Sunday Blues

It’s not like I didn’t have a choice. I could have slept. I could have not thought about this over and over again. But, that’s the thing. Thoughts don’t come with residence permits. They are squatters in a mind that honestly just needs a long bout of sleep. Not like I have slept well at all this year, but I am going to want the impossible again anyway. That’s basically all of our entire lives anyway, isn’t it? We always want to go beyond what we see. What is beyond this? What is beyond the road? What is beyond the next stop? What is beyond the bear sitting on the rock beyond this stop? Jeez. No one ever listens to Shahrukh Khan.

I am just trying really hard to take away the focus from the fact that I don’t know what I want right now. Everyone is going to groan and try to shut me up. But, the truth is that not knowing what you want is one of the most poisonous things to happen to your mind. You don’t know where you’re going and you’re not even sure if you want to keep walking. Sometimes, I think I should just sit here and read all the books I can and watch all the movies I can because well, fuck money.

The things I want require patience and a lot of blood, sweat and tears. Khoon and paseena, bhai log. Success doesn’t come to you if you’re too busy checking for blackheads. Someone should tell my mother that too. I guess there is just a large part of me that wants to crawl into bed and slip into the same dream again.

I have a recurring dream, or dream pattern rather. At my most insecure, I dream of being cradled by someone. I have had these dreams since I was 16 and I usually wake up either refreshed or wanting to weep my eyes out. Either way, something fixes on the inside. I am sure science has a great way of connecting the dots to my Electra complex, low self esteem and high BMI to explain this phenomenon. But, I am just going to say that science cannot explain how the cradling makes me feel like I live in an impenetrable bubble of warmth. I am invincible there because I am being held. So, body cushions can suck it. Dumbledore wins.

I am going to try to free fall into the depths of my bed and hope I cannot be retrieved from glorious slumber. Mondays await me and I am genuinely not interested.

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