Rant – Page 8

The 14-hour sleep cycle

Every often, someone something comes along that challenges the human limits. Pushes things to an extent that no one thought was possible. Sort of, opens the doors for the rest of the world to follow. Makes the world believe that something everyone believed impossible is actually possible.

Take the 4-minute mile for example. Before that person ran the mile in less than 4 minutes (I dont know his name), no one thought it was possible. And now, the 4-min miles are as routine as people running barefoot.

There are numerous such things. There is the 10-second 100 meters dash, the 10-second Rubik’s, score of 200+ by a batsman and so on and so forth. I can make a long list of things like that.

The point is, someone has to prove to the world that things are possible. And then everyone else, sort of follows.

All my life, I have struggled to find that something that I could claim ownership of. Something that I could claim that I’ve invented. Something that I am the first to achieve. Something that I show the way with.

So with much difficultly and exploration, I think I have found it. Something that I can claim as my baby. Ladies and gents, say hello to the 14-hour sleep day. It’s doable and its not too tough. I mean if I can do it in the hot and humid Mumbai weather, you can do it from other more comfortable places. For sure.

From whatever little I know, it is recommended that us humans sleep atleast 7 hours everyday. Most people are lucky if they can manage 5. The great Kumbhakarana did 6-month sessions but then he’s the stuff the legends are made of. I am a mere mortal. For me, 14 hours is like an achievement!

Kumbhakarana – The original sleep athlete!

And no, its not one off, freak occurrence. I have been doing 14-hour sessions for last few days. On the trot. Without much ado.

It all started on the recent trip to Goa. There, I was in middle of so much action that I hardly got anytime to sleep. And I was totally fine by it! But when I came back, I dont know what came over me, I started doing these 14-hour sessions.

Of course sleeping is serious business and I need to burn some calories. Thus to go along with my long sleep sessions, I have been eating as if I am from a famished land and the days ahead are full of scrounging in a foreign land. And since I need to burn all the 5000+ calories that I’ve consuming, I ought to sleep. You know, the vicious circle?

The thing is, writing, ~~dreaming~~, work and other things have taken a back seat and I am missing a few deadlines but what are these deadlines when I am on a mission to push the human limits! I am trying to make that dent. And I am sure that work can wait. No?

So ladies and gents, come be a part of the revolution that I am creating. It really is possible to sleep for 14+ hours everyday. You got to believe that you can do it. You just need a little bit of push. On the bed. And then drift away. To that world beyond your boring old life!

I would’ve written more.. but sleep beckons… you know!

P.S.: The amateur scientist in me tells me hat these are early symptoms of bipolar disease (aka clinical depression in simpler terms). Or may be its the Vitamin D deficiency. Or I am missing sgMS a little too much and I am trying to not think about her by succumbing to sleep. Or maybe I am merely running away from something. Whatever is the reason, I am loving it. I know that this depressive state wont last too long, like the maniac state that I was in a few days ago. And I need to totally live it up.

P.P.S.: In memory of @AapChutiyeHain. I did not know him but his death has affected me. And I think I know why he did what he did. I can relate to him. RIP dude. The world did not deserve you. Thank you for spreading smiles. You will be missed.

Dear sgMS

From the movie Notting Hill. One of the greatest love stories ever told!

Dear sgMS,

Trust you are well.

So, I dont know where to start this rant. I have nothing new to report. Its the same old life, same old rut, same old circle or life. And the same old longing for you. It’s been so long that I’ve spoken to you that it feels like a life time.

~~It is~~ You often said that us humans are funny people and time is the greatest healer. And with time we forget, forgive everything. We move on. Time heals everything. For some funny reason, I haven’t been able to. I miss you. I miss you like I could miss anything else. Damn I am short of words. I dont know what to say to make you come running in my arms. But I miss you like mad.

