Skyscraper

When the smoldering black cloud approaches, coupled with lightning and storm, I do not seek shelter. I stay out in the open. I let the rain drench me, I let the lightning strike and I let the storm rip me apart.
                                                                                   

Welcome to my thoroughly messed up life. I’m emotionally drained out, and physically I feel like I’ve slid down a black hole that has shattered me into innumerable and irreparable pieces of rubble.

This blog post is going to be a long and depressing one, or otherwise. I’m not quite sure of how or what the ending is going to be. I do not have any blog-worthy ideas floating around in my head right now. I’m just being flooded with millions of pertinacious thoughts from all possible directions which will probably make me resort to ranting and venting my bottled emotions.

Pardon me if I seem too awry.

Okay, so the one thing that bothers me immensely is being unproductive. Then why won’t I just get my lazy bum to work, you’d ask me. Well, it’s easier said than done. You see, I’m stuck in a dead lock. I can’t work because I’m too sad. I’m too sad because I don’t work. And when I’m sad the entire universe and hundred other parallel universes must know. I can’t put up a fake façade and mask my pain. I suck at concealing my emotions and this affects the people in my life: my roommate, my family and my small circle of real friends who actually give a damn about my well-being. But I’m selfish person. When I’m undergoing this unfledged misery, I become presumptuous and vary of others’ feelings which make me look like a terrible person. I don’t do it on purpose, I inevitably transform into this   cocky, shallow person. I seek solitude, abruptly cut-off contact with people who intimidate me and spend most of my time curled up in my bed wallowing in self pity or watch funny videos on YouTube that makes me laugh my socks-off and imbibes happiness in me, for a brief period of time.

After the storm has wrecked me completely, I wake up to find out that I’m not dead. I slowly try to wiggle my fingers and toes and I try to move my hands and legs. The pain is tremendous. I gather all the energy I have and try to stand up but I fail. I’m not a loser, I tell myself. I try standing up again, only this time, I don’t fall. I rise like a skyscraper. Tall and elegant.

And then one day, like today, I realize that I don’t want to be this person anymore. I’m not going to live a life of going-to-do, I will get things done.
I might not be able do anything revolutionary, but doing things I love and following my dreams without expecting much and coveting success will be enough to revolutionize my life.