My emotions have been spastic lately. Not in a bad way—I’m not sad or stressed or anything like that—I just think that mentally and physically, I am finally beginning to catch up with myself. I knew this would happen. In fact, I was hoping it would happen. Truthfully, I’m surprised it didn’t start to happen sooner. But I suppose that’s the nature of being so busy in all facets of life – you don’t have time to really think, or feel. You just plow forward, moving through it as quickly and efficiently as you possibly can. And, as the past few years have taught me, if there’s anything I am good at it, it’s moving through things.
There is nothing about this life that I don’t love. But regardless of how happy I am – and I am happy – there has been so much change, and it’s hard not to feel affected by it. Sometimes I lay awake at night and just review the past 6 months. I think about the circumstances I endured, the places and feelings I journeyed through, and where I reside, emotionally and physically, today.
Last night I sifted through my old diary and was shocked by the hopelessness I felt. I expended so much time and energy into attempting to “fix” what I felt was broken. I felt isolated, stagnant and generally dejected. Nothing was really going the way it should, the way I had envisioned for myself. My career was slowing, my friendships were fading, I missed my home town and rest of my friends was far away. I was with someone I loved, who knew me better than anyone and who had been by my side through my life’s hardest moments, but I knew it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t happy. The relationship was one-sided and uneven, I would have made it work, but for the most part I would have lived my life alone. . Those feelings and thoughts came from me—was I really that forlorn? That unsatisfied? And was I really going to continue on in my life feeling that way?
It’s amazing the way life works out, and how circumstances line up for us when we least expect them. I would have accepted and put up with so much to preserve my relationship. But the one thing I refused to give up on was family. That was the trigger that I needed to change my entire situation—to make it better. And I did. Change isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. It’s the only way we can transition from Point A to Point B; the only way we can grow, and find a new life circumstance that suits us much better, and makes us happier. Sometimes we have to give up the comfort and familiarity of a secure situation, and leap forward embracing the unknown. Usually, though, the unknown offers fresh and possibly even superior options. Options we never would have known existed if we’d stayed within the snugness of our too-small lives. Though I can’t help but miss that world at times, especially when I realize just how dramatically everything has shifted, and the pangs of change strike my core, I have done the best possible thing for myself by moving here, and by starting over. My old life no longer fits.
.I am really ready for this new life, and all the feelings that will go along with it
>>>>>>>>>????...
i have no words
Words will come.Words fill my head
, my heart fills with tears
.my eyes with pain,
my conscious with her memory
and then the words come.
The art that has always inspired me, in remembrance of her kindness- of the most true kind- keeps me moving, and thinking, and wanting to live more fully, more passionately.Without her- I am not me. Without us, There are no words to offer a broken heart, a kindred soul, a burning flame, a love so deep, only words in writing with paper and pen with intricate letters, spellings and curves of dots and lines- would make it suffice. Would keep the art she lived for alive, the passion, the drive, the intensity to gain a knowledge of that desire and a mind waiting to be fulfilled, wanting and insisting to enrapture. It will stay within us. It will be ours, something I know bringing comfort -that you knew what it was like , it is now ours. For the same kind of pens and books of empty papers were also yours - They wont become a has been as long as I remember the flame, it will go on. When I think there is no more to give- the words amazingly start to flow - to no avail, in not knowing where they come from my hand wont stop moving and writing, something it never thought it could do. Just as I thought I was about to give up, she pushes and I feel her here with me and she is here telling me to live. She is strong writing these words for me, and the tears don't stop, and the flow keeps going and I am scared because I don't know where they are coming from, and the pain and hunger in my stomach is curling now but I am told to ignore it and keep fulfilling. One day, just one day...The power that is in those words start to subside and the passion remains. It is a command I cannot ignore. I will keep going for her, and for me. It will be. It is meant, and I surrender..to you.Thank you.
Words will come.Words fill my head
, my heart fills with tears
.my eyes with pain,
my conscious with her memory
and then the words come.
The art that has always inspired me, in remembrance of her kindness- of the most true kind- keeps me moving, and thinking, and wanting to live more fully, more passionately.Without her- I am not me. Without us, There are no words to offer a broken heart, a kindred soul, a burning flame, a love so deep, only words in writing with paper and pen with intricate letters, spellings and curves of dots and lines- would make it suffice. Would keep the art she lived for alive, the passion, the drive, the intensity to gain a knowledge of that desire and a mind waiting to be fulfilled, wanting and insisting to enrapture. It will stay within us. It will be ours, something I know bringing comfort -that you knew what it was like , it is now ours. For the same kind of pens and books of empty papers were also yours - They wont become a has been as long as I remember the flame, it will go on. When I think there is no more to give- the words amazingly start to flow - to no avail, in not knowing where they come from my hand wont stop moving and writing, something it never thought it could do. Just as I thought I was about to give up, she pushes and I feel her here with me and she is here telling me to live. She is strong writing these words for me, and the tears don't stop, and the flow keeps going and I am scared because I don't know where they are coming from, and the pain and hunger in my stomach is curling now but I am told to ignore it and keep fulfilling. One day, just one day...The power that is in those words start to subside and the passion remains. It is a command I cannot ignore. I will keep going for her, and for me. It will be. It is meant, and I surrender..to you.Thank you.
