::De Profundis Clamo ad Te domine::

 I cannot seem to cope with the fact that maybe I missed the bus. That maybe I just didn’t make it in life. I remember when time seemed more abundant. Like there was more of it. Back when life was not this twisted heap of confusing mess that it is today. Back when all these deadlines were nonexistent and I could spend an entire day not having to worry about the consequences that my actions would bring upon the next day. Not so long ago, I envisioned my future to be something that resembled a holiday postcard. Where everything looked perfect and beautiful; it was always sunny and all the people seemed happy. I never would have imagined that it would be more of a blank canvas rather than a postcard. That’s exactly what it is for me. The future is a blank canvas and life a bright room.

  I was never a sociable person. I do not know why I am this way. Was it because of the fact that almost everyone I ever loved or respected either vanished or morphed into mortals with the deteriorating course of time? Was it because of the insomnia? When you have insomnia, you are never really asleep and you are never really awake. All night you are laying thinking; am I asleep? Have I slept yet? I have gathered some theories but found no answers. I feel like the lights illuminating my room is slowly dimming; making it harder for me to see the canvas. And I cannot help but feel like I am the one who’s solely responsible for it. Every big decision that I have made in my life has all led me to nowhere. Like a road that endlessly circles the globe, Identical in every way but never repeating itself. At first I accepted the darkness. I accepted it without any hesitation or complaint. But as time passed by, a moment arrived when I was struck with the sudden realization of urgency; the realization that if I didn’t finish my painting on time then I would be stuck in there forever. The more I stayed in there, the more I wanted to disappear.

  I don’t quite know what I am yet or what I am supposed to do. There was a quotation made by George Cloonie’s character Lynn Cassidy in the movie “The men who stares at goats” that went something like “Your life is a river. If you aim for something that you are not meant have then you will only be swept away by the current. But sometimes life gives you hints, which if you were to realize would surely guide you to your destiny”.  I’ve tried smoking a cigarette, flipping coins, writing poetry, creating art, playing the piano, learning martial arts, playing various sports and listening exclusively to classic opera. Other times I go to the roof and gaze endlessly into the horizon letting my mind wander down the labyrinth. But nothing stuck. Nothing made sense. Nothing liberated me.

  I once smashed a toy car as a kid, just to see if there were little plastic people inside.“Gayau haara macha kaa” my mother screamed as I sobbed with my eyes open on a corner of our room. I never quite fit in as a kid. Ever since memory permits, I have been walking alone through the crowd of smiling strangers, watching them as they spoke of their perfect lives and gestured with their hands of things alien to me. Over the years I have managed to learn what those gestures actually meant. And that not everyone were as perfect as they wanted the world to believe they were. But still every day the strangers smile as I try to make my way to sleep.

  So now I wait; wondering whether I was meant to do something if anything. As Patric Bateman would say "But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis; my quest for answers continues to elude me and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself. No new knowledge has been extracted from my declaration. This confession has meant absolutely nothing."

-(25-02-2012)