation of or getting ready for or contemplating about these ten hours.
“What do I want from life????”. I would ambitiously want to assume that this thought tortures billions with every sunrise and sunset. In the comfort of the fact that I am just a small insignificant part of this mass paranoia, it still sometimes pinches that I don’t have a goal, I have not given a thought to the future, five years down the lane, I wouldn’t even know whether I am alive, paralyzed, brain dead or deceased: leave alone seeing myself establishing a strong forte in my current occupational field.
I see others around me studying for, aiming for, wanting something. I see a hazy outline of a man, a dog, a home and books. However, I do not have a freakin clue as to how in the freakin world am I supposed to freakin make them real.
Do I want to study? Yes. Study Poetry, Virginia Woolf and her idiosyncratic fantasies about a world made real by her vivid imagination, study history, a dissertation on the break out in Sarajevo 94 years ago, go traveling, thirsting for people, cultures and beauty, Vineyards in Boudreaux or Baramati . I yearn so much for these that the thought of not having them kills me and yet again the thought of actually exerting myself to have that, vexes me. Is it a mirage that I am chasing? Wanting only that which I cant have or to be more appropriate, dont have?
You will always want what you don’t have. When you do have what you did want, the possession becomes alien and wretched, as now there is really no want for it. So you start wanting something else again. Right now the want of not wanting to be here at this workstation, among these people is so acute that it is agonizing to even consider anything else except for running away.
Metamorphosis….. into….into… air, touching omnipresence and yet never associating.