Who am I?

Three words. Why is it so hard to explain it then?

I don’t know.

This is not new though. A good memory is perhaps something I’ve yet to classify as a flaw. It was kindergarten and the teacher gave us a simple homework. Write five lines on “Myself”. The instructions were pretty simple. One line about your name. Two lines about your family, and the last two lines, anything about yourself.

I’ve been stuck on the last two lines since then.

Twenty one years old. Did my O levels in my hometown. Then my A levels from another city, and now, living in yet another city studying Accounts and Finance, or at least trying to. Don’t have any “dark” secrets, except maybe one, but we all have our rights to that, don’t we?

I don’t know what this tells you about me, but it doesn’t tell me anything about myself.

Twenty years is a long journey. And along this path I have picked up stuff that I deem helpful towards figuring myself out. Its funny how we attach ourselves to stuff, classify ourselves through music, friends and attitudes yet we still frown over people who judge us.

So why am I sitting in my room, listening to Penderecki, and staring at the keyboard. Well, because one thing I know is, I like to write. This year has been tough for me. And what is occurring right now can quite accurately be called the Crash. Yes. I have crashed. Depression. Addiction. And a deep hollow that keeps eating me inside. The last few days have been the epitome of all this. This whirlwind of thunder, debris and dark thoughts kept circling over the notion of giving up, but not yet. So here I am. Trying to change. Trying to Unlearn. Empty the cup.

The posts that may follow this one, may look like complete nonsense. The blabbering of the downer. Or they may seem quite good. But the reason behind keeping my name anonymous is that it doesn’t matter.

To Starting over.

Cheers.