Note: I tried something different, never thought I would use this as a platform to write about my own state of mind but I am doing so now, below is a reflection of my writing, myself and the big step we all are about to take into adulthood.
I have succumbed to it. Not the fact that I now need to write my thoughts down, I have been writing what i feel in a moment forever. Since the days I wrote childish poems, since the days I used to to write stories about things going on in my life. I remember in 3rd grade I wrote a poem about hating school or specifically the school I was going to, the time in 5th grade I wrote a story about finding a magical ring which can solve all my problems, like something which can just wish away all the issues I was dealing with.
I don't know, in retrospect they seem childish or forced, forced because I wanted to stand out. I still have the book I wrote those poem and stories in, I keep them treasured like some sort of memory, a collection of who I used to be. A collection of things I wanted to be. In third grade I wanted to be an archaeologist , I'll be honest, that time in all my innocence, I didn't know what it was, what an archeologist did, I just wanted to dig out bones while others dreamt of being astronauts and superheroes, again stand out in a group of people.
We are all looking for something like that aren't we? a thing, a gimmick which can make us unique - but in reality and more importantly coming to face that reality we learn we just aren't. We just aren't that special, we just aren't that unique we thought we were.
Anyway, since that childish time I have evolved I have written about things which interested me, I started writing about the cunning and manipulative nature of the world and it gave me some pleasure - I was getting views - some sort of validation or what i thought to be praise for my world view but in my attempt to display the cunning and manipulative nature of the world, I yet again succumbed to the very thing I was writing about - cynicism.
Now no matter what, I found a reason to write - like some sort of purpose and sadly it has come from a point of anxiety, a sort of need to vent out my thoughts in the written form. I don't think this will matter, make me stand out or even provide any purpose. It's just a way to write down what is going down within me.
A friend told me dreams have meaning, they represent a stressful and more importantly disturbed side of you. I have been dreaming (when i can sleep that is) about the end of the world or rather what is more interesting is my lack of concern and sort of contentment with it. I dream about natural disasters and fatalities and one thing is common in them my lack of concern or emotion, I seem to be standing there and soaking the moment in as if I am alright with it, as if my attempt to stand out has made me emotionless that I can't relate to the single most common human emotion - fear. I don't know if it has got to be with the world we live in, but it seems to be all I can dream of.
Then I think back to my childish and innocent stories, they all had one motive - a negative theme. It always had to do with my drive, my need to resolve my issues. My hatred in the school poem I can easily relate to the fact that I was going to a boarding school, away from my parents and away from the life I had built with my friends. I always said I wanted to go to that school but now I think of it, I had no choice, I got in miraculously and was asked, So do you want to go? from my parents and I did say yes - but what else could I have said? - No? No to my parents dream and expectations? We aren't ever given a choice, all decisions we make are fuelled my external factors, it's always about someone else's perspective or thoughts about our decisions, never about our choices. My second story about a ring which can transport me wherever I want - same time when my family moves to Singapore and I am left alone in India. So, in 6th grade comes another change - another move, leaving behind the friends I made in the boarding school - I hate that. It takes time to make connections with people and connect with them and for someone as nihilistic and difficult to grasp as me it takes longer than expected and that was the situation I was put in again. So I guess even in 3rd grade i was writing about things which personally bothered me - just internalised through stories and characters i was making up.
The weird part is, I thought that to be a win! A sort of accomplishment that my writing even then had some meaning attached to it but in all of this i disregarded the meaning itself. Anyway past all that, the truth is that i am at stage again - another move, another detachment from the life i have built here to another country, another foreign element where i have to start again.
Even though fresh starts feel needed and natural in some ways to me it seems like I am leaving behind a part of myself I put the last 18 years in making. Last 18 years cultivating and morphing into. That thought, that worry in the most surprising manner haunts me because i have always considered this move into University as a stepping stone, a climb to another floor in my life but what it more realistically feels like is that I am fundamentally and incrementally destroying the previous floors of my life to move into adulthood and i don't like it one bit.
I don't want to leave the bubble I have created of comfort and routine and move to a chapter of my life, a chapter which like my dreams and writing is dark and cunning and manipulative. We live in a world plagued with horrors and for the first time it feels like we are leaving the bubble we have created and stepping into those horrors. So what do I want? I don't want to lose the person I have cultivated myself to be, I don't want to lose the connections, friendships and relations I have made with people and enter this horrific and dark world which none of us had a role in creating, I don't want my decisions to be a result of someone else's view on them and most importantly I don't want to be detached from my family once again.
I just want to live in this bubble where everything eventually works out, a bubble where I don't have to be caught up in the hardships of life but that seems impossible and in some ways it feels like that step has already started since I was 16, since I changed as a person and my connections and relations changed. This might be a new difficult leg of life for me and many of us but feels like a necessary one.
So i only hope that in this new world I enter I can create a state of calm and bliss for myself, a place where I continue to being the person I am, keeping the person I currently am alive but most out of anything I just want to write something not fuelled by the cunning or manipulative nature of the world but fuelled by hope, prosperity and bliss.
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