Second thing you said was that moment I find someone else, I will forget you. I tried to find that someone else. And I failed at it. Over the last few days, I have met
few women and some of them have been absolute pleasure to hang out with.
But every time I crossed that blurry line between being strangers and being acquaintances, I felt as if I were cheating on you. I couldnt carry on the conversation. I would exit. Feeling guilty about even making an attempt to meet others.

And then I would be miserable for the next few days. Till I gather myself and my thoughts and chase someone else. And after I meet someone, I would be guilty all over again. And the vicious cycle would continue. I dont see a way out. I know I cant be with you and I know I cant stay away from. I sincerely dont know what to do.

You know, I thought I’d never say this. But I need you. I am desperate for your company. I long for you. I can do anything to be around you. I dont want you to kiss me, I dont want you to hug me. I dont even want to shake hands or whatever. Just be around you. Allow me to be around. Please. I beg of you. I promise I would not make it awkward. I would not make it uncomfortable. Please…

I really need you to hold me and tell me that all will be ok. Remember how we sat next to that broken wall along a river? And then on that bench next to that other river? I miss those times. I miss sitting next to you.

I miss you.

Please come back.

Love always,
SG

Jana Gana Mana

Like a lot of other odd things about Mumbai (or may be Maharashtra), if you go to a movie hall to see a movie, they play our National Anthem before a movie. Nothing wrong with it per se. Just that I don’t appreciate when someone forces things on us. After all we are a free country. Wait… are we? Debate for a different time, different day I guess.

Anyhow, so last night, I went to see a movie (don’t ask me who I went with or what movie was it). When the national anthem played, I realized that in last few months, I have stopped bothering about my motherland, thanks to our great democracy, greater politicians, foolish citizens, opportunistic media and foolhardy myself.

But the song, the national anthem, the music brought back a few memories. It moved me. Moved me so much that I had goosebumps. After all, India, my country, my nation, was my first love and since I heard the anthem play after so so long, all the memories that I had of being a passionate and fanatic Indian came rushing back. I remembered that there were times when I picked fights with random strangers if they even flinched while the natinoal anthem was playing. And yesterday, this dude walked up the entire aisle of the hall while the national anthem played on. And I was ok with it.

To be honest, I don’t know what has changed. And I don’t know how it has changed.

And yesterday when I noticed the change, I just dint like it. I dint appreciate it. I guess it’s like aging. You cant tell a moment from another and yet you are moving in some direction. Towards something. Undesirable mostly. Everything remains the same while you are breathing towards your eminent death. You are aging every second and yet you don’t notice it. It’s so slow, so gradual that you cant notice even if you want to. Some say that our body is made up of 100 trillion cells and in one year 95% of those cells are recycled. But when you see your photographs every year, you are are older, balder, bent and frail. And you know the worse part? You can’t do shit about it!

In fact, as I write this, I can actually spot a general pattern. It’s not about just India and the pride of being an Indian. Things that mattered when I was younger have ceased to matter now. I can think of a million examples. Things like money, fame, friends, dreams, aspirations, thoughts, opinions, wants et al. I dont want any of those. I dont chase any of those. I am fine if I die tomorrow and I dont have em.

I guess I have achieved whatever I could have. 32 years is a long enough time to do something worthwhile. If you havent done it in 32, what are the odds you would do them in the next 8. A huamn life is afteall good till you’re 40. After that, well…

And the ones I am indifferent about, guess I cant achieve em. I have actually made peace with the fact that I can never have those things. I’d regret that I couldnt buy a car.

It’s like, I have come to a point where everything is ok. I am merely drifting through life. They call it being a vegetable. I am being a fucking vegetable. I like it or not but that’s how it is. A vegetative state.

I guess the only person to blame is me.

I for some reason don’t have any more emotions (except for #sgMS), any more attachments (except my family) or any more affiliations (except may be MDI). India does not even feature anywhere in the entire thing. In fact if you know me IRL, you will know that I have been trying to move out of India for some time now. However things aren’t working out. Some day they will. Inshallah.

