Sunday, May 18

Murphy cringes all the time

I'm becoming murderous with disappointment. I thought I needed to leave Delhi for a while, that it'll be good for me to get away from everything and everyone that's got so firmly under my skin. But it turns out I'm carrying my discontentment around with me, that being away from Delhi doesn't mean my thoughts aren't very much there. I didn't see this coming, this ridiculous situation that I find myself in, that I'd have laughed at and in my rare moments of clarity still do laugh at.
My grammar is all kaput.
So it turns out that Delhi and its bastard minions exercise a very powerful hold over me. I'm constantly trying to figure out strategies to be able to feel like me again. Because, Internet, I honestly don't. Feel like myself anymore. It's become a constant struggle to simply keep the demons at bay. And it's not like I'm very good at it either. I constantly fall, am fallen, and will keep falling. And I try, I try to be all me-like, which is an aloof, stuck up bitch, but I WANT all the fucking time.
I'm not sure why I'm equating my situation to Delhi. It's probably part of another ridiculous strategy (I can't even keep up with my schemes anymore) to just be able to break this ridiculous firm hold on me. It's not Delhi. It's not its bastard minions. It's a breakdown of the very basic things I believed about myself. Turns out I'm not one-tenth as awesome and cool as I thought.

A while ago when I was stuck in the very comfortable sluggishness of stability I craved emotional upheaval. And I'm trying to objectively think about what I want. The artistic pining has only one thing in its favour. It makes me feel alive and human. Gay though that sounds, it's something that slips away from me fairly easily. Without it I tend to go into a nihilistic place where I just couldn't be arsed to do any fucking thing. I shut off completely and cruise along on auto-pilot.
The alternative, this rollercoaster of disappointment and hope makes me nauseous and want to vomit and be left alone.
Eh. I just reread that and am embarrassed about how this sounds. Ah well.

In other news, I'm getting no work done.

1 comment:

Aaki said...

Unrelated to post, (cross-posted as reply from my blog)

I can't believe this! YOU are the Anuva who actually inspired my name for.. Anuva. :P In the sense, I saw your link on the blog (Blackstratblues) and immediately knew. I'm a big fan of *your* song. And Bombay Rain. Have been for months now. Give my compliments to Warren. I saw him at a gig in Delhi but was too bashful (heh) to walk up and do fan-talk. Tell him a fan was obviously inspired. :)

And. Love Ishiguro too. Surreal indeed.