Hold me tight, or dont

Foreign

I’ve been suffering from #IDGAD syndrome this week. It’s been a long time coming; especially when you’ve been working 12-13 hours a day and that’s not enough to satisfy your boss and other people. Add to that, the realization that you don’t really matter much to the people who mean the world to you. Lot of words get exchanged and you pat yourself on the back for managing to keep your cool and managing others by catching your emotions by the neck and strangling the life out of them. And in a weird moment of irony, you realize the only thing left that didn’t happen was a bird pooping on your head as you crossed a street or two.

And then I found myself in foreign territory. For the first time in my life, I found myself wanting some form of temporary or permanent amnesia that would enable me to forget the world outside me and retreat within. And then I also realized, the schizophrenics and the paranoics lived in worlds of their own. And I had to wonder was the price of insanity that high to pay? If I could design a world of my own, where everything was hunky-dory and everyone was on cloud 9, what did it mean to me if someone called me insane?

By now, I know I’m thinking loopy thoughts. And I’m smiling to myself recognizing this. And then this amazing song by Fall Out Boy comes on. One that really strikes a chord. And then I realize, that what my life is missing is: drumroll, please – irrational joy (among other things, but never mind). Not a big fan of irrationality, it doesn’t really do wonders for me. But joy for no reason? Yes, it’s my secret revenge against the whole entire world.

 

 

 

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