Take Me Home
It’s taken me forever to get done with an application form for a coveted internship. It’s brought me to the realization that I really have done nothing with my life.
With every passing question, I began to invisibly develop a sweaty brow and a jittery state of mind, which was quite apparent on my wrist and external self. And all the loathing did no good really, my desire to calm down was overpowered by my stupid brain whacking me on the inside.
I’ve reached that milestone now where being asked what I want has become a thing of the daily. And that haunt came back more alive than ever with that dratted app: where do you see yourself two years and five years from now?
Instead of writing corporate jack like ‘I see myself being indispensable to the needs of a law firm in the financial sector,’ what I really wanted to say was this – that I have no idea in Hades’ hell where I’m going to be because everytime that I do plan on being somewhere, I end up somewhere else altogether. I don’t know if I’ll be working my arse off at some kickass corporate firm or be lying on my bum on some beach. Or be doing both; with money comes the power to sunbathe in Santorini. Now that’s what I ideally want. I want to earn truckloads of money and have the best wedding ever and have the Wedding Filmer come and give me a lifetime of videos to watch and weep at everyday; I want money so I can go lose myself in Tomorrowland; I want to earn so much and buy the best freaking house in the best corner of Bombay and have my parents be so proud of me. I want all that money and splurge beans at luxury stores just because I can. I see myself with so much money that all I do is buy all kinds of croc candies for a super cute baby that I have (now that’s like a pretty long term goal, please don’t be alarmed, there will be no little sharklings in the next five years.)
I see myself as a published author, someone who people admire; I see myself having left a mark.
I want to leave a mark so bad.
This is all so unnerving. I feel so inadequate right now. And that’s when I freaked my guts out and walked out on my application form. But it can’t really go screw itself because I really need that form to be kickass material.
That’s the first step anyway right, to this entire roller coaster?
Why can’t I just sit in a corner and look cute and be petted and everyone just be happy as they are and love and be loved. Oh god it’s time to start understanding market derivatives there is no time for sitting pretty and acting like a total lunatic.
I need to go home and figure out my life. What the hell is this concept of a home anyway? BHAK.
x EdgyShark x