Tag Archives: monotony

Banal

There are times when I envy people their happiness, their joyous lives, pain free, carefree; superficial and shallow, perhaps lacking substance, yet happy. I sit at cafés, alternating between hope, despair, exuberant bliss, pessimism, sudden highs – wind through my hair, night lights, rings of smoke – and then I look at other tables, people laughing, eating, talking about mundane incidents from a mundane life, and it all comes crashing down near my ears, like waves crashing on a shore at high tide. I envy their normalcy, their ability to take life and just live it, without struggling to find answers for questions which have no answers – the reason for our existence, the meaning of love, an escape from the dry monotony dragging us by. Suddenly, I haven’t the slightest idea what I am doing there in that café in the midst of happy faces, so I overdose on caffeine and blow smoke on their faces, silently cursing them for having most of it together. I wish to be free of this eternal struggle with myself, the endless moralizing, philosophizing, rationalizing, and bouts of utterly bleak despair. Everything seems bleak. Get me out of here.

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Breaking patterns

I have a little nightly ritual. I turn off all the lights, put on some Warren Zevon, light a cigarette and walk around in my underwear searching for some inspiration. A pitch dark house fascinates me. It puts my brain on a hyper-imaginative mode, especially after alternate doses of Murakami and high fantasy IF games.

But this night knows it’s going to be a long one. There’s that appalling number 25 looming bright, an impending quarter life crisis, a sudden fear of death, a bucket list getting longer by the minute, some thousand books to read, a hundred things to learn, and the seconds ominously ticking away…

I used to wonder about people who have spent entire lifetimes perfecting the making of a shoe, or a watch, or bread, for crying out loud. Didn’t monotony hit so hard back then, or is it just generations getting more restless? Perhaps those people are the ones who finally understand the deeper meaning of life, not us soul-searching nitwits who will never really be satisfied.

As for me, I know I will always be making and breaking patterns just to create news ones all over again. It’s almost scary that I’m this easily fooled by my own ever changing self.

In the past two weeks, I have developed a new pattern. I wake up at exactly 7:38 am, and it always interrupts an exciting dream. It amused me at first, but now it pisses me off. Perhaps, sleeping at 5 am will break that pattern…