So mentally drained I could cry, but there's just no time to even cry... There seems to come a point when the mind is so full of accumulated thoughts that it ends up feeling empty. You try stringing one single thought that comes from within you - your own reasoning- together, and it just gets stuck at the first word before dying into nothingness.
Listening to Ravel's Pavane.... that kind of music is soothing.
I'm officially no longer the 'new' girl at our desk at work. The girl started last week, with no financial background whatsoever either. Looking at her panicked eyes and eagerness to do the 'right' things is probably like looking into a mirror, in a way. I'm pretty sure I looked just as lost and confused six months ago.
Last night we had to go to yet another networking event and ended up in some obscure, secretive bar in the heart of the city whose outside entrance looks exactly like that of a derelict building. I went there with my colleagues, including the new girl, and we glanced at one another in surprise at first as we stood in front of what looked like some squatting building. We rang the bell and when they opened the washed-out black door, we suddenly stepped inside a narrow corridor full of mirrors and sparkles. There was champagne and canapés 'a volonté' and soon enough the underground crib was bursting with people in black suits everywhere.
I stayed for a while, talked to a couple of traders, and then left at the same time as the new girl, so we made our way back together to the tube station. I was slightly tipsy from the three glasses of champagne I drunk just because it was free, really. And that was really when we got the opportunity to get to know each other a bit better than the polite smiles and 'hellos' at work.
She kept asking me whether it was normal that she felt so lost and clueless and I said yes, it is. I found myself telling her exactly what other people had told me when I'd asked them the exact same things, that it would take her about three months to start feeling slightly more at ease with the subject at hand. I added that even after that she'd probably still be struggling with whatever else she'd end up having to write about overnight.
It was rather strange to suddenly be playing the role of one of the 'ancients' when I still feel so much at loss myself.
Tonight, we had to go to yet another event, but this time I was so tired - inside and out - that going there felt like I was sort of walking on a cloud. I was there, but at the same time I wasn't really there. I had to be extra careful because I felt so disconnected with everything around me that it made me terribly oblivious of my surroundings. Polite words and the 'expected things to say' came out mechanically out of my mouth, but I'm pretty sure my eyes looked dead to the world.
Sometimes I feel like it wouldn't take much for me to disconnect completely, and irreversibly, from the world, and that feeling frightens me. It's not a fear linked to something bad in itself, it's more a fear of the unknown because I don't know what it would be like to disconnect fully from this plane of consciousness... which is also why I never want to meditate, because I know deep down that it would speed up the process, and I don't know why I don't want to. It's hard to explain, I guess.
So much more I wish I could express, and there is such a huge backlog of thoughts swimming inside my head... but I'm too tired to even type much.
When I was a teenager, I used to write a diary of thoughts and daily occurrences just like this one, except I would write them in a little notebook... Often when I felt like I was being suffocated by the world, I'd end my entry with an abstract sentence that said something like: "Someone lend me a pair of wings..."
No comments:
Post a Comment