HALF ASLEEP -HALF DELIRIUM

It's four in the morning right now.
I am awake not because I wanted to wake up early, but because I am yet to hit the sack.
I am currently the victim of a thousand blood sucking mosquitoes.
And I am at work.
I am waiting for some compilation to happen.
I am not bored because these mosquitoes don't allow me to be.
I am half asleep. I am crapping.
I remember. It must have been more than a year ago that I wrote a post called 'Gibberish from the half dead'. I am not as lost to sanity as then. But close ;)
Don't bother to expect words ofwisdown, enlightenment or disillusionment.
Don't bother to expect a diatribe on the latest in current affairs.
Bah!! I am goin for two movies this weekend!! Yippeee!!!
I am also reading a MHC called 'Night time is my time'. It's not all that great. Lately she's become a little too 'obvious'. Not in who the killer is. I can't guess that. But it's irritating when a writer can get as subtle as a sledge hammer and not just carves the road for you walk on ( here, read) but also ties a leash to your kneck and drags you along it like a sack of potatoes!!
Whatever.

RUT

Why is my each day identical to the next? Why is it that I go through the same motions every single day? Five days of working looking forward to the weekend, the remaining two planning the next five days. The same motions, the same monotony. I'm not bored.But I am wishful. Wanting more out of life, but not knowing what it is that I want. Seeking for something, yet not knowing what it is that I seek.Not loving every moment of my life, yet not knowing what it is that I would love. It's not that I hate the way things are. It's not that I'm always wishful. When I work , I'm obsessed with my work. When I laugh, I think of nothing other than what amuses me. But there are these blanks. These gaps when I start to think. And then I feel sad.
I remember this song called 'Sunscreen' by Baz Luhrmann. . or however his name is spelt. There is this line in the song that goes, ' The most interesting people I've known at forty, still don't know what do with their lives'. I'm a long way from forty,but still.It's no consolation.

That doesn't make you stop wishing that you knew what you wanted from life. I see the musicians who love their music, the writers who can't stop imagining,the actors on stage who love living another role, environmentalists who adore their monkeys, my co-workers who live, breathe their work and I see myself -drifting. Not loving what I do, not hating it either. Sometimes stopping in the middle of the day and thinking. What is it that I'm doing out here? What would I really like to be doing. I listen for an answer to my question.The answer is silence.A deep dark silence.So I stop these these thoughts and continue.Continue in this rut that I am in.

THERE NEEDS TO BE A REASON

I haven't written in my blog for nearly a year.
There used to be a time when I was obsessed with my blog. I would make it a point to try writing atleast once in two weeks. Even if I had no idea what to write about. The very obsession to write killed my desire to write.I'm glad. I'm glad that I stopped feeling this intense need to keep my blog updated. I'm glad that I haven't felt an iota of regret for not writing in all these months.
What makes me write today? Because I wanted to. And that is reason enough for me.To do something because I want to. Not compelled. Not judging. Not judged. I don't need that here. This is my space.Mine.Mine alone.
A place no one can crash into unless I permit them.