All that is gold does not glitter...

It was really hard to write something tonight, because I feel a bit fed up, a bit Thursday, a bit under-resourced project-managery.

I kept starting blog posts with no idea what to write.

Topics thrown around were:

1.       Brixton, London (where I live right now)
2.       Home (the concept of)
3.       Feeling lost (not all those who wander, are lost)
4.       First world problems (take 3)
5.       Connection
6.       Work (not appropriate)
7.       Crowds in London

8.    The gloom of living in today’s world and the lack of truth everywhere

Pickings are slim tonight. Also depressing. I’m exhausted, London is wearing me out, but like everyone is saying to me:

‘You have only been there two minutes Albino! Calm down!’

I’m adjusting, you see.

I’ve actually been inspired recently by The Catcher and the Rye. If you want to read a meandering, read that.

I picked up a 2^nd edition for £3 from a second-hand bookstore in Brighton and I read it really fast.

I love to read and I love to write, but there are many things I don’t care to read. Haven’t you noticed, how hard it is to read something that is badly written?

The Catcher in the Rye is a terrible book. No point, repetition, a lack of identification with the main character - who is inherently dislikeable.

So why did I read it?

Honesty. A stream of consciousness. It was real, no holds barred.

It talks about snot, about alcoholism, about being sullied by cynicism. Enhanced cynicism because the main character is sixteen years old. It is not likeable, but it is readable. Communication is complex, what can I say.

What can I say?

I’ve been in London five weeks and I just feel jarred. Maybe because I have a gorgeous, gorgeous home where I can relax in - my subconscious has figured out that now is a time to feel tired, finally.

‘Albino! Relax bro. Take a step back and just chillll.’

I am thinking back to times when I have had a huge holiday, only to come back home and get a terrible flu. I don’t have the flu but I feel a very tangible sense of exhaustion and weariness right now.

It is Thursday after all. And I do work in a fast-paced industry.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m struggling a little, but I think it’s completely OK to struggle right now. Thinking about the upheaval that my life has just undertaken, can you really blame me?

To put it into perspective: I just moved to the other side of the world (five weeks ago), gave up my well-paid secure government job for adventure and London. Via women-hating India and many mishaps. Only to take up work in an identical industry six days after arrival.

But I am here, I have a home, I have a nice job, I can buy nice clothes, I can complain.

That should say it all. Just that.

Here is what I know now:

…

Let me get back to you on that.

I may be meandering, this may be a wandering, but not all who wander are lost.

J.R.R. Tolkien.

Also a terrible writer, but a great message.

Wish me luck - one day at a time eh.

P.S. I guess number three won.

P.S.S. J.R.R. Tolkien may not be a terrible writer, because the above is an incredible poem.