It’s like someone has drained all josh, all junoon from my freaking blood. It just doesn’t come to a boiling point anymore. Bismil, in his wonderful Sarfaroshi Ki Tammanna once said,

जिस्म भी क्या जिस्म है जिसमें न हो ख़ून-ए-जुनून
क्या लढ़े तूफ़ान से जो कश्ती-ए-साहिल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है
देखना है ज़ोर कितना बाज़ू-ए-क़ातिल में है

I lack that junoon. I need to fucking go hang my balls. Go to Himalayas to retire. Or may be take Jal Samadhi.

P.S.: I dont know if I am seeing patterns where none exist, but today in 1931, three of the most valiant sons of the soil were killed by the British.

Untitled. Mar 10.

Today, is Mar 10. It’s 1:29 AM. Although the last blog post happened just over a week ago, it feels like forever. I just had to post something. Even if it was an inane post that had three lines and three tags. OCD. They say. No?

Now it’s Mar 10. 1:41 AM. Took me 12 minutes to come up with this 12-word post. Writer’s block?

Rich SG. Poor SG.

I am rich. At least in my mind.

And in my mind, like all rich people, I love to travel. I love to take afternoon naps. I like spending time in luxury. I don’t have to go to an office. I can spend my time in chasing “higher” pursuits. Such as art, craft, thinking and creating new knowledge.

In real life however, I am merely rich in the way I consume technology. In terms of things I know. In terms of my dreams. I am also rich when it comes to the kind of conversations that I can hold (but do they feed you? No?). But I am rich. Filthy rich.

I am rich when it comes to visualizing. Isn’t that what texts like Secret, NLP, Rich Dad, Poor Dad etc. say?

Yet..

I am poor. In real life.

I don’t know where would the next meal come from. Ok that was exaggeration. You may scratch that please. But I am poor in the sense that I don’t have a car, I don’t have a house, I don’t have fancy clothes, I don’t have power, I don’t have respect. All those things that Kwan consists of, I don’t have any of that. Kwan btw is Love, Respect, Community and Dollars.

I am so poor that I don’t know where to go and work out of. Ever since I thought I could work for myself, I have been on the lookout for that perfect place that I could sit out and work out from. Despite my desperate attempts I haven’t been able to find something.

Damn this life of poverty and limited means. Damn the world that made the concept of money and damn me that I am unable to do something about my situation.

P.S.: For the context, this rant came out of a combination of a lot of things that have been gnawing over my comfort for last few weeks. These are…

My decision to not work full time for someone else.
In the long run, an attempt to create something gives me location and financial independence. This means I can choose what I work on, when I work and how much I am paid for it. It’s not easy, as I am discovering now.
In the medium run, try and get paid enough to pay the bills for my family and me.
In the short term, my inability to find a cheap solution to my hunt for a place where I could sit and write / work. I am rich enough to have the quirks of not having a home office. And poor that I can’t afford Starbucks and other such places.

10 things I learned after #tnks happened

Buy my book here!

If you live under a stone, you would have missed the big thing I did last year – publish a book! More about it is at www.tnks.in. Do check it out.

So its been two months since the book came out and here is a list of 10 things that I learnt. The hard way.

