Nothing much to say...

Life is often funny. For most of my 2 years in the US, I craved to be surrounded by friends (more) and family (occasionally). Everyone amongst them being supportive of me and my decisions, really stood by me. But you know how it is. Things do fade out as time goes on. Specially once the hard realization that one needs to make a life for oneself where one resides dawns, one eventually starts drifting apart. The people in the outermost orbits start moving away first. Number of people with whom you can actually chat (without the usual 'wassup' 'doing great' fakeness) starts diminishing day by day (I still go on gtalk just to chat with this one particular friend). And thanks for the energy and time you put in, some timeless bonds never fade/break away. So with all these not-so-happy realizations, when I had finally moved to the state of acceptance to really make a good life for myself in US, all the instabilities beckoned. 


First losing the job, then dwindling finances, where to live after the lease gets over, maintaining status, whether to do some work which I don't want to do - at that time the list was overwhelming. Every night I slept thinking tomorrow I would have answers for at least one of these. (thankfully nothing of that sort happened). The most I dreaded was not having my own place to live. Even though I shared my flat with someone, I called it home. I liked the idea that I had set that place up, according to my taste. I hated the idea of selling my table, chair, bike, giving away small sweet nothings I had acquired over time, to part ways with my books and my mini library. Aren't these small little things that really bind you to a place and call it a home ? Maybe for some its the people who make a place like home. For me its more about having one's own space.


I cringed at the thought of being homeless. Nonetheless, my friends were kind enough to let me live with them, after my lease got over and until I arrived at a decision. Thus I spent 1.5 months in Dallas, few days with my ex-roommate, and some more with friends/acquaintances. I am not belittling them, but I have always craved for my space. I think almost 2 years living on your own does that to you.


I think now I have lived through my another worst fear. I know how it feels like not having one's own space, a place to call home. This is the only way I can overcome the inertia and get some motivation to venture out again and do something worthwhile (but not just sit and write silly blog posts). The sense of adventure needs to be awakened. Got any more triggers ?


~nightflier

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