confessions of a commitment-phob

dear jess

i dont know what i want. i am inclined to know wat i do not want more than what i do want. i do not want to become a "suit," nor do i want to wake up everyday at 7 o clock to beat the jam, nor do i want to wait for it to become 5 so i can clock out.

i have it pretty good i must say. i work really hard, if for one second you dare to think that the stupid suits work harder than me. i do a six day week to a clientale of a ten year age gap, prepare hours of teaching ranging from things that require me to use kids glue all the way to shakespeare AND im trying my best to be a researcher and a scholar.

now that im done bragging, or complaining... iam inclined to realise that suddenly, all i feel like doing is just dumping all these to the bin. just change everything i ever worked for and i dunno, become a wheatgrass collector or something.

just when i get something i dont want it anymore. and now i think all this is holding back from me wanting to do something else.

its horrible having to live with someone like me. trust me.

XOXO

the wait.

The call beckons. In my mind the world is still awaiting my much delayed coming.

It has heard of the dreams I uttered in secret.
It has heard of miseries and woes, and the joys I have shared with nobody but her.
The world waits. And I do too..

She awaits for me and I for him.

Some days she helps me to rationalize my love for the one I wait.
Some days she makes me think that I should be angry about the wait that seems endless.

He knows nothing of my pain,
my deepest sorrows and longings.
I know nothing of the things she has for me,
The wonders of the unknown

When he finally comes to me.
My waiting ends; but only for a fleeting moment.
In that short moment, the misery of waiting is suspended.
And I forget.

The wait will continue.
I for him and she for me.
And I will wait for the time when perhaps one day my soul will be revealed to him
Or if I shall leave to be by her side

Perhaps by then, she having grown tired would have stopped waiting for me.

*snore*

dear jess,

is it really possible to live on love and fresh air? no, im not talking about relationships, not with any human being anyways. is it possible to wake up at least once a month and think, i love what i do? when i had my feet in two boats- working and studying i use to have that one second tranquility thinking, i love what i do.

after all the chasing and wanting and shifting, has it all been worth it? has it all been what you thought it would be? when i first landed my first "real" role in a play i was estatic. until it too began to became mundane, reading the same lines and trying to make it real every night.

i feel that sometimes i need a jolt, a burst of craziness, a wake up call. you know, one of those individuals who work, perform and then go out to fight for human rights, or some great cause.

inspiration? i need one kilogram please.

yours,

jess