OlD FrIeNds .....
When I was a little boy, before I decided I wanted to try out public high school simply to become a good student, I went to a private school in T.nagar where I made a number of friends
I started at this particular school in kindergarten, and suffered through the painfully unattractive uniforms (of which I tried, unsuccessfully, to jazz up with sparkly and lacy cutoff leggings…), through the 8th class. I had always intended on finishing my schooling there, and I really loved it, but during the summer between 7th and 8th class, a friend convinced me to go to summer camp. Though terrified, I left home for the very first time (for 4 weeks!), and, despite my concern that I’d hate being away from home and cry daily like the homesick fool that I know I have it in me to be…I wound up having the best summer of my life.
Though I’d been wildly unaware, the desire must have been growing inside of me for quite some time because that was all it took to motivate me to switch schools. It made me crave something bigger. A wider variety of classes, new friends, big school dances, and of course, cheerleading in metro culturals. I had to the make the switch—I knew it was then, or never. And so, with just a few weeks of summer left before the start of the school year, my mom pulled me out of that school and enrolled in chittoor. The same high school my cousin attended many, many, many years prior (they’ll love me for that one!).
I was paralyzed with fear, and after my first day I was positive I’d made the wrong choice. After all, the friends I’d made at this school in chittoor(VDEM) were like scared-skin to me—I’d known them practically from then. And now…now I was the outsider with the funny clothes – What did they expect? I’d spent a lifetime wearing plaid jumpers and Monogrammed shirts!
I digress. A few months later, high school began to go just fine.It was all a great experience to say the least. But the one thing I missed dearly from my old school days were my family-like friends. It was hard to stay in touch. We were young, and our lives revolved around school, and the people in our immediate proximity. We didn’t drive yet, and our houses were all so far apart. I missed my best friend, desperately, but life just seemed to spiral on, and soon we lost toucjh in talking altogether. Not because of a fight, or anything bad. Our lives just went in different directions.
But last night, after 7-8 years, Harish and I got together for dinner . And we had the BEST time. We’d been trying to coordinate our schedules to get together since I moved , and we were having a hard time making it happen. Then, SUPER coincidentally, last time I ran into him and his mom in his apartment complex! There are cute shops and restaurants in his area, and we all happened to be walking around at the same time. None of us could believe it, and we decided it was fate giving us a good kick .
We sat for 4 hours catching up, laughing, eating good food, and becoming part of each other’s lives all over again. It was incredible—truly heartwarming—to know that a friend who made such an impact on my childhood, someone who I adored so much and spent so much concentrated time with, has turned into an amazing man who I still enjoy just as much. We picked up right where we left off (minus the braces and bad ----), and delved back into each other’s worlds with vigor and heart. There’s something so refreshing and real about spending time with friends who knew you back when, before you lost sight of your true self and starting trying to “grow up” and continuously transform yourself.
When we were finally ready to leave the restaurant, we walked out together and saw we’d parked in the exact same lot, right next to one another. Another crazy coincidence letting us know, once again, that despite the years passed and our different schooling and adult-life adventures, our friendship was, and still is, meant to be.
I started at this particular school in kindergarten, and suffered through the painfully unattractive uniforms (of which I tried, unsuccessfully, to jazz up with sparkly and lacy cutoff leggings…), through the 8th class. I had always intended on finishing my schooling there, and I really loved it, but during the summer between 7th and 8th class, a friend convinced me to go to summer camp. Though terrified, I left home for the very first time (for 4 weeks!), and, despite my concern that I’d hate being away from home and cry daily like the homesick fool that I know I have it in me to be…I wound up having the best summer of my life.
Though I’d been wildly unaware, the desire must have been growing inside of me for quite some time because that was all it took to motivate me to switch schools. It made me crave something bigger. A wider variety of classes, new friends, big school dances, and of course, cheerleading in metro culturals. I had to the make the switch—I knew it was then, or never. And so, with just a few weeks of summer left before the start of the school year, my mom pulled me out of that school and enrolled in chittoor. The same high school my cousin attended many, many, many years prior (they’ll love me for that one!).
I was paralyzed with fear, and after my first day I was positive I’d made the wrong choice. After all, the friends I’d made at this school in chittoor(VDEM) were like scared-skin to me—I’d known them practically from then. And now…now I was the outsider with the funny clothes – What did they expect? I’d spent a lifetime wearing plaid jumpers and Monogrammed shirts!
