Muse Amuse

I’ve never felt an emotion such, that I know I will miss something, even before it IS over. Day-2 at college, when everyone was apparently “meditating” and I was guffawing at it around me, I remember saying to myself, how much I would miss it all four years later. And it hadn’t even begun then. I know my department is merely tolerable to me. And the whole idea of what I’m doing, and where it will perhaps take me, doesn’t seem appealing at all to me, what I do, I enjoy. If not the work, that thankfully is more than enough, keeping me busy and not reminding me of it, the people I work with, or am with, the rest of the time, have been concocting so much of my existence.

Every little thing I do, is done impulsively. Tiny, minute thing. With so much freedom, going home, seems alien to me. Home apparently now? I don’t think I can belong to anywhere. I’ve lost the whole concept of “holding on”. Whether it’s people, or mere things. I care about people/ things a lot less. All I remotely care about is work.

I’m ever more convinced about the non-existence of the emotion of, you know, love love. I don’t think I can ever feel that way, or let alone, that way, someone about me. It’s all too complicated for me. Though, maybe I would remotely want it. I figuratively know, it won’t.

I’ve never felt an emotion such, that I know I will miss something, even before it IS over. Day-2 at college, when everyone was apparently “meditating” and I was guffawing at it around me, I remember saying to myself, how much I would miss it all four years later. And it hadn’t even begun then. I know my department is merely tolerable to me. And the whole idea of what I’m doing, and where it will perhaps take me, doesn’t seem appealing at all to me, what I do, I enjoy. If not the work, that thankfully is more than enough, keeping me busy and not reminding me of it, the people I work with, or am with, the rest of the time, have been concocting so much of my existence.

Every little thing I do is done impulsively. Tiny, minute thing. With so much freedom, going home, seems alien to me. Home apparently now? I don’t think I can belong to anywhere. I’ve lost the whole concept of “holding on”. Whether it’s people, or mere things. I care about people/ things a lot less. All I remotely care about is work.

I’m even more convinced about the non-existence of the emotion of, you know, love love. I don’t think I can ever feel that way, or let alone, that way, someone about me. It’s all too complicated for me. Though, maybe I would remotely want it. I figuratively know, it won’t.

I had a weird coversation with the auto guy, Weirder one with the rickshaw. Said he’d come with me wherever I was going.  And ki main rakh loon. Was weird. I didn’t look forward to meeting him even though I’d wanted it all this while. I’m convinced that I can definitely bore someone to death. Though I didn’t want it to happen that way at all. Can’t be helped now , can it?!

Last evening, seemed like I still had so much work to do. You know, the feeling that you’re actu8ally free, is an amalgamation of emotions. That you’re happy, sad, wish-you-were-working, and a whole lot of other crap.  But when it sets in, it is truly blissful. I’m spending time alone. Not yet though. But relatively. People have gone home, and are to.

  I’m content, yes. I love being alone. To fall in love is not for me.

Someone give me something to write about. A tag, anything! I beg!

I want a new blog post!

What I would want to write about, is all up there in the head. Safe.

Edit: I like my music organized. And my room too. Finally got rid of the muslin on my table. Ah.