On the Sticks - 2

You can make things simpler. You just got to move.

It's one of those days when your stomach feels queasy but you haven't actually eaten something funny. Everything around you seems in place and fuss-free: the weather is nice - neither too hot nor too cold; there are no crowds to squeeze through nor escape from; and there are no apparent points which compell you to act in a prescribed manner.

But, somehow, you are not comforted. Something is amiss, though you cannot categorically identify it. It may be on the tip of your tongue, but you can't seem to spit it out.

Maybe it's the obsessive-compulsive need to make things perfect according to your unrealistic standards. Maybe it's due to the fact that living alone is an altogether new territory and you are between two roads at present: one which delights in the idea of being free from anyone and everyone who has ever known you, and the other which is still quite dazed by how apparently alone you are.

Maybe it's just a flu virus waiting to happen.

Or just stay still. Most amazing results are arrived at by inaction.

It's confusing, though you can't really figure out what it is you are confused about. But then again, maybe "confused" is not the proper term and "overwhelmed" is.

So you sit a little corner - not really apart from the world that surrounds you, but not entirely within easy reach either - and just let yourself be overcome by anything and everything: stress, weariness, momentary detachment

Deadlines and academic load, expectations, personal standards, chores which you have never been expected to do in your entire life

The need to get out and get lost, the need to just sit in the middle of the pavement and be in everybody else's path

Lust, "love" (in an ironic sense)

everything and maybe anything at all.