It’s a good day to write hard.

Most of my days are prescribed to be started at 6:10 in the morning, the exact minute to wake up in order to not be late for anything. It’s not like I snooze the alarm and never make it to my 8 o’clock lecture, oh never, nope, not me. Na. Da.

And so yes, like ..everyday, I got up on time, like everyday, and attended my 8 o’clock lecture, like everyday. Today was totally not the 1st time in weeks that I had made in time for my 1st lecture, ha ha. And surprisingly (unlike the rest of my narrative so far) the lecture was quite okay, I wasn’t thaaat sleepy and in spite of wearing a hoodie I was very comfy and not hot and bothered, which is an important component that decides how my day goes.

Which is WHAT this post is about!!!!!!

Because if you know me (and you should, coz I’m fab) days are important and how they go is important because existential crisis is something that is on the tip of my tongue, like an ulcer I can’t quite get rid off, and while it doesn’t ache ALL the time, one (aka I) do get tired of talking with a lisp. So the sun was great today, even though it hadn’t risen all that much when I was in the train, it was fiiiine. I met a school friend and awkward his and giggly ‘what are you up to’s were like extra sugars to my tea, because it wasn’t a burden. I always like when conversations are not  burdens, when you can look back at it and be okay. Just okay. My lectures too were quite fiiine. I mean, I really didn’t learn much (or at all) but it wasnt tiring, it didn’t make  me want to die or question the education system, the world or medula oblongata, things I think about very often during these otherwise strenuous lectures.

I think a lot has to do with one’s attitude. All this while, I did depend on people to be happy, which is essential I admit. But I’m learning that you have to know to be okay on your own. To make do with all you have and be okay. Today I went on a walk all on my own, way to the fountain and over to the bookstore that serves food as well. I bought a new book, ate some mac and cheese and completed 70% of my Anna Karenina and then I walked back. Then I stopped to pee in college, cause no way was I holding my bladder for an hour on a local train. And then I spent another hour and half talking to a friend and a professor and it was the most brilliant time ever. A lot of moments I just go too hard on my self, turn every interaction into a performance and grade myself and I forget to live. And I just wanted to stop. I just realized the kind of friends you should have are the ones who don’t make you make an effort at being you. I just wanted to sit on a bench and do my own thing and not be afraid of saying the wrong thing or too tired to make a move. And today I finally realized that I’ve gotten there. I’ve made peace with myself. Once upon a time I did want to fit in with certain types of people, want to replicate a certain life I would try to adapt to their way of speaking with a shrill high pitch girly accent that was alien to me, but I have learnt to be quiet and letmy gruff ‘clearing my throat’ noise speak for itself and it’s civility.I cannot cope with people who haven’t gotten there in life yet and who are still pretending to be someone they’re not but I hope one day they realize, because it’s a beautiful thing, not to try hard.

Because I have tried hard, over and over again, and it makes me cry because it got me nowhere. I felt- to certain extend, still feel like a loser for trying to hard and believing so wide, but that was just me figuring out the treasure map and sometimes the goods are not hidden under the big ol’ X marked there. I hope to reap the fruits of all this scavenging and pirating one day  because for a myopic one eyed sailor, my heart is still made of crystal and shattering it  is totally not on my homosapien agenda. 

When bad thoughts come to me, just like before writing this post, I remind myself (just like Tinker Bell will) that you can only fly with good thoughts in your head (and a tiny bit of pixey dust, yes.) My professor told me that during her farewell she ran home because she didn’t feel comfortable being there, didn’t feel like she could fit in. And all I could think of was that after three years if a place and people made you feel this horrible, they didn’t deserve you and nobody, nobody should feel this way.

So this a note: This a good day to write hard. Because I write when I’m happy. You should do the things that make you happy irrespective of everything . And you should have days that make you happy. And it all starts with that one morning, when you don’t hit the snooze button and decide you can.





(I sounded like  a commercial to promote 8 am lectures. Oh well. You’re welcome, autonomy.)





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