Unlike what you want to believe, the world does not stop going around because you’ve written a book. There are far too many authors and farer tooer manyer books in the world. And no, no one wants to know when your next book is going to come out. Even if you’ve booked a domain name for it a year in advance.
People don’t mob you asking for your autograph. In fact they don’t even know you. When you tell them that you’re a published author, they go “uh huh… so?” and you don’t have an answer.
When people actually do stop to talk to you about books, more often than not they are not they are not curious about yours. Or you. They want to know if you’ve had any tryst with Chetans or Amishs of the world.
If the book does not sell, the only person to blame is you. No one else. Your book is your priority. No one else’s. Not even if they are your publisher, your editor, your mother, your friend, your agent. You and you alone are responsible. Even if you get a tiny percentage as royalty. No wonder they say that writing is the loneliest profession in the world.
You know what is lonelier than writing a book? Marketing it. Marketing your book is like pimping yourself. It’s like selling your soul. It is very similar to job hunting. Or trying to find someone to date. For each of these, you are supposed to sell yourself. You are supposed to extol the virtues (that may or may not be your strong suit). And you are supposed to hide your vices. You do it once, it’s awkward. You do it twice, it’s soul-stirring. You do it more than that, you start considering yourself as the greatest loser (well, sorest loser) to have walked on Mother Earth. Ever. Funny that all first-time writers (well, most) do this and seem totally ok with it. I, on the other hand am not. Why? Any shrinks reading this?
If you somehow get over the innate shyness to make enough noise about your book in this world full of clutter, do not expect it to catapult you to fame and success and money and interviews and matrimonial proposals and movie offers and other such things. It takes forever to gain traction with your book. Historians estimate that Birbal could cook his khichidi faster.
The book is not a way to live a life free from a job. Most authors have to maintain a full-time job. Why do people even want to write books when they know that it hardly pays (baring a few great ones like Chetan and Amish). So, the dreams you had of quitting your job after you wrote your book? Let em be in that fuzzy dreamy state for a few more years. May be few decades. Or, may be marry a woman who takes up the challenge to earn bread for family and allows you to be a stay-at-home writer. It would be so cool actually! If you know of any single, career-oriented women looking to settle down with a happy-go-lucky guy, please point them to me. Apart from being bald, overweight and slightly on the older side, I am perfect! References available. On request.
Oh, there are side effects of being a writer. You think so much that you lose hair (ok, I made that up to cover for my bald head). But you do put on weight because all you do the entire day, is write. You type, type, recover crashed hard disk, write some more and then hope like hell that some publisher likes it. So you put on weight. And you become boring because you don’t have time to step out and enjoy parties and all that. People around you start dismissing you as a boring recluse that is lost in his stories all the time. Well, people are often right. Case in point? Your’s truly. Wait a minute. What does “your’s truly” even mean? Who invented it? Is it one of those Indian-English inventions? Must be. Moving on…
You inadvertently become a grammar nazi. Even though you are an Indian and your introduction sounds like “myself Sunder Srivastava,” and your grammar skills are sketchy at best, you tend to think of yourself as custodian of lingua britannica. And every time you see or hear or come across someone who makes a typo or a mistake (was vs were, you’re vs your, its vs it’s, ok vs okay, et al) you take it as personal offense. You want to castrate that person, you want to pack that person off to Bangladesh or any other fourth-world country. Of course your first book has so many typos and grammatical errors that you could be banned from using English language for the rest of your seven lives. Classic case in point of mediocre yet arrogant attitude, hypocrisy and delhiwallah-showoff attitude.
You get a lesson in humility. To be honest, you don’t really want it. It just happens. You actually want to become that arrogant prick that gives hard time to everyone around him all the time. But you realize you can’t. Because to be arrogant, you need to have some substance that the world would tolerate your shenanigans for. The book you thought that was your gift to the mankind, the best thing to have happened since the advent of the printing press, a knight in the shining armor for that generation that is bored of those predictable stories, gets lukewarm response. And you automatically become humble. So humble that you are often found knocking at unknown doors, hoping to slip in a word about your book at those places. Oh, do you know of some places where I can talk about my book?

Thats 10 things. Of course I learnt way more than 10 things. These ten were the most nagging of em all. Someday, time permitting, I plan to write an entire book about the process of writing a book so that you may go write your book! Yeah, a book about how to write a book. Like a recursive function. Like a feedback loop. Like a robot that can reproduce. I am not kidding.

Lemme know if you would want to read it. I will make it available for free if there are enough requests. Until then, please buy my book!

P.S.: If you find any typos in this, any grammar mistakes in this, please do let me know. Will you?

I wish…

Here’s a list of thing that I wish I could have / own / do / work on / etc.

