GUNTHROAT

I don’t know why I am writing like this every day. I am depressed, lonely and extremely pathetic. To my friends it may seem a cheap PR exercise to draw viewers. They are not to be blamed because I sound very happy when I talk to them. Yes I am very happy when I talk to them. But after that, before that it is like I am treading an uninhabited desert. I am so very alone in this world, I am miserable and have completely lost track. Count down for CAT has begun. Most of the people who are seriously preparing are anxious and excited about the exam. I on the other hand am getting old day by day. It’s like I am 60 and is preparing to retire (not die). Makes me reminisce to the name of the title which my friend gave to his story (it was intended to mock a girl who turned him down which later became a habit for him) - ‘Menopause at 15’.In my case it might be ‘Decrepitude at 22’. Why am I such a lazy creep who doesn’t have any drive towards life? Why do I sleep 8 hours a day, when even my 64 year old father sleeps for just 5 hours? I dream of great things I want to do every day and then wakes up to see it’s just 6 O clock in the morning and decides to sleep for another hour. Life has stopped in such a place where I don’t really know where it is going to go. Uncertainty is seen everywhere. It’s funny that when I was going to join an IT company, its shares started dipping (to the extent that the company that used to call students in august just after graduation has asked me join on April 13th next year),then I decided to prepare for CAT and suddenly investment banks started to collapse. It’s like bad luck is following me. It would have been better for the world if I became a doctor (on which all the diseases would have suddenly vanished from the face of the earth) or a lawyer (then the world would be freed of all litigations and crimes and all the people would live harmoniously thereafter). It’s like an inverse Midas touch; whatever I touch suddenly turn itself into pure shit.
All I can wish for now is some miracle, there is no cost attached to a wish and you don’t need to pay God for delivering one. So all I want to pray is give me something however small it is that would reinstate hope in me to move on, to be young again, to enjoy the beautiful world (with its bustling traffic, unattended potholes, crazy drivers, foul smelling mendicants to name a few which I used to enjoy). Make me the old person whom I loved, whom I was proud of, who was happy. Put me back in the well where I can croak as before pretending that is the real world. I can’t stand this world, this real world, I am sick of it.
October 21st