Neo Nomadic Dreams
& Caffeine-Induced Reality

Reasonably Unreasonable

Don’t ask me how I pick books up but like everything else it goes with gut. Therefore, I am particularly pleased about the latest book in possession—The Diary of An Unreasonable Man by Madhav Mathur. I’m still only on the second chapter so I’m not quite sure what to expect but from the looks of it and, of course, from the way it’s cleverly written, I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.

I’ve actually began writing notes again, I mean, I used to carry a notebook around me all the time and I’d write notes whenever I have ideas or thoughts about the book I’m reading. The Diary of An Unreasonable Man actually gave me something to ponder on because it’s just brimming with insight and it’s just beautiful; an enjoyable read, thus far.

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I cannot believe it’s March already, wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that New Year’s Day came? Ah well…time flies.

Speaking of gut feelings, these are the songs that I just can’t stop listening to. Why? Beats me.

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Bryn by Vampire Weekend

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My Night With The Prostitute From Marseille by Beirut

The Golden Hour

I realize that I watch entire seasons of television shows on weekends coupled with a few full-length movies.  I think I ought to spend some of that on mastering my Spanish and to finally tackle art history.

Thus, beginning this weekend and the weekends to follow, I’m turning 3pm to 6pm as study hall, aka The Golden Hour.  I’m spending 90 minutes each on both topics and hopefully, I get to talk about art while speaking in Spanish.  Haha, okay too crazy.  But you know what I mean.

*Golden Hour is loosely related to the photography term, therefore it does not necessarily mean an hour but rather illustrates a period of time.  Just sayin’.

The Myth of Sisyphus

So it begins, this absurdity. Even the reference to Sisyphus or anything Camus is absurd, not because he champions that subject but because much of my knowledge of his work is tied to…a lost love who, absurdly, was a Philosophy Major and whose entire undergrad thesis was about Sisyphus.

Lending to an even greater absurdity is the fact that this so-called ‘lost love’ made an appearance yesterday.  It was weird but not disconcerting, which I think is a very good sign that I have moved on.  Ah, but I digress.

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Secrets by Alice Smith

Where was I?  The Myth of Sisyphus:

Camus presents Sisyphus’s ceaseless and pointless toil as a metaphor for modern lives spent working at futile jobs in factories and offices. “The workman of today works every day in his life at the same tasks, and this fate is no less absurd. But it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious.”

Earlier this evening I became conscious of the absurdity of my life.  It’s not really about work, as I do love what I’m doing, but more on a general note that I feel like I am not getting anywhere.

I am what society calls as having a quarter-life crisis.

At twenty-three, this is all so premature.  I’m supposed to have at least a year more of unadulterated bliss before life hits me square in the face, isn’t it?  But I guess leaving home signed me out of that privilege.  This is the universe’s way of giving me the finger for having taken destiny by the horns and riding it.  Yes, I believe that last sentence is wrong in so many levels but I am sure you get what I mean.

You know, I am usually a very cheery person.  However, I can only do so much as ‘pretend’ that everything is okay because it is far from being okay.  The state of my finances is probably one of my bigger and more pressing dilemmas as I am using two-thirds of my pay on overhead expenses and the rest on paying off debt leaving me practically penniless.  This depresses me, being broke depresses me a lot.

Sadly, money is only the tip of the iceberg.  I have other issues to deal with, other monsters to face, other skeletons that are hiding in my closet.  The even sadder part is, I’m unsure what these ‘others’ are.  But I feel it inside me.  It is a gnawing feeling that won’t go away and it eats me up inside.

I sense a storm coming.

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Broken by Late of the Pier