2 October 2007

Mulling...

Something I typed out the other day. Saturday to be precise..

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Parents left today. We’ll talk on the phone, of course, but it seems that the last vestiges of my old life have been severed. A new life to look forward to. And yet I’m tense. I know I’m lucky. Many people don’t get to where I am. Some do, but they can’t get the money to fund it. I’m terribly lucky. Terribly. I’m in Merton. Mer-fucking-ton in Ox-fucking-ford. I’m in a room with a carpet and running hot and cold water. Imagine what I’ll be able to do in a couple of years time.

But there’s this sinking feeling. I should be overjoyed. But I’m so bloody depressed it’s scary. Really scary. It’s like the world’s caving in around me. People here are nice. But everything is a haze. I can’t take it any longer. I once told someone that I knew I was going to be sad for the rest of my life. It’s true. I can’t live. The moment I’m alone I feel like it’s all completely useless. That everything is wrong. That this wasn’t the way it was meant to be. And it’s all gone wrong due to something completely outside my control. I don’t know if I could have even done something about it. It’s all so bloody useless. I hate feeling useless. And there’s not a bloody thing I can do about it. Like I’m on a road. And I don’t know where it goes. But I have this sinking feeling that it goes somewhere I don’t like.

I know I’m depressing myself even further. Maybe I want to depress myself in some weird masochistic way. But I’m not that way. Really. I don’t like being depressed. But it happens to me all so often. More so now. When everything has changed. In such a short time. My brother and I haven’t talked in days cause he’s in Bombay and I’m in Ofxord and I just got access to a phone. I still don’t have access to the net. This place is a medieval joke. Busses don’t even run on time here. And they charge people from India 8000 pounds a year more than the obviously richer kids from Britain and the EU. It doesn’t make any bloody sense.

And there’s no one here. No one. Not a soul I can speak to. Back home, I could call someone up and cry. It’s Tuesday. I could go to Pegs ‘n’ Pints and have some serious fun. Haha. Serious fun. Oxymoron. Ah screw it!

4 comments:

  1. it gets better. and you're not alone. you can call me anytime. or sms me and i will call back. cheaper than india, innit! :)

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  2. Yes love, you arent alone.
    Youre just at a great distance. However I think and bitch at you mentally often. Never think you have been forgotten! You are far to annoying to ever be ignored!

    *HUGS*

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  3. Yeah, you are a terribly lucky man, no doubt, but sometimes, a person's feelings are just not in sync what's happening in his life and how he should be feeling.
    This is probably the price we pay for being.
    You know you have a life that some people would die for, but then there are moments when all that just doesn't matter and you'd rather be running a tea-stall in an obscure corner of an obscure town than living this life. Maybe it's the fear of not being successful, or maybe it's plain desperation to have someone by your side, or worse still, that you simply don't want any of this. I don't know, there could be several other reasons--different for everyone. But sooner or later, or even much later, things start to fall into perspective. One can only hope it happens sooner than later.

    Oh, and another price one pays for being is listening to people like me ramble. :)

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  4. David and Elie7 March 2008 at 20:55

    Put down the gun Saattvic! We love you.

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