3rd July 2019

I had no clue whatsoever about my life after college, not that I had a clue in college but there was a spark then, some sort of positivity. I could look at things in a way. And now, it feels my illness has and my circumstances have stolen that from me. My hands feel tied up, it’s very difficult to type the words here. My body does not want me to. There is this strong feeling within, tumbling in my flesh – telling me nothing will work out. Telling me that I cannot challenge my destiny or what the accident of birth has put it my lap, telling me that my illness will handicap me for life- physically and in spirit. For my entire fucking life?

Should I accept what this feeling is trying to tell me?

If you were in my place, would you have accepted?

Writing motivates me, in a way when I am writing, I am trying to bring out the better (positive) parts of myself out. I would not like my reader to see my vulnerabilities, my metaphorical scars and tell them where it hurts.

Actually, I don’t really mind telling – it’s just that I am confused if it will ever stop hurting or not. If things will get better or not. Of course, within I know they will. However, my horoscope keeps telling me that virgo’s are very pragmatic. So pragmatically speaking, I am unsure if I will be able to fight every damned thing that is not in my favor and be happy.

Actually, I know the answer to my question. The problem is that it has been hurting so much, for so long both physically and emotionally that I have started looking at happiness as an end, rather than it being a verb – a state of mind. I have started looking at it/ have conditioned my mind to look at it as a status quo which I will achieve only after removing certain hurdles from my life.

I would lie, life has been truly fucked up and I have been fighting bravely.


If you are reading this, trust me, it makes me immensely happy to share my sorrows and joys with someone. Especially when I have chosen a life of solitude in a new city. The last time I had a good conversation with someone, a conversation with a human being physically present next to me was five days back. It drives me crazy at times. I feel so strange, living by myself in a 1 BHK apartment and I don’t even go to the hall because its so hot here and there is construction going on there since months. Such is life. Et tu, life! Haha.

I miss sitting by the balcony, you know. In winters, letting the sun enter in and wake me up. I miss it. Summers are not so much fun this year. (yawning)

What should I do now?

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