Despite the false bravado, I am very scared. I can sit tight, take it rationally, let things take their course, wait them out. I am very scared because I know I wouldn’t. I never have, and this uncontrollable urge in the pit of my stomach to act NOW is unrelenting.
I have given myself about a week, to mull things over, to hear things out without reacting, not leak out anger or intentions. It’s not happening. Have already bubbled over to a friend. Shouldn’t have. I’m seething at every little word of pity.
I would have to vacate the house immediately. Wouldn’t be able to pay the extremely high rent, an indulgence at the best of times, for even an extra month without the salary. Would have to immediately act. Injured pride, a straight back won’t pay the rent.
Ned Stark was cut down. For treason. To appease a kid.
I am very scared because there ARE no gods. I’m very scared because the cheery optimism that used to carry me through youth “Achhey logon ke saath achha hi hota hai” has died.
Achhey logon ke saath danda hota hai.
I am very scared that the ex was right. That I run away from problems instead of facing up to them. That I shall forever just run. I’m very scared that all those appraisals at various work places were correct. I can hear them in my head.
I am very scared that my belief in myself all this while notwithstanding any of those voices has been misplaced.
In my formative years, I was very fond of quoting Madonna’s
“My drive in life is from this horrible fear of being mediocre“.
I am very scared that my life IS mediocre, has always been mediocre, and I have just never seen it that way, when everyone else has. That the continued struggle would never yield anything. That none of this is ever showing even a way, a route to take. That I am just stupid. Seriously, really, unmistakably stupid. And that there is a laughter track in my life, where I am the joke.
I am very scared because I eulogize Hunter and his living, but the fact remains that even he shot himself.
I’m very scared because this running from one job to another, from one city to another, from one relationship to another has become a pattern. That even recognizing this has brought no change in behavior or results.
I’m very scared because I am getting old every day. I am 31, and watching a younger lot occupy the waves and realizing that I am not the young rebel, but the uncle-ji now chills my spine. I am scared because I am neither here, nor there, and there is no plan. Somewhere along the way, not having a plan was the plan. In the fitful bravado and self belief then, it was all swallowed. I’m very scared now because I don’t remember how the last six years have passed. And why oh why have they been so painful, to serve what end?
I’m scared because I am ashamed of myself.
I’m scared that even writing this post is a pitiful appeal to my own dumb-fucked ego.
I am terrified!