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17 days from now will mark the 3 year anniversary in Bombay(yes I prefer the B word over the M counterpart). And suddenly I feel completely spent. Although it's a momentary feeling probably. But I still can't put my finger on it. Whether this feeling can be attributable to this city and its ability to suck out the life force out of you or whether this is some part of growing old. That's the problem right...you can't perceive parallel existences to pick and choose the best one out of it. It's always gonna be the something that you can't exactly opt out and have a say in.

The problem is the social equation is slowly losing relevance. And the relevance is being lost mostly because of being knee deep in it. I'm unable to experience a life without the social connection. And its weirdly asphyxiating. I weirdly long for an isolated existence again. And the problem is I've been here before. It's actually the loop I was in before I got to this city. And when I got to this city I spent the most loneliest times ever. Living alone in one room drinking myself to sleep...eating food at the corner of a table at some small restaurant every day. And yet when I moved to a place with actual human beings I longed back for isolation.

It doesn't actually make any sense. Cause theoretically the state of loneliness is way awful and social situations are still a challenge that can be tackled in a way. Isolation is freedom to an extent...but then later you feel the need to express your feelings to a person.

The debate of staying in the city can range from the topic of isolation to the importance of marriage in a society for me. And the fact being that on paper social presence does have way more advantages  than isolation...and yet the grass would always seem greener on the other side. It's got to an endless debate mode now and it's starting to get tiring. The even more catastrophic part is that I'm in no need of a conclusion in any way. I really can't figure out whether it stems from the sheer laziness of proactively approaching the situation or the idea of closure is a scary prospect as finally in some way it would drain the ultimate need for a debate and consequently end in an existential crisis.

I still can't grasp existentialism. I really am in an oblivious world for now. And my main mission is to be completely drenched in work. Thats the only saving grace at times. I like working, I don't necessarily like my job. I like the busy aspect of it in which your mind seems focused and deems emotional equations secondary. It's like I'm building up to be a robot. But somehow I'm looking forward to that prospect.

The concept of love and longing is slowly again losing meaning for me. It's pure emptiness I feel. I hope someone enters my life and changes this perception. But till then I'm an arrogant prick who knows that these are hollow empty promises that people keep. Pardon my acute cynicism but it's my bubble that I've pumped air into. Waiting for it to metaphorically blast soon.

I still can't narrow any of my decisions down to final point. But my escapism seems so lucrative right now. The thought of running away to another life seduces me. Even if the other life is practically shittier. It's this feeling of pure escapism that actually scares me at times...it feels so natural that at some point it feels emulated. A paradox in a way, but yet, it is what it is.

I'm draining of reason right now and relevance has slowly been lost. It's probably the 3AM morning I'm typing this at the prime reason.

Well no one knows yet. Nobody would have an answer.

We. Are. Alone. 

Cyclic

Morning. Alarm goes off.
Multiple snooze abuses.
Moments later you grope for the light to shine in.
Pupils adjust to the sudden rush.
Contemplate the day in a few seconds.
Generalize the day in terms of good and bad by the way you wake up.
(Wrong side of the bed maybe?)
Am I late? Rush.
Am I early? Sleep more and get late. Time does know how to fly in hibernation.
Brush. Feel the few neurons of your head get stimulated with the acidic "freshness" of your toothpaste.
Stand beneath the shower like a frozen statue feel the cold water trickle down your body.
Stand. Dry.
Ready.
Turn to the watch. Seconds passed by.
The rut of commute. The desensitization of long minutes/hours and the dense populous contorting inside boxed wheels.
We suffer, yet we barely know it...conditioning matters.
Rut in the office.
Work. Sit. Yawn.
Count the productive gaps and the "breaks".
Prepare charts and sheets.
Type like manic fanboy in front of a screen.
Clickety click goes the fingers tap in synchronised choreography of eyes following the mouse.
For a moment the second hand of the analog clock freezes when you notice it. Physics?
Wrap up. Contemplate the day that just passed as the totality of your existence.
Have I made a change to this world today?
It's the way home but there's no drive that makes you want to necessarily go there.
Yet it's a race and reaching early can be an achievement unlocked.
Wading through traffic of humans and cars. Millions around but this story is about you. The one you.
Wipe the last of the plate onto the sink...taste buds confirming the repetition.
Its a symbolic representation of the day coming to end. The music diminishes gradually to a lull.
Feel constricting time quickly tapering off any sign of quivering activity that would act as an unforeseen epiphany. Life changing?
Lie in bed. Evaluate. Question self worth. Deem yourself lazy.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
There's a rockstar ending to this and it's coming soon. Isn't that what stories teach us ?
The senses shut down. The world around whizzes to a black point.
Fin?