I am writing this from a Starbucks and I am telling you that there is no better feeling than this being able to walk-in to a store, sit on a comfortable chair, hike the laptop on a table that’s just at the right height, and a connection that works! It’s magic. Actually, it’s not magic. It’s more hygiene than anything else but when you live (or want to live) in Goa, these things look like magic!
So, morning pages.
Yesterday was interesting. I was like a vegetable and thugged it out. I binged on Brooklyn 911 and fuck it’s amazing. Exactly the kind of humor I want to have. I also saw Pride and Prejudice in parts. Fuck it’s been done so well that I actually pined for the freedom and opportunities to create things like that! Ok, too many fucks in one sentence.
The thug-life did not end at the binge. I actually went out with a few friends for dinner and drinks. No, I don’t drink. Yes, I ate like a mad man. The place where we were at, there were so many people that probably would put pre-covid parties to shame. The other shameful thing I observed was that kids as young as 16 (they looked like 16 or younger) were smoking, abusing alcohol, and living their hedonistic life. Yeah yeah, I sound like their father or that disgruntled uncle that you can’t seem to ever please.
In fact, in the spirit of living in public, here’s a confession. I am one of those that is never satisfied. I want to be divinely discontent but I think am devilishly discontent. What this does is that it leaves me asking everyone around me to push themselves to do more. And I often border on being pushy. And that means I am often not so kind when I talk to people. You know that question that Indian parents ask when you score 98%? Am that! So yeah. That. Why do I bring this up? I don’t know. It just came up when I wrote about kids indulging. I don’t understand how people do not work and while time like that. Vegetative-ness is not for me.
So that. The house still remains in mess. To a point that I dont even want to start cleaning it. But then, me being me, I did start with it. At least the bedroom. The problem with the rest of the house is that there’s no space to even walk. Yeah. Mumbai houses. And the boxes that contain all my life’s things. Imagine. Life reduced to a few boxes and eventually an urn of ash. And not even that if you decide to walk into the forest (the way I want to go, when I go). Fuck reminds me of Carl Sagan. Do see this.
Oh, I have been sending some “writing tips” to a people on Whatsapp. I am not sure they work for people but I really enjoy writing those. In case you want in, you can join this admin-only group.
Guess that’s about it. I know I have more to say. I know I should say more. I know there is more to morning pages than a quick journal. I know I know a lot. I know I dont know even more than what I know. I know am merely indulging now and have stopped making sense a long time ago. I know. I know.
Over and out.