I wish I could be a stand-up ~~comic~~ comedian
I wish I could sing well
I wish I could play the guitar
I wish I went to a college like Harvard
I wish my book sold as much as Chetan’s sell
I wish I did not have to work for money
I wish my money worked for me instead
I wish I could work out from the road
I wish I had a fast Internet connection
I wish I had a faster computer
I wish I could help my ex-boss, ex-employer buy his dream car – Audi Q5
I wish I could buy myself a car. Any car
I wish I had more time
I wish I could choose how I spent my time
I wish I had more talent
I wish I had more brains
I wish I was creative
I wish I could earn respect
I wish I had more friends
I wish I had less people to answer to
I wish I did not have to marry
I wish I did not have responsibilities
I wish I could make shit happen
I wish I could meet Steve Jobs. Any Jonny Ive. And Warren Buffet. And Bill Gates. And so many more people.

and…
…
…

I wish I could be with #sgMS

Jan 01. Much ado about nothing?

Stack of post-it notes on a wall in my room.

If you know me, you’d know that I am big on new year resolutions and I make an elaborate list every year. This year is no different. I have made a long list.

And as a result of the list, at the stroke of the midnight hour when the clock ticks in to the new year, I am supposed to be infused with some energy, some superpower that would make me an invincible superhuman and I’d rush through the list as if it was a walk in the park.

But Dec 31 came and went. The clocked crept into Jan 01 and continued ticking. But I could not see any apparent change in me. I don’t feel any special. Neither do I have extra spark running in my veins. I am still the same. Cranky, old as always.

I understand that change is often a slow process and the rate of change is so slow that you can hardly notice it. And thus I am willing to be patient about it. Some day, may be something ticks in me that makes me better.

The change was supposed to start on the 1st of Jan. It did not happen. I am not disappointed. Because, I did DO a few interesting things and a handful of good things happened to me. I also took first baby steps towards some of my goals for 2015 – 250K words, 30″, marathon etc…

So here is a non-exhaustive list of good things from day 01, 2015.

– As a regular at Starbucks, I love their Java Chip Frappuccino. Apparently its the most loaded beverage that they have. I replaced it with a variant of Green Tea. Oh by the way, I HATE green tea. But apparently the green tea makes you healthier and thus the change.
– Stopped eating Rice, Sugar, Potato and replaced it with pulses, roti and cabbage. More on this in subsequent posts.
– Got calls from a college where I taught event management. This I think is good news. Because this translates into money. And more opportunities of interaction with young students. And opening up of avenues. I just need to be able to negotiate the money better.
– Got a tax refund that was stuck with the Govt. of India. At the risk of jinxing the inflow of money, I hope that more money comes my way in 2015. And the kind of work that I want to do; rather than work that I am forced to do.
– Started a tumblr blog where I would eventually dump whatever thoughts swirl in my head the entire day. I should ideally use Evernote but I think I have worked out a system for sorting things in my entire life. Twitter for marketing and networking. Facebook as a content hub. LinkedIn as my CV. Evernote is my extended brain where I capture things and context. Tumblr blog would be where I vomit ideas and thoughts without any inhibitions. You are welcome to follow the blog, if you find it useful. I will add more tools in a post about productivity. Or tools that I use to manage my life. Again in a subsequent post.

However the day did not go as planned. These were quite a few misses. Actually more misses than hits. Here is a list.

– Wasted time helping someone else. I was supposed to say no. I would’ve loved to help if it paid. Or taught me something that I did not know. Or if it were a way to pay if forward. What I did for close to three hours today was none of the above. Need to stop such things. My time is precious.
– Played poker and lost. I have to complete a few assignments that are due ~~tomorrow~~ today and I haven’t even started on those. So, I should’ve worked instead. I played poker instead.
– Had to have a Red Bull to stay up. Deadlines like I said. I don’t like using things to keep me up. I will try to reduce the consumption. It’s already been close to three weeks since I had a coke. That itself is an achievement. Over time I want to reduce my reliance on Red Bull as well.
– Had to start on a few projects – Guitar, Capt Obv, OnWriting. I did nothing about the projects. I did not start. I did not plan. I did not think of those. I was too bored, too blind, too busy with helping other people that I ended up doing nothing. Something that I need to stop doing, if I am to be rich or successful in the year.

