Not blogging much these days, am I?

It is the same bug crawling on my skin – I’ve introduced him here before – the little guy that gives me the chills simply by being around.

Every night, I sit down to write. And every night, I finish dejected.

To put it simply, I am blank. Not just when it comes to writing, but also in life generally.

And I believe that I have no one to blame for it but me. After all, I am the one conjuring up a shadow so dark and so frightening that it makes me freeze in my tracks. And by the time I am back to my normal self, I have lost all sense of direction. Either that, or I am too afraid to continue further.

Is this even making sense?! I doubt. But then, rambles never make a lot of sense, do they?

I am back to my old self, making mountains out of molehills; knowing what I am supposed to do but not really doing it. I constantly keep thinking about it, make a big deal out of it, and by the time I am done I realize everything has just become bigger and badder. And then you see me fleeing, ignoring, avoiding, hiding in a corner.

How I wish I had more sense. Actually, no. I don’t want any more sense than I already have – not this year at least. I have enough sense to make me go crazy!
What I want is more dedication. Yes, now that should be helpful. Maybe throw in some courage too?

Ha! As I’m typing this, I can think of so many things I can make do with, so many things I want in me so that I’ll start working.
From a stranger’s perspective, it seems to me like I have finally convinced myself that me, as I am, am incapable of doing the things I want to be doing. Sounds like a good excuse to make no efforts at all, doesn’t it?

But then that’s all I ever do – make excuses to me about me. And I have said this to myself so many times that it makes me sick. Because what is the point of this introspection, all these realizations when I am not making changes?!

You see my dilemma? Actually, I flatter myself by calling it that – dilemma it isn’t. Mulishness is more like it.

This is the kind of post I’d publish on my anonymous blog. But I chose not to. People should see me, know me as I really am. And not as something they believe me to be.
So here is me shattering illusions. Yours and mine.

– Meghna.


5 thoughts on “Ramble-Shamble

  1. Hi Meghna! Hope you are doing good. Really loved this post of yours. I guess it was because I could relate to it. These days sure are funny! Let’s hope it all ends well.

    Good Luck with your writing



    • Hi Devanshi! So glad to see a comment from you. I’m good! Hope everything’s going smooth for you as well.
      Thank you for liking the post – the mess I was in while typing it out, I was worried if it made any sense. Kinda comforting to know you could relate to it. ๐Ÿ™‚
      Take care.


  2. Ah, the joys of growing up…never knowing what it is you are suppose to do. Wish I could say I miss those days, but they will haunt you as you grow older as well ๐Ÿ™‚ I suppose the answer is similar to your adventures this summer ~ while in the doldrums, prepare yourself for the next opportunity that will come skidding by so you can catch it easily and be on your next adventure.

    And I have to say, the ending of this post is the answer behind the curtain of everyone you know “So here is me shattering illusions. Yours and mine.” That actually brought a smile to my face ๐Ÿ™‚


    • Indeed, Randall. Sometimes I just wish I could rise above all this confusion, or maybe observe myself from a distance, and maybe things would be easier. But alas! Thatโ€™s a little far-fetched. And so I find myself cornered. I guess I just have to wait a while, and let life design itself.


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