Saturday, March 21, 2009

A Moment



Lately, I have been feeling quite off and uncharacteristically despondent. It has been eons since I felt this way. And like that memory of a quick flash of interest over something so superficially deceiving, my understanding of why I am feeling this way—and how I’d be able to fight it—escaped me. So now I am back to square one.


It’s that feeling when you’re insensately standing still while the world around you moves fast and cheery—if you disregard the effects of the global financial calamity. And it’s not that I am feeling indifferent or without a care, but it’s just that moments come when I feel like I don’t belong—to my family, friends, or the entire world.


It’s Saturday, and as tradition, I should be at the coffee shop sipping a cappuccino or an iced latte; but instead, I’m trying to pour my insides out, hoping to figure out why on earth this despondency is knocking at my door.


It’s just a moment, I keep telling myself. And of course, it sort of helps to hear Bono utter those words backed with a somewhat heartening, albeit gloomy, melody. It’s just a moment. But it feels like I am being dragged across the street to a dead-end alley, and all happiness is stripped off as the pavement peels off my jeans.


I don’t know. I don’t even know why I’m writing this stuff. It should feel cathartic, but it doesn’t, which is odd and causing me to question my coping skills. Maybe part of the reason why I’m even considering of posting this is that it has been a while since I posted something—salutary or not—and I am troubled to my soles that I would eventually lose my catharsis.


Whatever. I have to go fix myself a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Should keep my mind off this thing that’s eating me whole.