Deeper and deeper into the labyrinth

A lot of things have happened to me these last couple of weeks. I finally left my old job, which felt like the career equivalent of finally leaving an abusive boyfriend that no one understand why you put up with. I got Lasik and got rid of the glasses. I joined up with a new company, a complete 180 from the old one, a Corporate TM. Won’t name it but suffice it to say it is Ye Olde Corporate with every kind of ridiculous and sometimes impressive corporate bullshit one could ask for.

Also, I had my 24th birthday.

I feel…strangely happy. I think 24 might be my year. I’ve got that feeling about it that I didn’t have with 23. Or did I? I can’t remember.

The corporate world is crazy and I’m about to plunge in head first. Please pray for me to find my way without losing my mind or my soul.

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There’s something about August

I visited this blog after aaaaagggges and what struck me was how there are these weird annual patterns in my life. December is when I’m happy, but also sad, but mostly just happy. March if when I’m struck with this weird bout of pointless creativity and passion about things like, say, which Westeros house I would be in. And August is when I have some kind of upheaval marked with stress, tension and my own special brand of Birthday Anxiety (TM). Think about it:

In 2012, first half of August I was waiting on my scholarship, second half, on my visa, and the last few days just going crazy with anticipation and fear about Edinburgh.
in 2013, I moved out of dorms into Mina’s place, I had no job, I was worried about my future, and afraid I’d flunked the dissertation (WHICH I WROTE IN SEVEN FREAKING DAYS). All my friends were leaving and it was stressful AF.

OK, then 2014. New job, back in India, relatively adjusted etc what have you. But i was EXTREMELY lonely at that point. Lonely and confused and severely over-worked and underpaid. Not liking adult life. Plus, my office shifted to a new location at the end of August which was kind of a big change at the time, for me.

Fast forward to 2015…and it’s a doozy. Leaving my current Dickensian (or maybe just plan Dickish) job for a gig at Le Accenture, your average top 10 MCBC corporate firm (eeeeyuppp they did not think those initials through for their Indian branches). I’m basically selling my soul and my time and my body, probably (for corporate experiments not sex GET YOUR MIND outta the gutter). God knows what kind of people will be there and if I’ll like it at all. Might suck at the work too.

But the money is great and it’s a good place-holder kinda job so yay me.

I dunno. What I really want is one birthday, just one, where I’m not full of anxiety about where my life is going, who my friends are, if anybody loves me at all, and whether or not I’ve wasted my life so far.

Just, like, 1 birthday like this. Without drugs. Please?

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Ms. Hyde

Do you ever feel like someone around you is turning into something you’re not? Not because of anything they’re deliberately doing, even. Just by being them, by being themselves, they turn you into a version of yourself you really dislike.

You feel happy when they fail

You wait for them to fall

You don’t help them when you know they need it but they don’t know they need it

You feel consumed with jealousy and insecurities about everything they do

…and there are days when you can’t see the difference between this type of craziness and a justified defense of your interests. this is when you start to wonder…have I really become this person? this person who cannot feel good about themselves without putting everybody down? this person who cannot feel happy, not for a second, without comparing that happiness with someone elses, without tearing that happiness apart with black thoughts that you don’t even recognize as your own…

So is it that person’s fault, for making you this way? Or is that person simply the trigger, the catalyst, the proverbial straw, that was needed to bring out this terrible, but ultimately true, side of you?

All I know is, I’m tired of feeling resentful and suspicious. And I run up the white flag. I can’t play these games anymore. I can’t live life as a constant competition. I freely admit it — I ‘m too weak to handle it. I’m to insecure. I have too many fragile points of my own.

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Fucking December

I know its been ages but better late than never.

My life is full of such cliches at the moment.

I don’t even know what to say or how to describe it so instead I’ll just tell you how I feel.

Like there’s a lot of noise, a lot of constant, never ending back ground noise, and I’m trying to sleep but the noise won’t let me and I cannot wake up either because I haven’t slept enough so there are only two modes in my life: sleepily awake or wakingly sleepy

And all the time background noise is making me dream bad dreams and think ugly thoughts and there’s no where to go but inside, inwards, towards the center, where there’s something even darker that I really, really, really don’t want to deal with, ever.

Sometimes memories, even the good ones are painful. The better the memories the more they hurt.

Can’t. Won’t. SHAN’T.

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I’ve realized the reason I feel so lonely sometimes despite having a decent number of friends is because I am the sidekick in all my friends’ lives. I am not the heroine in any of the stories. Who wants to waste a whole scene/chapter on a sidekick? Sidekick’s stories almost never have any relevance except when they directly affect the protag. And so they are never told.

So when I have a thing I’m feeling, and I want to pick up and call and talk about it, I don’t. Because I think — this is so unimportant. Its meaningless and simultaneously depressing and existential compared to their issues. Its not tonally right. I’m always eager to listen and to snarkily commentate and nicely advice as and when required about them. But when it comes to me, its as if my own issues are really not that worthy of discussion.

These are the same people with whom I shared every detail of my mundane life once. Who I could talk to about anything without any shame. But now I wonder if my friends actually care when ask ‘and how are you?’ and if they actually breath a sigh of relief when I say ‘oh fine…tell me about YOU”. Perhaps its paranoia. I hope so, anyway.

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Boat is coming

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on?

When in your heart you begin to understand: there is no going back.”

(Return of the King)

Tolkien always has gems with which my life can correlate but this one I had hoped to postpone till I was old and I don’t know, had saved the world after a perilous journey at the very least. The reality (back to home country, boring life, blah blah) is very anti-climactic.

Although the idea of being rescued by a pretty boat that takes me away to a beautiful members-only island full of tall, hot people with great hair seems very excellent. Anyone? Anyone? Anyone?

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Love Addiction (a poem)

Preen in a river
Smoke on a stick
Say the word love
Until it makes you sick

Yesterday I saw you
Today I wrote this poem
No idea if its true
Or if it makes any sense

Yesterday I kissed you
Though I didn’t hear your name
Undoubtedly I knew
With a name comes the shame

For a moment, or a meeting
They’re both pretty fleeting
But the indomitable spark
That can last forever

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