it’s difficult to turn it off; it’s difficult to stop; it’s difficult to sleep on time; it’s 0040 again, and i spent 14 hours working. again. today was supposed to end at 7pm. i was supposed to just watch a movie.
maybe nausheen was right — maybe it’s become an addiction.
even though i spend most of my waking time working; sometimes deciding between sleep & food; skipping meals; drinking replacement shakes to save time; late-nighters; early mornings; doing it all, i’m still falling up short. i still want to do more; i want more time.
time — there’s too little time..
to the unexisting you,
i’m working my butt off. i want to do good. i want the opportunity. i want to go beyond what my passport dictates for me. i want to be more than someone who just couldn’t make it work. i want it all.
sometimes i wonder what happens if i reach the end, and the outcome is still the same. kismat is what the turkish & persians call it — fate — is my future already pre-determined by the rules of fate; or do i control it with my actions?
pedro once told me: “this is not the last piece of work you’re ever going to do in your life”. i sometimes wonder if it is. does it end when itp is over; my suitcase & rucksack is packed, and i’m on a flight back to where i came from? when i work a 10-6 that i’m not interested in, and spend my nights making art for no one who cares?
will anything even come out of this? of thesis?
i’m reminded of the exchange between jon & susan in tick, tick … boom:
j: You’re right, I’ve been distracted, but I promise, after the workshop — I just have to get to after the workshop…
s: Everything is after the workshop. (then) What if the workshop happens and nothing changes? No producer with a big check. You don’t go straight to Broadway. You’re still a waiter, you’re still living in this apartment, you’re still broke. What then, Jonathan? And what about me?
what then, arjun? what then?
i’m reminded of madeline’s moment of vulnerability. she was echoing similar fears. i calmed her down. prachi calmed me down when i was in undergrad.
i’m okay; i’m okay.
writing feels like a hug. i release what reaches the surface of a boiling vessel. i let out a little steam; i make space once again.
i’m going to be 26 in 2 days. 26.