I feel terrified. You would feel reading this page that I am one unhappy soul. But that’s not the truth. I only write when I am desolate. I use writing to get the poison out of me when I have no other way.
Now is one such time. I am sitting at my home. Blissful, because I am at home. Angry, because I have to leave tomorrow to go back to the grind.
Suddenly, that uncanny feeling has crept up on me. And I feel terrified, trepidated. The feeling which tells me I made all the wrong choices in life. That mathematical certainty of the fact that I am the only one responsible for my unhappiness, not destiny, not others, not fate, not God, is beginning to eat into me.

This newly realised responsibility is an ugly thing to bear I tell you. It’s been hours, and I am already going down under. I feel everything has been sucked out of me and I am floating in a dark space for eternity. I know nothing is ever going to be alright because all the choices have already been made. And even if alternatives can be found, am I ever going to trust myself to choose again, with such huge examples of my wrong choices already stacked up in front of my eyes.

I want to stay happy. It’s not too much to ask for? It sounds clichéd, but it’s the most honest thing I have ever admitted in my whole life. Everything boils down to that simple one line: I want to be Happy.

I have money. I am not doing bad by worldly standards. I have a well paying job, nice education, and I probably would be married after an year. But somewhere in between all these events there is this huge black hole sucking in all of the air out of them, making them into deflated shapes floating about aimlessly around me. I am scared of them.

I don’t like getting up every morning exactly at the same time , going exactly at the same place, laughing exactly like everyday on the same jokes of people around me, pretending to fit in somewhere I wouldn’t be found dead given a choice.
I never thought simply living through life would be such a chore.
There have been books on how to be happy. They all say: Follow your heart. What do you do when your heart gives you false directions? And later regrets its own mistakes shamelessly?

I give up everyday. I feel lost and feel hopelessly impossible to carry on another day. Then I go to bed, wake up next morning exactly like the day before and go to office to pretend to fit in.