Am sure there are more things that I ought to have done but did not do. Like the next book, I should have written 1000 words by end the day. I did not write a single word. On 2nd, I will have to write 2000. The backlog just keeps piling up! I need to get away from the backlog clearing weekend habit!

So may be, just may be, Jan 02 is better. I’d make it better. Who am I kidding? It’s 4 AM already and I have a long long day at work. Only thing I’d probably be able to do once I am back from work after 7 PM would be to crash on the bed. Damn! Jan 01 was I had to reset and undo life. I had to eliminate clutter. I had to start saying no. And I failed royally at all those.

May be Jan 02 is better? Wish me luck!

It better be better!

P.S.: Apart from setting the goals, I haven’t had time to split the goals into tasks and short-term actionable items. I will do so on the coming weekend. It means that I would have fewer days to reach my goal. Am I ok with it? Yes I am! As long as I am moving towards something!

P.P.S.: From Jan 02 onwards, I will post these updates on the tumblr blog. This blog shall remain for the consumption of the world at large. Tumblr will be open as well but I will not talk about it much. If it’s of some value to someone, they would flock it!

Why Starbucks?

As I write this, its 5.25 PM on a Tuesday. I have left office early. Not because I did not have a lot of work. But because I had a lot to do and I did not know where to start from. I just needed a break from all the things I was working on, all the people I was surrounded by and all the things open on my plate. So I took one.

And I am at Starbucks. And for some reason, everything that was bothering me for last few days, all of it is gone! I am in my zone. Where thoughts come to my head and those thoughts become words. And the words appear on the laptop screen. And I feel that I am moving in some direction.

I dont know what is it. May be I have trained my mind to work best when I am sitting on a wooden chair on a wobbly table under the yellow light with all the din of a coffee shop listening to my music on headphones tapping onto the amazing keypad of a MacBook pro.

And while I wrote this, I asked a few questions about a website to a friend, replied to a few work emails, bought the secret santa gift for a colleague and sipped onto an ice cold Javachip Frappuccino. And it’s 5:36 PM. About 10 minutes to come up with these 200 odd words.

#ftw. Or as they would have said, “all your base are belong to us”!

Untitled. 12.12.14 / 18.12.14.

It’s one of those days… Just too much has happened in last 24 hours. Let me try and chronicle those things here.

(a). A friend’s dad was unwell. I spent an entire day in hospital. The hatred and aversion that I have for hospitals came rushing back at me. While I was there, I could totally see lives of my loved ones flash past by me. I took a vow to get healthy and never ever see inside of a hospital (for myself). So unless it’s REALLY REALLY important, I will not step inside an hospital. More on hospitals on some other post.

(b). One of those important women that I talk about in (a), I called her. I told her that I loved her more than anyone else, anything else. And she hung up on me. She had to. I had no right calling her after all these years and do that. I am sorry for doing so. But I was way too full after the incident at the hospital.

(c). I made a new friend over the last few days, thanks to the book. She is THE 3 AM friend that I’ve always wanted in life. Not that I dont have other such people. But she is in a different continent and is as broken as I and can totally understand where I come from. But then these are early days. So let’s see how it goes.

(d). I am ready to move on yet again. Its not been three months and I’ve had enough. Let’s see what is next. More on this in some other post in some time. I DEFINITELY know what I dont want. And I still dont know what I want. May be I need to see a shrink or something. If only I had the money.

