You heard the previous account of mine describing the disappointment from the recent advancements in the life of a friend. Now when I look at the incident, an admiration flows for her. She is mature enough to take her own decisions and live her life based on her own terms and conditions. For someone like me, that might seem like amelioration to next level of existence. But on deep introspection just one thought was knocking at the back door of my head, am I ready for something that big?
My fickle character, my childish squabbles and my emotional attitude begs to differ. I’m no way ready for something that big and how can I, when I still prefer ice cream over healthy dinner or a fight with oneself over nap time or my the total disregard for hygiene with clothes ready to be thrown into washing machining that still occupies major portion of space in my room. On close observation, one may find a man-child. Oh wait… a man-child preacher.
I guess I like it that way. My twenty-hour work shifts, my constant nagging for project completion or my frequent clash over thesis direction with my professor is something that I love. I love to be the lone wolf and I know as long as I’m alone there is no problem big enough that I cannot overcome. It’s just that the failure I face every time with the results of my efforts makes me contemplate where my life is moving.
My constant complaint about the life and all life forms is just another way of shredding the first sign of responsibility that I may be trusted with. It’s not that I don’t like doing what others expect from me, just that I hate to let them down. What I fail to understand is why people put their faith in such a fragile persona? Whatever the reason may be, it’s the loss of people entrusting me with work and not of those who have completely lost all hope from me.
“If you don’t take me seriously, you are a fool. If you do take me seriously, then you are a bigger fool” Words from my arch-enemy.