fight club

if i am fighting with everyone, then its not everyone: it must be me.

today the usual question taunted me, the usual question which i will not say because it will be misconstrued as a cry for attention, as everyone these days seem to think. its very real, in my own head, this bright shiny black bubble that festers and pulsates. it hit me today, too harshly, perhaps too suddenly, that i cannot stay here.

for a long time, there was a plan, a big fat plan, which suddenly demised. then there was the other plan to go be with family across the seas and continents and settle there so family is near by, i even knew where i wanted to be, and saw what i was doing. hours spent discussing plan2 with learned men, planning recommendations which i didn’t tell you about. then suddenly plan flew out of the window. so today, in futile search of the next thing-to-do, i realised one thing: that we are all truly masters of our own fates, trust no one. (oddly that’s mum’s favourite saying)

so here’s the new plan, hatched perhaps too late.

anywhere but here. to live in the cold, with warm friends and warm rugs under our feet. we discussed the option of me having a dog, consensus: small. we’ve divvied up the chores. we know who’s lording over where; whose duties are what. even if you and you back out, i’ll go.

i cannot live my life waiting for handouts, i cannot live my life waiting for a prospect hinged on anyone else.i’m sorry some of you will fall through the cracks; i cannot hold up your world anymore, i cannot even hold up mine.

the psychologist made a point today about how in the pursuit of dreams we perhaps have to make sacrifices. she’s right. i worry about these said sacrifices, but its time i learnt about necessary evils.

mrs beaverton says to me, after years of being apart, “you might be the world’s greatest writer/ and take home the pulitzer prize/you might be a nuclear scientist/and the whole world could think/ that you’re wise/ but the wisdom of the world is quite different/ than the wisdom that comes from above/ cause you can be smart about/ all kinds of things and/be dumb, dumb, dumb de dumb dumb/ dumb dumb dumb.” (credits to Ernie & Debbie Rettino)


Author: c

my world, out of your reach

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