The difference between you and me


It must’ve felt like dropping out of the school of life after completing kindergarten.

I’m 32, in a place where I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t want to conform; instead, I want to learn to focus on myself for a while. Over a year ago, I’d spent almost ten days living like a female monk that sincerely had nothing to say to anyone, neither do I have anything to say now, except for humming my favourite songs, looking for meaning and good stories to feed my imagination.

I often wonder what if I was living the life of a female monk. I’m not missing out on anything, apart from good stories and good music. I don’t like what others like, but at least I’m open-minded enough to take part in it, share my presence and smile for two seconds. It almost feels like a favour without one in return. And that doesn’t feel right. Perhaps I’m trying too hard. I do stop when it gets too much. I dig a hole and bury my head, hoping that a perfect storyline will save my day or even a philosopher’s quote or last words.

I never understood people that couldn’t be alone. Whenever I feel something similar to loneliness, all I need is a text message or an email to remind myself that I’m not alone. But you don’t get in touch with friends just because you’re sad or alone. I’ve been guilty of it lately. I hadn’t spoken to them when I was happy; I haven’t been sharing happiness with them, and they only came to mind when I was sad.

I’ve been finding it hard to breathe. When I close my eyes, I see the colour red and a dark red line. It looks like the horizon for a while, and sometimes it looks like a huge wave coming at me, so when I open my eyes, I lose my focus.

Broken sleep, headache, earache and hair loss (again), and if anything – my seborrhoeic eczema is getting worse—so much scab on my scalp. I can’t stop picking at them. And then there’s blood underneath my fingernails. I don’t want to use hydrocortisone if I can help it. I’m usually good at keeping my skin’s conditions under control, but not at the moment. Other people have it worse, though. Weight gain is common, too. It also doesn’t help when you’re stressed with an office job. Despite everything, I’d say this job is a good half-office, half-retail position. It’s a small company with a small team. It’s just that we’re all new, and the learning process takes months.

I have no eye for detail to keep errors out. My lack of concentration and composure makes everything difficult. I’ve not been sleeping, but I’ve been dozing for the last two days. I’m surprised that I can still function at work, which has become my second favourite place after the gym. I do overtime for free, so I don’t have to go home too soon. But apparently, my boss is paying me for some OT. I hate the radio music at work–repetitive bullshit with poor lyrics and appalling radio hosts supporting musicians that can’t sing or write songs. But apparently, we have to play it to suit the public.

If there is anything I have in common with the people around me, it is that deep down inside, I’m nocturnal, too, but I’d use the night to be creative and not drunk. However, my work hours turned the nocturne into an early bird. Even before I started working, I had an early start in the day – I went to the morning classes at the gym and felt terrific. I like starting the day with a good, motivating energy, whereas going to the gym after work feels more like a de-stress session more than anything. Nonetheless, it keeps me sane and makes me feel that I’ve contributed to something positive for my mind and body. I will continue to do so every day, no matter what anybody says. Apparently, I’m still dark and negative, which I don’t understand. I’m just trying to save myself, so I’ll be able to save somebody else. And saving yourself is not easy.

I’m not lazy and never have been. I admire those who are, though. They are never in a hurry. And they’re having more of a good time than me. (They probably have a high IQ too.) A good time for me would be to go hiking, for example, but it seems so difficult because I can’t drive to the mountains myself. I’d need to invest the money in transport. Others complain about being broke but would spend their paycheck on goddamn booze. I shall spend all the money I have on a goddamn ride to the mountains.

I must be the only one looking forward to winter. Why? Simply because it keeps all these damn fuckers inside, that’s all. I would love to see the autumn out east, though, to remind myself that it is a chance to make things better for the future when a period comes to an end. Let go of the past and think of new ideas to bloom for the next year. But in terms of seasons, people don’t think like that. Perhaps that makes me a poet; I don’t know. And this is how I’m lonely in my head. But it’s ok.

Hopefully, I’ll have a new tattoo by the end of the year and get to release my novel.

These are good reasons to live.

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