Living for the moment still seems to be a far better alternative to drawing up a road map.
There is no plan. There’s no method to the madness.
You do what you want because you feel that it’s right.
You do what you want because you feel that you want to.
You do what you want because you feel that you can.
We don’t get many chances to be swept up in whatever moments we find ourselves in.
Maybe it’s time we changed all that.
Belated Deepavali firecrackers are erupting on my street.
They’re really annoying.
I hope they don’t affect my cars.
Uno’s already growing slightly cuckoo from the noise.
For the first time in weeks, I’m actually feeling quite balanced.
(Or just a bit happier.)
I’m a chippy bastard.
For some time or other for these last two weeks, I’ve been wishing for something to spontaneously combust during my day.
I’ve been starting to feel the pull of monotony taking over. What was once drudgery has now evolved into a different kind of beast; a beast where aloofness is the norm, and where the chances of becoming wayward are as slim as a eunuch being tadpole-armed.
I don’t expect excitement to be procured over the course of the immediate future. It’d just be brilliant if I could pull myself out of the hole that I’ve dug. The bright side of all this is that the aforementioned hole is starting to become more shallow by a will of its own.
There’s got to be more than this.
So I’m simply not going to be around anymore.
In my heart
My paper ring
You put it on
And I am king
In my mind
My paper ring
You put it on
And I am king.
I can’t sleep. There’re a million things going on in my head. My usual dosage of slumber-inducing music hasn’t been working the way it usually does.
I’m resigned to listening to my own songs. That usually isn’t a good sign.
All the doubts, fears and thinly-veiled hopes that I’ve had these last few weeks have sprung up simultaneously.
I don’t believe that anyone can be truly happy for too long without realizing what they’ve given up on. You can never totally letting go without paying some kind of price for it.
I believe that I’m doing the right thing; and that this is what I want to do. I can’t be proven wrong, but I can’t prove that I’m right, either.
Whatever happens will happen. That’s undeniable.
But for the first time, I want to fight for something badly enough that it actually makes me get off my fat arse and do it.
I’m not ready to move on without a fight. I don’t care if I’m going down either with a bang or a whimper. I’m not going to take this sitting down; I’m going to bring the mountain to you.
You know that this was going to happen.
There’s not much of a point in turning back now.
I don’t think I’m as obsessed with success as I should be. Most people around me are driven to succeed; it might be some desire to gain a remote semblance of ‘stability’. It also might be because it’s regarded as the right thing to do — after all, there’s nothing better than making something out of yourself.
I’ve never felt the urgency to go places. I’ve been perfectly content being aimlessly aimless, and I’ve been happy with how things have been. I’m not saying that I want to stay showered in static all my life — it’s just that I crave and hate anonymity all at once.
Have you ever felt lost about who you are and what makes you tick? A while back (but not too long ago), I always walked around with this inclination that I was set for bigger things. I don’t really know what I think these days.
I’m not sure if I’ve built a cage around myself and whether or not I’m just a jaded little jigga who can’t figure heads or tails between what he wants and what he really wants.
Nobody knows where they’re going; I’m just not really sure I can be bothered to get directions anymore.