It is perhaps not the easiest feeling to come across. This feeling of not being content at all. All throughout this day, I have confronted a feeling of abject loneliness, further exacerbated by a feeling of not amounting to anything. It feels important to state, that there is a need to unlearn what has been learnt to stop masquerading myself as the “right person for the job”. The truth is, that I am no expert. And while I might fit the puzzle on some days, it is after all a facade in the garb of knowing things.
As far as ‘life skills’ are concerned, there is none to show for. Experience after experience is a failure, destroying relationships left, right and center without cooperation. We tend to forget that even though we are self-centered, others are too. And when there is no compromise, no two people can truly sue for companionship, in the garb or friendship or love.
It does not quite feel right when we tend to feel very immature in comparison to someone else. This constant comparison is another highway to disappointment, aided by an urge to be something which we have not exhibited as of yet. But we swear to ourselves, that we will one day change. We never quite do.
I remember, one of my favorite subjects in school, was English literature. And while my therapist believes I am venturing towards Nihilism, I tend to ponder about suicide in the romantic sense. The idea of it. Not the action (the theatrics of which I have performed in the form of drunken knife play) , but just the idea of not having to struggle another day of loneliness is quite attractive.
For some, doing without a partner bodes well. For some parents are enough to aid the process of companionship. Alas! not for me. Maybe I do not have gratitude. Maybe, I cherish life a lot, but nothing compares to completing the puzzle. Maybe all these years I truly understood that I was not happy with the story of Ishaan Sengupta. The story was not interesting enough. The narrator of the story feels quite ashamed, not of the potential he knows he possesses, but of the abject hopelessness there is to anything in life. While everything works in harmony around. While people enjoy their daily soap operas, while lovers laugh with each other in the park, old grandmothers kiss new born babies, children run after squirrels, and parrots run after each other, the narrator and his life, might seem to be the best from the outside (with money, prosperity, love from parents, and all the goals one had since childhood completed) there is yet, not a feeling of reassurance and happiness. There is no direction to move towards. There is no happiness with what one is doing.
Investing in another identity seems pointless. And what does one do without investing in another identity? Maybe enjoy the process of exploration? And when it is not enough, switch over to another process? Perhaps the loneliest fact, is that no one ever reads this blog. They read it because they admire the identity I have on instagram, constantly entertaining others for attention.
Lacking attention, Lacking love, Lacking purpose, Lacking the knowledge of the self. Lacking everything. And trying to find alternatives to puzzle pieces which decided to abandon you, as you forced them into it.