Rant.

It has been more than a week since I last wrote here and today is the last day of the much awaited three day weekend. Keeping at it is harder than I thought.

I need my time to be amorphous, pliant in my hands, not chopped up with a rigid schedule. And on top of that I need space to write, which I don't have. I haven't had a proper space to write in for over a year now. The last decent place was my dorm room, but I didn't have much peace of mind there, much like now. Today I will complain. 

My day job intimidates me. It feels so much like carsickness. Knowing your destination or having a gorgeous landscape out the window does very little to change the fact that you feel like puking the whole way until that is the only thing you can devote brain-space to. Is this indulgence? Most probably is. But with my hyperhidrosis and the all-consuming anxiety caused by hyperhidrosis, I am unable to live to the fullest. I feel marooned here in Japan. I hate this country and its people. This place is sterile, I am away from family. (I live with my parents and my sister, but I much prefer living with them in India. Besides family is perima, peripa, my grandma, cousins) I am thankful for the money, but like I already said, I have to put up with the terrible carsickness and it's terrible, I want to cry.

I want to go back to last week. I want to be back on Marine Drive. I want to be back with Basanth and I want my brain-space back. Saturday I had three breakdowns and hit the machine when I wasn't angry and dejected, Saturday we went on a trip that was more driving and little actual fun. Sunday, hit the machine and went to the movies to watch Jurassic World. 

I spend most of my time in front of a laptop but because of HH, I can't type normally and when I am home and normal, I can't switch back to typing normally.

I hate this place. I want to go back to the noise and the heat and the lights and the chaos and the real people and Basi and the beach. Am I in a state of delusion? 

I am so far away from the staples in my life. I feel marooned. All by myself on a cartoon island with a single palm tree. 

I miss the feeling of coming back home. This feels like a shelter, a dorm, a temporary refuge from actual life that I feel so isolated from. I feel uprooted and it breaks my heart.

The words are not coming out right. My thoughts are barely coherent, but here they are. This life is stale and mechanical. It is beginning to manifest as hatred. I am sure this country has its upsides, but they are not for me. My heart is elsewhere and I have been too far away from my heart in one way or the other. 

I want my mind back. I wish I could shut the world out. They say if I really want to write, I will write, but I fucking suck at that. I am terrible, I am spoiled. I hate to go back to my windowless office with bleached lights and silent people and work I don't believe in. I do not want to go back to doing miscellaneous work. 

But mostly it is because I believe you can only devote your time and undivided attention to two things in life. Three, if you have been at it for a while. Mine is taken up by my day job and family. (and my crippling hh and anxiety full-time). I want to reclaim my time. 

Today these words are not right and today should have been yesterday or the day before, but it is today, and tomorrow another week begins with work, no space for myself in the house and an ocean between me and Chennai.