As this semester goes on, I’m coming to realise more and more how unfit I am for human interaction, and for any sense of friendship — much less anything remotely close to a romantic relationship.
I’m socially awkward, that part it’s true, I’m quiet around people I’m not too sure of, I don’t know what to say sometimes; I talk too loudly in others, and sometimes, I go too far with what I’m saying. But as every day passes, it’s not that it’s too difficult to interact with the people around me (because I’ve no trouble with that), but it’s tiring after a while. And maybe that’s because of the conversation I’m having with myself all the time.
There are days, many moments, when I wish I could just shut my door and shut the world out, but yet at the same time, I desperately don’t want to be alone. Everyone wants to feel needed, and everyone wants to feel loved; and maybe it’s the Only Child in me that’s been repressed all these years, but the pain is almost acute sometimes.
My dad once asked me if Sisyphus was happy, and I asked him why does that matter. He explained that Sisyphus was a metaphor for the human condition; just as he struggles to push the rock back up the hill every day, so do we have to carry out the routine of our workplace, our schools; just as he has to do it again and again, so do we — repeating till the end.
I didn’t agree that the two were the same. And I didn’t think that answering such a question would reveal any sudden revelations about the way that I thought about life, which I suspect was my dad’s ulterior motive.
But the more I think about it, the more as this semester goes by, the more I feel that every day has been bleeding into each other — the emotions and frustrations that I’ve sworn to keep locked up the day before, are back again and again and all I’m left is silence on all ends. And I wonder to myself, how have I gotten this way? Why am I feeling this way again?
I’m 20 this year, I should be through with this teenage angst.
And hence, I am unfit for any social interaction, whatsoever.
in the sunlight, the paleness of the day colours me and i am but an apparition