feeling trapped is absolutely the worst thing in the world. lately there’s been a constant tightness in my chest that I can’t shake and when I feel a desperate need to write that’s when I know I’m in real trouble.

‘the problem then,’ she said, as she took a drag of her cigarette. ‘The problem is you think you’re better than everyone else.’

I’ve really been enjoying doing yoga lately. Something about giving yourself all to the mat – yoga requires so much focus and being in the moment that it’s almost meditative. Even when I’m pushing myself and sweat is dripping down my face , it’s still meditative. I didn’t realise how much of a relaxant it was until I found myself craving it after a stressful few days at work. Yin Yang I guess, you don’t miss the peace until you don’t have it, and then when you do you crave the rush.

longest entry in awhile

You know, I miss the good old days of blogging. Coming home from school and working on my lj entry. It was always a good outlet for me and I thoroughly enjoyed reading my friends’ updates. Connection to someone’s inner thoughts and by extension their psyche, I think that’s what I miss. The blog is just the medium.

Also it was entertainment wasn’t it? Just like reading a book. Now it’s all pictures pictures videos. That’s all fine and dandy but a photo isn’t words. The pen is mightier than the sword, that was what someone famous said.

The consumption and production of media has changed, and that’s not a bad thing, but there’s something distinctly fake and plastic about it. It reminds me of cling wrap. You try to pull it off to get to what’s wrapped inside but the cling wrap just sticks to your fingers and you can’t get rid of it. And then you end up doing it too which I have.

Anyway maybe I’ll update this space more regularly. I miss writing , even if it’s just for myself nowadays. It’s still scares me to put so much of myself out here on such a public space, so we’ll see. I’ve been reading Susan Cain’s ‘Quiet’ about the power of introverts. It really struck a chord with me. On one hand, I recognise a lot of an introvert’s traits in myself but I do feel like everyone is on a spectrum and I’m definitely tipped slightly towards extroversion.

In other news, I’ve just uprooted and moved to London. It’s a jarring change (especially work wise) but it’s what I’ve wanted for so long. Also in an entirely masochistic way, I wanted to see if I could hack it. I’ve never made the easy choices in life, which strangely gets me the applause, but honestly I wish I could be content with you know, just living in the routine. I guess some part of me still thrives on instability.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve wanted to throw in the towel. But it’s not who I am and what I want. Not ready to roll over. Tomorrow is another day and I’ll be ready.

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When I get deep into reading I’m always the most composed. I feel most like myself and that’s important. I’ve never thought about it like that before but I associate books so much with identity. It’s fascinating, reading what someone else wrote.

i want to shut this down but i can’t bring myself to. years and years of memories and I’ve always been better at writing than saying anyway. i can never say what i really want to, and after awhile i stop trying. but here the words flow easy, i think clearly. words have weight, but even more so when it’s left their mark on paper.

all day long it’s talk talk talk, i’m so tired of it.

I need to do better.

had a day to myself today. got off my flight from India at 6am and said f it. I’m going to take an extra day of leave . Slept in till 1, had a late lunch of prosciutto sandwich, ate it all quietly by myself in a corner, and then got some coffee. heaven after restricting myself to no coffee for 4 days in India. Did some yoga later, ran into 3 friends by coincidence and then the day ended. Funny how quickly time passes. I have a ton of things to ponder, decisions to make, and stressful things to consider, but it was nice to take a day to be in limbo. I’ll worry about the rest tomorrow

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Also, I’m turning 28 next week. That’s incredible. I used to care so much about my birthdays but now I really don’t. I think this is what happens when you grow up and grow old.

Went for my 10 year reunion last night. Found myself repeating ‘ I can’t believe its been 10 years’ and thats true, it really doesn’t feel that way. It’s insane when I realize that some of the teachers who taught me back then, are my age now, and it makes me wonder whether I’ll still feel the way I feel 10,20 years from now. So much has changed and yet so much remains the same.

I look back really fondly on my years in AC because those were my formative years. My first love, first real life lessons of the world, the years where I had the most hope and so much joy. Those were the years where I was just on the cusp of adulthood and literally the world was my oyster. I could have done anything. Looking back now, I’ve come a long way from the person I was, but also, I’ve taken a completely different path from what I thought I would do.

It was really bittersweet to be back. I know I can’t live in the past but there was this longing to go back and do it all over again. but that’s the beauty of time I guess, I wouldn’t be feeling all this if I knew it would last.

this whole thing about finding ‘a purpose’… i’m quite tired of talking about it, thinking about it, sounding like a broken record to myself, tired of choice paralysis, tired of finding myself in paradoxical arguments all the time.

its a strange thing to acknowledge yourself losing your grip on reality. i find myself getting less excited about things, self aware enough to know that that’s not a good sign, but also self aware to know that there’s nothing that can be done about it. the mundanity of life is quite suffocating. if I carefully consider everything ..the futility of my efforts overwhelms me and that’s not a place I want to get to.

Life is just so absurd. I find myself going back to Camus – maybe I need to accept the absurdism of life, embrace it, and just like sisyphus , push my boulder up that hill, and imagine myself happy.