Unimpressed

What can I say that would possibly interest you?

No, no, don’t bother with the reassurances. This is way more self-involved than that.

What can I say that would interest ME?

I’ve been doing this for a straight 12 years now. Writing. Blogging. Sharing my life. Exploring my confusions. Connecting with people I’ve never met, would never have interacted with otherwise. I’m hitting a dead end now.

I suspect it has less to do with fatigue with the medium and more to do with life fatigue itself. Oh, I’ve said that so often it bores me too.

I feel like I’ve checked off all the items on my bucket list. I’ve experienced all the grand experiences (at least the ones I imagine as grand) – falling in love, achieving academic success, getting my heart broken, being a star (of a sort), getting with it in the corporate world, the cultural fraternity, the hipster bunch, having sex, getting engaged, breaking up (though this I didn’t actively want). I’ve seen it all, done it all.

We each have a relationship with life. All of mine, I’ve been the initiator, the one to say “Let’s try this!”, the go-getter, the planner, the achiever, the one that tries and tries and TRIES and says “Okay, that didn’t work, how about this?”. Life, I think I’m done impressing you. I don’t impress myself anymore with the act of impressing. It’s just too darn tiring.

As with a boyfriend or a new friend, I’ve sat back and waited for them to wow me in some way. And no Life, you haven’t. You’ve been a tap-tap-tapping rhythm from one snooze button to the next.

I’m not impressed by the work available in my field. I am not impressed by the kind of men I meet. I’m not wowed by all the experiences, material and otherwise, that get offered up to me with big, glitzy, ribbon-wrapped price tags. I’m not even impressed anymore by the conversations.

And when I’m not impressed, when I’m not filled with wonder, what is there to write about? It’s not even energetic enough to be a rant. Yawn. Do something, life. You’re getting mundane and I’m getting jaded. Green was never my favorite colour.

Addendum: While I was browsing through pictures to illustrate this post, I came across this and it made me think: Maybe the problem is that I’m seeing all of life through a glass screen.

Yes. But you know what? The universe does not invite me any more. True, there are 7 billion others like me, not to mention the trillions of other life forms. Maybe the universe has got no time to interest me. But then again, what about that adage about there being a place for me in this universe? I can’t find it.

Life, you don’t touch me anymore.