I always feel that my raison d'etre for a happy, satisfied life is writing, and sometimes it feels like just another excuse. I can be happy in more other ways too. Only if I could dish out more ideas!
My life is sort of going through a mini-upheaval. I have a stable job, I get a stable salary of 15 k each month. Still happiness is eluding me.
I don’t sense conviction in the promises that I make to myself while in office, sitting before the computer, regretting the place I am in and envying those who have made it big. Those promises, I feel, are mere sympathies and lame hopes that I give myself.
Having like-minded friends would have aided me in coming out of my shell and show the world my confident side, but I think the universe is conspiring against me. Time and again, I decide and get my spirits high and time and again, it makes me falter. Sometimes I just fall flat on my face. All of my hard woven strength comes undone. I retreat into my shell, dwell in self-pity, go back to work with a sullen mind.
I have scraped through all this while. I fall, I stumble, but I don’t give up. I may despair one moment and the other one the universe will find me girding up my loins, pretending to be unabashed and this is the most endearing quality I adore and admire in myself.
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