This is my safety valve.
When I need to dump my stress, there seems to be none to whom i can confide.
except this piece of paper here.
Anonimity has its own benefits.
I hate to live out my life. No one loves me, no one trusts me. I suddenly feel so alone, so left out.
After achieving everything, nobody seems to have a respect for me.
What, then, is the use of achieving more?
I find everything so futile nowadays.
My PhD is probably going to be a failure. My first paper is yet to come out. Is my social life any good. Well, it is non existent. And I am almost given up the hope of falling in love.
Anyway, I am universally disliked. So, I dont see a reason why a girl will like me also. Yes, there are a few girls, who would indeed like to be engaged to me, but their reasons are so petty, I would not even call that love.
It turned out to be an incoherent rant. I guess that is what it started out as. I need to get married or get a girlfriend atleast, otherwise I see no respite from this situation. It seems to be a hopeless sitation. I want to run away from it all. I want to take a holiday, a break. But where to go, who to go to. I just want to cry in somebody's lap for sometime. A moment of solace, a kindly hand, thats all I want. I want to confess to somebody...
Yes, I know that sounds very christian. Probably so dostoyevskian. Probably thats what I need, religion! But I am too much of an atheist to ever believe in one, or maybe like Raskalnikov, I too will start believing someday. I wonder now how man can live without a religion, in the same way I used to wonder in my childhood, how man can live with one.
Such are the puzzles of time.
At one time, I also used to wonder, why do people marry? Now, I wonder, how can people survive without marrying? They must not have any secrets. Or do they shout their dark confessions to stone walls in the depth of the night, while the world sleeps. Do their confessions all pile up inside their hearts, and overflow with tears, or do they suffer silently, like me.
I have too much of a vanity in real life, to even acknowledge that I am alone, that I need a friend, that I am suffering terribly. I could probably never write this passage from my real blog. Oh! how I wish I could!
There, I will keep on writing about high flowing philosophy, literature, politics which I do just because I am alone. Yes, that is the truth. Seriously. I would probably not spend my Friday night reading Kierkegaaard if I had a woman with whom I could enjoy a quiet glass of wine, and probably discuss mundane things. All the serious stuff is just to fill the emptyness of my life, to fill the void of a lonely night. How ridiculous will I look if I try to make these confessions from my real blog!
Anyway, I am tired of the world.
