Counting…1,3,4. Breathe. 5,8,9.

“Tick, tock on the clock…”

Grab laptop. Blank word document. How much I hate that sight. Stare.

Write. Pen it down.

What’s bothering you?

Forgetting to write things on the to do list.

The obligation to spend time with a dear old friend who has come only to visit me.  I love him, but why can’t I get myself to be at peace?

Why am I so angry?

Is it because Sandy isn’t following up on work properly or the several other people who are unprofessional at work.

Is it the fact that I am being forced to share my flat with an old flame? An old flame, who simply gives too much drama for being around.

I need my space, I guess.

This is supposed to be the worst thing I ever write.

No structure. No framing. Rant. Continue.

“That tonight’s gonna be a good night.”

Stop the music already.

Is it the fact that the launch got delayed way beyond expectations?

The launch. The dream. The screw ups and the huge loss of money.

How I have been waiting for this launch.

Uncertainty. Yes. That’s the word.

Chasing vendors, fabricators, the civil engineer, the security head, the policemen, the packaging guy, the uniform guy, the new team member, the lawyer. Why can’t they all just work effectively and make everyone’s life simpler. Why does a dog always eat the homework or why does someone simply assume they have superpowers?

Why? Why? Delays, uncertainty, confusion. Being hassled. I hate you all.

I want to go home. Meet that woman who simply lights me up.

But then again, do I?

Why do I want her? Maybe if I had just let it be, life would have been simpler.

I want these things and I don’t know how I do or what I should do with them.

The launch, its always on my mind.

Her, I am…lost.

Receptiveness, she had mentioned is a key factor and how right she was.

I had sworn, no more chasing sparks and then she came along.

Someone always comes along. Is it some pattern I follow?

I used Alex,Seema,Frankie all as a reason to run away from something.

I am an escapist with abandonment issues I have been told. And maybe got myself to believe too.

I am not escaping from anything now. Or am I?

And as pathetic as it sounds right now, I don’t have the courage.

The courage to walk up to her and say, “I simply love talking to you. More than anything else. Even more than chocolate ice cream.”

No. I am not going to do that. No. no. no.

Not another rejection. Not another reality check.

No more uncertainty.

I know I can’t block that with work but I can do that with personal equations.

But then again, no equation comes with a guarantee. I am being stupid.

Or maybe I have just had too many setbacks in the last two years.

Lets see. Counting…1,3,4. Breathe. 5,8,9. Nine.

Isn’t that a number too many now?

Maybe I should be happy that I struggled and learnt a lot.

Only if it were that easy. These nine blows, one after the other made me weaker. I keep loosing belief and fighting back.

Right now, here I am, criticizing every little thing I do.

Unclear, unsure and unhappy.

Maybe I am just fine. Maybe.

Uncertain maybes.

Someone opens the door to the balcony. A chilly breeze.

A hug to myself.

Screw patterns. Screw everyone. Screw judgement.

“Thoda sa dard tu, thoda sukun”

Maybe I am high.

Maybe this is how one gets over a writers block.

And this is certainly how I let it all go.

Into a black hole.

This word document.

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Sayuri - a small flower of Lilly, lover of languages. Advocate of sustainable and safe menstruation, co-founder of 'The Project Amara'. Fond of all the artistic things; flowers, poetry, stars, books and of course, her.

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