You know one of those days when you’re sleepy, cold and tired but are stuck with a lot of work and an idle brain which would usually be occupied by music but you can’t have your ear-plugs on for fear of coming across as rude and hence your mind wanders and makes you consider serious life decisions that you really want to do or wish never happened.
This is it.
It is raining, cold and foggy. It is “London weather”. Yuck. I hate the cold unless you’re snuggled in a warm blanket at home with a good book to read, good music and good food. The central factor being “home”. I have 4 days to home before I return to hell-hole / the University. I never thought I’d ever call it that but that is what it is. A hell-hole from which one can’t escape or run away or obliterate. Somehow the sinking bitter feeling never leaves when I think of the place and the people there. I mean it is great to have a core support system but is that enough for someone who is say completely independent and abhors dependence in any form? I really do believe that there is something about being born on the 26th of February which makes you un-Piscean and so cold. I surprise myself sometimes. I also do realise that being that cold and numb, though life has turned 360 degrees still is what characterises me. I seem to repel people and any form of company though crave it desperately yet it takes too much and sometimes takes its toll. Maybe it is a phobia or fear.
Today, I don’t feel a thing and don’t want to for a long time. I want to go back to being the sane person I was a year ago. I want to in fact retrace my steps in law school and feel and live, something which law school with its hybrid variety of human beings has successfully sucked out of me or something which I allowed it to do to me.
As a friend once told me, “It is good to be numb.”
Probably. All I want right now is to set aside all the damn work in this damn place and in my head, let go off everything and go away somewhere like Ireland or Scotland or Texas, become a country honky-tonk and be taken care of as women in the South are taken care of and to never return.
Screw also damn expectations from everyone which includes people closest to you. It feels like someone has tied a tight stretched head band across my forehead and it aches. No seriously, this is painful. I wish I could say this aloud but societal norms and too much damn concern for each others feelings prevents you from screaming out loud or giving someone a dressing down like really, “How the hell you can expect so much out of me and aren’t you ashamed of even asking / demanding such things?” and “If you cared so much as two cents about me you would respect me a person and what I seem to feel / think at all times.” I do or at least try to.
Since I can’t do this, you reader, if you exist are exposed to those pent-up tirade and hurt.