Other Journaling Days
How would the end look?
Alone? Sick? A quiet fade at night or a midday halt? My mind spirals: Painful. Lonely. Cluttered with grudges and to-dos, just like today. Death feels like an extension of life’s loose threads—the home loan I joke about, the unresolved friction with my mother, the guilt of unanswered calls.
How would I like to die?
“No unfinished business”—a fantasy. Daniel Kahneman’s assisted exit lingers in my thoughts, not as desire, but as a grim punchline to life’s absurdity. Control, even in endings, seduces. But let’s be honest: death, like life, is messy.
What’s the matter?
Today was a bad day. I woke at 4 AM, wrote two blog posts, walked at dawn—productivity as armor. By afternoon, my head throbbed. I napped, missed messages, and plunged into guilt. Why? Because I’m wired to “fix” underperformance, even when exhaustion demands grace.
What do I do to call it a day?
Nothing. Let go. Let go of Mom’s expectations, the blog stats, the GitHub repos. Let the home loan haunt someone else. This rambling? A lifeline. Typing these words feels like steering a rudderless ship—small, defiant acts of control.
The paradox of bad days: They magnify our fragility but also our stubbornness to keep moving. I coded. I napped. I guilt-tripped myself. I wrote. Now, I’ll post this and sleep.
The lesson?
Life’s weight isn’t in grand finales but in the unfinished, the unspoken, the “I’ll fix it tomorrow.” Maybe that’s okay. Maybe survival isn’t about tidying loose ends but learning to walk through the clutter.
Epilogue:
The loan remains. Mom still knows how to push buttons. My GitHub code? Still MIA (missing-in-action). But tonight, I’ll sleep—not because I’ve solved anything, but because I’ve named the chaos. Sometimes, that’s enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment