Neurotic Entropy

It’s my first day at work and I fussily spent it with the usual ‘assessment’ of the place. It’s a new environment, new chair and table, new bosses and new ‘work mates’. I painstakingly learned a lot from the past (and learned things the hard way!) and from that, I made a promise to myself that I will be ME this time. I will kill the remaining esoteric thoughts, and my sole concern now is to be able to be me as me without the masks.

I am so used into creating an image to make conversations bearable, but this time, I won’t do that. I want to be like water, least resistance – not influencing people at all… I want to be able to seep through cracks, flow through fingers, can’t be held and yet, firm enough to lift a boat. I will no longer try and climb walls just to see what’s on the other side, rather, I’d stupidly bash my head on that wall and secretly bleed.

It sucks to do something that your heart isn’t really into, but the problem with the heart is that it ‘misleads’ people into the ‘wrong’ path. It’s sometimes amazing to follow the heart, if and only if, we are living in a society where kings rule and poets are understood, But to live in a cynical and materialistic world where Schadenfreude is the norm, it’s gonna be pretty tough to be a poet. It’s in fact a dog-eats-dog world (must be said while giving an exhausted look while raising hands in a giving up manner)

During my break, I sensed some work mates approach me and i knew that they were trying to start a conversation. I tried to be polite but found myself just nodding or saying no. Perhaps they saw that I was activating my force field and so they went away, which again, left me at the smoking area alone.

As I looked at them walk away, I felt a little envious of the two gals. Why can’t I be like them? I really want to but I just can’t seem to do things right when it comes to conversing with people. As I have said, I don’t want to wear masks anymore and deep inside me, the emptiness is getting bigger and bigger. I don’t know if I can fill up that void, I am longing for a REAL friend. I guess people just can't hear the faint whispers of my soul.

I was once told by a very special person that I can have friends if I stop pretending. (well actually, she said Lying – I just don’t want to use that word cuz it’s fudging painful to remember how she sees me that time....) Anyway, if I don’t wear my masks, I will be scaring people away. If I try to be me, I can’t help but hurt people without giving much of an effort. It’s really not that I want to hurt them, it’s just that I unconsciously hurt people as proven in so many occasions now. Loving (or liking) can't be learned. I can’t force myself to like people. People can do a lot of things, they can learn limitless skills but i am firm in my stance that emotions can never be learned. (Though many thinkers say that we can condition our emotions, the mere fact that there is an artificial source of that emotion, it's no longer authentic. It's more like the case of a super athlete because of steroids.

Sigh... I need a friend, but this in itself is very problematic. Me stating that I need a friend to make sense of the world around me is still predicated on sub-reasons and unproven assumptions that I will indeed find meaning when I befriend people, secondly how can I befriend people when I already have posited that I won’t wear masks (given my nature as ‘just me’) which again will only upshot to an infinitely regressive series of justifications, and lastly it’s a vicious circle – a cycle of wanting to be me without being me. Ha! Take that Münchhausen’s Trilemma!

Pathetic… I miss thinking.

And Fudge! I really need a cup of coffee…

A Blank Verse Poetry

I ran this morning. Gray sky, nothing special. Weather that doesn’t force you to feel anything. Usually, I wander without purpose. Today, something stopped me. Time is a trap. We pretend it’s limited, but it isn’t. So we rush through it—steps, choices, life—until it all blurs. The small things disappear. The smell of earth, the quiet air. Gone. A song got stuck in my head. “I’ll stop the world and melt with you.” Unwanted. Persistent. How did it get in? Maybe fate. Maybe nothing. I don’t believe in destiny, but here I was—stuck in the sound, stuck in a loop. The world paused inside me. I didn’t move. The day went on. Hands trembled—not from connection, but from the weight of existing. Scars on skin—maps of past failures. Nothing clean, nothing clear. I touched a cheek. No softness. Smoke? Habit? Grip loosened—like sanity slipping. Wanting to let go, but afraid of the emptiness that follows. I kissed a cheek. A stupid move. A laugh broke the silence. A glitch. A mistake. Coffee a...

The Slow Death of the Familiar Lie

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The Tension Between Hope and Despair

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Fragments of the Quiet Mind

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