I digress. A few months later, high school began to go just fine.It was all a great experience to say the least. But the one thing I missed dearly from my old school days were my family-like friends. It was hard to stay in touch. We were young, and our lives revolved around school, and the people in our immediate proximity. We didn’t drive yet, and our houses were all so far apart. I missed my best friend, desperately, but life just seemed to spiral on, and soon we lost toucjh in talking altogether. Not because of a fight, or anything bad. Our lives just went in different directions.
But last night, after 7-8 years, Harish and I got together for dinner . And we had the BEST time. We’d been trying to coordinate our schedules to get together since I moved , and we were having a hard time making it happen. Then, SUPER coincidentally, last time I ran into him and his mom in his apartment complex! There are cute shops and restaurants in his area, and we all happened to be walking around at the same time. None of us could believe it, and we decided it was fate giving us a good kick .
We sat for 4 hours catching up, laughing, eating good food, and becoming part of each other’s lives all over again. It was incredible—truly heartwarming—to know that a friend who made such an impact on my childhood, someone who I adored so much and spent so much concentrated time with, has turned into an amazing man who I still enjoy just as much. We picked up right where we left off (minus the braces and bad ----), and delved back into each other’s worlds with vigor and heart. There’s something so refreshing and real about spending time with friends who knew you back when, before you lost sight of your true self and starting trying to “grow up” and continuously transform yourself.
When we were finally ready to leave the restaurant, we walked out together and saw we’d parked in the exact same lot, right next to one another. Another crazy coincidence letting us know, once again, that despite the years passed and our different schooling and adult-life adventures, our friendship was, and still is, meant to be.
It WiLl JuSt HaPpEn
Its the beginning of an end. The firstweek of August. Nearing end of summer. The beginning of... ( try and complete the sentence. do it for yourself).Everyday can be a new beginning. As cliche as it sounds- it is true. I find that once you make a decision, everything around you seems to revolve or contribute around that decision. In the cosmos, the world will favor you. Just have a positive outlook. Nothing is impossible. This can be dangerous for stubborn people like me. I believe in this, therefore if something is not happening the way I want it to- I force it, and I end up getting hurt and dissapointed. So I have decided to just let the earth work without trying to worry too much. Ultimately, I do not have the control. Lets learn to just let it be.
NeVeR In MoDeRaTiOn
Im feeling very jealous... Of myself.
I read my previous posts and realized... where did this boy go? Where have I been? Has the wind taken me far enough that I have forgotten? Did I really write all that?
And I envy dedication to writing of some people and itll be my foolishness wondering to be like them. Time does have a way of sweeping you up- the difference is recognzing when and how and why. Upon coming back down- your perspective is always different. Isnt life so weird and beautiful at the same time?
I do love to write. It seems natural for me to write everyday without heistation. I feel as though once I stop writing- I stop have a lust for knowledge and the desire to learn becomes somehow less. I fail to notice the things that I would normally write about. I fail to notice the culture and life around me as I used to ..-- because writing is truly a vehicle of expressing that which you cannot put into everyday talk. I dont want to just become part of the mundane everyday existance but I thrive being on the outside looking in. What Im trying to say is- writing allows me look at the world in a different light. Because I know that later on, I can document it all.. put it in symbols and words that I wouldnt have usually come up with if I didnt have the anticipation to come home and write about it.
Okay thats enough writing about writing. You get my drift.
Months gone by, and again I sit here wondering how it all happened. Where am I going. Where is this world taking me. Is is really up to me to propel it? Or am I still waiting on some miracle to just fall in my lap?
Wake up calls all around me. I often feel I am in a constant daze. Maybe I am not drinking enough coffee.
I read my previous posts and realized... where did this boy go? Where have I been? Has the wind taken me far enough that I have forgotten? Did I really write all that?
And I envy dedication to writing of some people and itll be my foolishness wondering to be like them. Time does have a way of sweeping you up- the difference is recognzing when and how and why. Upon coming back down- your perspective is always different. Isnt life so weird and beautiful at the same time?
I do love to write. It seems natural for me to write everyday without heistation. I feel as though once I stop writing- I stop have a lust for knowledge and the desire to learn becomes somehow less. I fail to notice the things that I would normally write about. I fail to notice the culture and life around me as I used to ..-- because writing is truly a vehicle of expressing that which you cannot put into everyday talk. I dont want to just become part of the mundane everyday existance but I thrive being on the outside looking in. What Im trying to say is- writing allows me look at the world in a different light. Because I know that later on, I can document it all.. put it in symbols and words that I wouldnt have usually come up with if I didnt have the anticipation to come home and write about it.
Okay thats enough writing about writing. You get my drift.
Months gone by, and again I sit here wondering how it all happened. Where am I going. Where is this world taking me. Is is really up to me to propel it? Or am I still waiting on some miracle to just fall in my lap?
Wake up calls all around me. I often feel I am in a constant daze. Maybe I am not drinking enough coffee.
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I'M NOT GREED by Santhosh Sagar N is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 India License.
Based on a work at www.poorboy1.blogspot.com.