Sitting here with my tummy happy after dinner and my heart vacant for joy, I feel I’m in a fucking shithole. Life was going on pretty neutral but then I got over eager and bit more than what I could chew. It only lead to destruction of my still developing sense of self. Buddha really did hit the mark when he told us to act without any attachment to results. Even Bhagavad Gita says that. A simple guy who has no interest in religious shit what-so-fucking-ever, even he is now taking out wisdom from religious text, how amazing it is. How damn ironical life is, now I realise once again. Outside, there is wind blowing at a regular pace. Inside, there is lava of melancholy flowing at a remarkably slow pace. I welcome you to feel my inner turmoil.
I was involved in a number of things that I wished to do but never did. I had talked to a number of people regarding a number of things out of which only a few were genuinely fruitful. Rest was all crap and took away my mental peace. I took back all my commitments from folks with whom I had planned to work with. I don’t have to do a lot of things half-assedly when I am only suitable for a few things full-assedly. Being the jack of all trades and master of none is a strategy for fucktardship and makes jack a shitty master as well as a miserable trader.
I am writing this piece of not so great artistic importance after a really long time. Since my last blog, I have written one poem and four pages of my feelings in a notebook. The poem was dedicated to somebody else, so that doesn’t count. My feelings come and go and that’s pretty ordinary, that doesn’t count either. In short, I didn’t pay heed to the art of writing that gives me immense joy and contentment. I gave up my precious time to unproductively plan for shit that I didn’t even care about. I want to live a life driven by purpose and vision but these pseudo purposes make me feel shitty about myself. I gave up all those plans and chose myself to stay mentally calm and to strengthen my existing vision.
Other than this I feel really bad over not being able to release my carnal desires in a way that is pleasurable. What the fuck is so much fun in delaying pleasure for tomorrow when your body wants to have it now. A wise man said that we have primal desires, middle age institutions and modern technologies. I’ll mould it – We have reptilian desires, mammalian emotions and human judgment. That’s what ends up making us feel bad over the decisions that we make in our lives. I have taken a break from jerking off until I am back on track in my life. Also, I have planned to not plan any motherfuckin thing and live in present embracing the ambiguity in uncertainty. That last line was real killer. I’m not that bad of a writer after all.
The story of my life is as follows –
For that innocent child who lives within longing for a dream
A vision encompassing my present guides me towards the greatness within
That virtuous man with a smile on his face opens his arms to embrace a child
I hug him for it was that same future me who I envisioned to be!
From now on I have made it a point to do things that give me joy and contentment and guide me to where I want to be. Rest all is secondary work and what really does matter is primary stuff.
I’ve not written any fucking stuff for my novel. I haven’t devoted any damn writing to myself. I have jerked off to romantic movies’ lovemaking scenes. I have
procrastinated on work that I had to do. I have spent lonely nights reading erotic stories. I have slept when it was time to go to exercise. I have given up exciting events because nobody was there to accompany me. I have done a lot of stupid shit over the course of past few months. Now, I shall be more accepting of myself and take care of my needs and wants. A wise lady once said, you have to become the person you want to have in your life before that person actually arrives.
Ultimately, it is my own future self who gets to experience the rewards of my present day’s work.