210

I usually dislike all forms of pep talk because they rarely break through my shield of pessimism and cynicism. But this morning, a random lady in my gym said something so nice to me that I couldn't help but be motivated for, like, five minutes. Which is a lot for me. And she said it all so matter-of-factly, not in the way most people talk in gyms, with their high and mighty advice about weight loss and strength and bench pressing. She wasn't even trying to motivate me, she was just making conversation and stating the obvious, which I guess we sometimes miss because we're too busy wallowing in self-pity? And she said something that Sona used to say a lot. "Life is too long." As in, why are you worried about running out of time, life is too long and there is enough time. I think more people should think like that, instead of stressing about life being too short.  

I don't know. It made my entire morning, and even though the rest of the day was really crappy, five minutes of non-suckiness mean a lot to me in present circumstances. 

207

I just spent the last two hours reading old posts about the last time I had moved back home from Delhi because of reasons in and out of my control. I thought I'd cringe, but I did a lot of laughing and felt bad for 24-year-old me. She was really struggling. Possibly more than the 28-year-old is struggling right now, because I don't have an abusive boss this time around.

But all the emotions, all the resentment, it's all still there. How do I always go back to square one? It's a mystery but not a good one. I guess it's just lack of progress on my part. I don't rise to the occasion, I don't carpe diem. I never carpe diem.

My current boss is a sweet hippie-type woman who says stuff like, "let your mind heal your body". I try not to laugh in her face, but I often fail. I have been dealing with some severe health issues in the last one month, and the last thing I want to do is heal myself. That's what the fucking doctors are getting paid for.

My mother thinks I always fall sicker here than in Delhi because my heart is not in this city. Which... could be true but sounds like a load of shit. Because my heart has no idea where it is. Is it in Delhi, living an independent but drifting life? Is it with my ex, who can now never be with me but refuses to let go? Is it in the MAC store of DLF Promenade, where everything would magically get okay? Who knows? I don't.

I feel like I've forgotten how to blog. In fact, I just wrote to a friend that I have completely stopped blogging. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to change that. But all the self-righteous angst of my 24-year-old self reminded me that chronicling how shitty my life here was made it 0.1% better, and I wanted to see if that would happen again.