Heidegger is absolutely right. Melancholy in itself is not a pre requisite for good writing but it does help in the expression of self in a creative manner. It is 1.44 am and I have so many better things to do but I lie here awake thinking, nay, obsessing about the future.
Do you know how things on the professional front go so very well for people but when it comes to their personal life it just sucks. Well, my life is just a leetle bit like that right now. Everything is in its place except for the love life. You ask why? Obviously, not because of lack of choice. But because I am a Disney fan. As much fun I have reading academic literature, I love Disney. And therefore have lofty expectations as to how love should be and feel like.
That’s not just it though. Awkwardly inconsistent, I think I am. Sigh. Life was not supposed to be this way. At least on the social front. I was supposed to be this centre of attraction and life and soul of every party. However, as it turns out, all I want to do is read a book, spend a quiet afternoon, listen to some instrumental and be around my family. Actually be alone. This is new.
Why the sudden urge to be alone?
Every now and then I have these odd wishes. I feel like packing my bags and going on a road trip. No plans. Just leave. Life is complicated and maybe I am complicating it. But what is the point of life if it is simple all the time? I don’t really mind pain. Pain endures and gives life it’s meaning after all…
Reading, writing and listening to music is so idyllic. Does anyone else feeling like packing their bags and leaving to an unknown destination? Is this what growing up feels like? If this is how it is then I don’t think I like it very much. Thank God for Disney, some magic somewhere.