The Long Ride Home

At 1 AM, I am at my console in the office, fighting sleep and waiting for my drop call to come.

All this while, when I am typing, when I was editing the stories, I think about the long drive.

The impulsive streak in me had reared its ugly head again.

And that did terrorise me. I have been trying to pick up the pieces of my tattered non-existent life - the same one that I ruined because of this impulsiveness in me. And here I was, yet again, feeling what I promised I wouldn't feel, doing what I promised I wouldn't do - dream. Be excited.

Sitting here, with my head feeling heavier because of the sleep I wonder if I would ever live HEDONISTICALLY or would keep living on someone else's terms - my parents want something else for me, of me, from me. I want something different to what they want (There are times when I don't think I even KNOW what I want) I have, till now, lived in today. For today. Believing I might not live to see the daylight tomorrow.

But is it not possible that the hedonist can become a changeling? The blockade runner Rhett Butler did. So did Scarlett O'Hara, and they were/ are immortal. Why can't I?

The tomorrow is already here. It's 1 AM right? So which means that I am living in the tomorrow I so fear(?) For the fear of unknown. We all are terrified of what a tomorrow would bring to us. But yet, the next moment, the next wish is something I would have to live with. How? Why? Why can't we all just chuck civilization and live like neanderthals? Why do we have to enact civility? Why can't we all be the barbarians we are?

Why do we have to be something we are not just so as to please everyone else around us? Nastiness is inherent in all of us - why not prove it?