(e). I was messed up in my head and I was killing time on YouTube. Stumbled on this video. And while I enjoyed the performance, I had this shade of guilt and pity. My heart goes out to artiste like Lucky Ali. I have some vague idea of the show business and the kind of tantrums ~~people~~ artists throw. Here he is, performing at a stage that looks small by all standards, on a sound that is fucked up and with a band that looks like an ensemble at best. And he’s Lucky fucking Ali. The God reincarnated. Yet getting old by the day. Lucky Ali is / was my first tryst with romance. With O Sanam. How can he perform at such a small stage? May be he likes to do so. May be he does not feel the need to be on a stage that is worthy of his stature. So yeah, pity, guilt and confusion.

(f). I have almost closed on my goals for 2015. Top on that list is my health. Second is guitar. Third is running a marathon/ The others are same as that of 2014. Financial freedom, travel, writing etc. Again, more on this eventually as we draw close to the year-end.

That’s it.

Wrote this on 12.12.14. Published on 18.12.12. Why? I did not get time to work on this. Wonder how would the next book happen. #fml

The Life Triangle

Source: Unknown

Apologies for the rant last night. I was probably intoxicated by my inability to get things done and my thoughts were paralyzed by my financial condition.

Now that I have slept over it, it sounds like a trifling thing.

Actually to be honest, it’s not trivial at all. It is important. It’s one life. We live only once. And we better live it with peace, happiness and with friends and family while we are at it. What else is the purpose of life?

So, from where I stand, I think of life in three variables. Money, Health and Writing. Health is a larger theme encompassing physical, mental and emotional health. And of course, on top of these three are things like family, friends, relationships and other such things that make us human.

Let me talk about each now. Start with writing. Writing gives me pleasure. Though I am not sure if it can pay my bills. It can’t. Not right now. May be sometime in future.

Money is what makes the world go around. To be able to do nothing but write, to live in the mountains, to travel the world, to buy those gadgets, that car, it takes money. And apart from me, everyone seems to be making enough and more of it.

Health is probably the most important of the three. If I not in the pink of my health, I cant enjoy the orgasm that I get from writing, I cant ride that bike that I would’ve bought from all the access money I would have and I definitely would not be able to enjoy the mountains and beauty around it.

So I need to juggle these three tough balls (of money, heath and writing), while walking on a tight rope that is stretched on the poles of relationships, friends, family and other emotions.

I can’t fall down for sure. And I don’t want to drop these balls either. It’s like being on the guard all the time. It’s like being that circus artist that has a million eyes watching him; and he has to perform, even if he is unhappy or unwell or bored or something. There is no way he can let his guard down. There is no way he can not perform. And worse part, ~~you~~ he can’t even say that he’s bored or tired or unhappy.

Damn life!

There was a time when I thought I could manage all three and get things done. I did it for a few days. But I guess I was wrong.

I can’t manage all three. Leave three, I am having tough time figuring just one of the three out.

How do you guys do it?

I give up!

I give up. I can’t do it. I can’t. And I hate myself for it. I just don’t have the time to do it. Or may be I don’t think its important enough for me to do it. Or may be I don’t have the balls or perseverance to do anything. Or may be I am loser. Or may be, I am a quitter. Isn’t that why sgMS left me?

Irrespective. I can’t do it. I am a loser.

Second year running, despite all the effort, intent and determination, I have failed to reduce my waist or my weight and I am going to lose a bet. Bet is not important. Important is that I can’t do a shitty thing like losing weight. Especially when for a large part of the year I had nothing else to do. Fucking kept procrastinating. And here I am. Fat, old, unhealthy, lethargic all the time.

Of course now I have something to put the blame on. And yeah, that’s what I am doing. Getting off easy by putting the blame on someone else. I am not owning upto my shit. I am merely putting the blame on someone else. My job. It keeps me busy and so I don’t have any time to do anything. Guess this is what they mean when they say that it’s tough to juggle a day job and a hobby on the sides. Hate the fact that I have to slog the entire day, sitting behind a desk to be able to make ends meet. Hate that I’ve given the control of my life to someone else, willingly, so easily. Guess this is what that Apple TVC from 1984 spoke of?

The world, is fucking unfair. Life, unfairer than that. I refuse to play thy game. I want out.

Really do.