What do you do when you don’t want to write, yet want to write? It’s not like there’s nothing to write about. Maybe there is something that could be written. But I’ve lost that touch, if ever there was such a thing. And all this can be called is rambling. I have lost a lot of things in the recent past. A lot of things have changed. They don’t come separately and conspicuously to the mind when called, but certainly a lot of things have changed. What has been the net effect? Have I grown happier? Or sadder? Happier, I guess. But right now, I would say sadder.

What do you do when there’s something burning away inside you but you cannot speak up? Will you compromise and let it be? Will you speak up and let actions take their course? I don’t have guts for the second choice. I don’t have the guts for a lot of things. I am being made to realize that. But I am cultivating guts for a lot of things. And I guess I can see it a little. But the bottom line is that I’m not feeling hundred percent now. I don’t remember when I did. Sometimes, rarely, I feel suddenly hysterical like when I was a kid. Only to be followed by a period of brooding.

Is this going to bring back those times of blackness? Then maybe it would be bad. I remember, hazily, that it was bad.

What do I need?

The problem is, I am always feeling there are so many things I could be doing that I am not doing. I am not being productive. I am not working my ass off and producing anything worth sitting back and looking at for a while. I am not learning enough, learning with enjoyment. Cramming before the exams is not learning.

For that sort of work, you need to be in a good mood. And the things that are supposed to be looking after my good mood are not working out.

There is something called personal space. I am suddenly reminded of that American man and the Japanese man at the party, with the Japanese man subconsciously chasing the American around the room.

It’s not that bad.

Am I saying that because I am making way?

1Life.