I was just a raw teen full
with optimism when we met. He took me under his aged arms for six years. I have
to say our first six years were of late nights that were nothing but exciting. Granted
there were some anxieties at first but he became the centre of my world .He was
without doubt my first love.
Two more years passed by,
when things started to crumble around me .When I couldn’t do anything about it,
he was always there, satisfying me in different other ways. But truth to be
said, I no longer found comfort in him. Even my parents who were initially uber
excited , very proud about how well we were doing , they started to be a bit
skeptical sometimes even synical of the way things were heading.
He took a lot of my time,
drained a lot of my energy. No matter how hard I tried, it was always a fight before
letting me spend quality time with my family. He didn’t even bother to support me. Few words of his
wisdom would have been enough but instead he engulfed all of mine.
I felt bitter, almost aggrieved
by it. I decided that I didn’t have to put up with things the way there were. It
was about time for a break. Who would know maybe for the best of everybody.
But like all true lovers,
I couldn’t do it for long . Despite my resentment and the fears of going back to
the hands-on life of medical wards and unsociable style of its shifts. I’m back.
I have made a conscious decision to re-sparkle my relationship with clinical
medicine. The truth is I never intended to leave . For the past couple of years I’ve been a postgraduate student .Which is theoretically less demanding .Hmmm that’s a lie actually
it is probably as demanding but far more flexible . I m trying to write up my thesis
now… with virtually no time left .I was never good at multitasking.Add to it this growing urge
to leave everything behind and just bury my head in the sands .I was literally at some serious cross roads and was happy to finally decide on keeping it only to lose it a couple of days ago… which wouldn't be that bad (that's a lie :p)but I couldn't even look at a mirror (see here to know why) …
I couldn't hit my one month target by the way I had to stop this cute challenge for various reasons. I know I promised to tell you all about it and few other things but..but has it ever occurred to you ? You have a pen , your lucky pen , your favourite pen .. you open up your heart to it , share all your worries and your concerns together with all your goals and desires . And for some reason , you become less and less fond of it . At first you start leaving it at home together with your journal then you no longer wish to tell it as much as you used to and before you realise you forget all about its existence.
But ,as good things always do, the idea of writing started haunting me again ..reminded me of all the satisfaction I get after pouring it all out of my chest. So I went back to my pen ... abit nervous , heart pounding , head full with stories I wanted to share with it ... I opened the box , got the pen out and the very first thing that made sense to me was feeling it's pulse..I tend to do that with every soul I care about ..it's instinctive for me but cry-out-loud weird for everybody else ... Nothing would have prepared me for what I came to realise .. I couldn't feel a pulse , the ink has dried ...I haven't left it for too long I thought plus I had all the good reasons /excuses to tell my favourite old friend why I'd left for that long .In the past few weeks I have successfully cried for England ..been homeless for a good week and dead worried about what's happening to family in Baghdad, I have starved a rabbit in the process and got myself in all sorts of trouble .
But guess what ; the pen didn’t say anything back ..I don't think it's dead rather I'm sure it doesn't care ..I left it long enough for the ink to dry ..I can no longer use it and that all it mattered . The truth is after what had happened I don't feel like writing in this diary anymore.
Hope you are having a better day :)
I couldn't hit my one month target by the way I had to stop this cute challenge for various reasons. I know I promised to tell you all about it and few other things but..but has it ever occurred to you ? You have a pen , your lucky pen , your favourite pen .. you open up your heart to it , share all your worries and your concerns together with all your goals and desires . And for some reason , you become less and less fond of it . At first you start leaving it at home together with your journal then you no longer wish to tell it as much as you used to and before you realise you forget all about its existence.
But ,as good things always do, the idea of writing started haunting me again ..reminded me of all the satisfaction I get after pouring it all out of my chest. So I went back to my pen ... abit nervous , heart pounding , head full with stories I wanted to share with it ... I opened the box , got the pen out and the very first thing that made sense to me was feeling it's pulse..I tend to do that with every soul I care about ..it's instinctive for me but cry-out-loud weird for everybody else ... Nothing would have prepared me for what I came to realise .. I couldn't feel a pulse , the ink has dried ...I haven't left it for too long I thought plus I had all the good reasons /excuses to tell my favourite old friend why I'd left for that long .In the past few weeks I have successfully cried for England ..been homeless for a good week and dead worried about what's happening to family in Baghdad, I have starved a rabbit in the process and got myself in all sorts of trouble .
But guess what ; the pen didn’t say anything back ..I don't think it's dead rather I'm sure it doesn't care ..I left it long enough for the ink to dry ..I can no longer use it and that all it mattered . The truth is after what had happened I don't feel like writing in this diary anymore.
Hope you are having a better day :)
Until next time-Maybe not ! , you keep
smiling best friends !
  |
| not on this enrty apparently:P I was literally homeless , and what do I do ? Chilling out in Westminster .Note to self ; bloody prioritise (I had a crappy week afterwards) lol |
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