As a child, I had a room which I shared with my sister. I’m not sure if it was her idea or mine, but very often we would rearrange the furniture to make the room look different. When the pushing, adjusting, cleaning, wiping and aligning was all done, we would breathe a sigh of accomplishment and part ourselves on the back. This strange desire has remained with me, until now, one of those quirks I haven’t grown out of. Every time life feels monotonous or too routinized or stagnating, I rearrange the furniture, spread new sheets on the bed, pile up some new books and knick knacks on the side table by the bed and voila, a rejuvenated soul and a clean slate to begin life.
For a week I have been overcome by this very urge, only exacerbated by the dysfunctional tube light above the bed. Of course lethargy got the better of me, but then again, I thought to myself: would a neatly ordered bedroom placate the disorder I feel inside? I guess not. So this time, I leave the piles of newspaper just where they have been for the last one month. I don’t bother folding the clothes and shoving them in the cupboard either. I think the dust settled comfortably on the photocopies would be terribly troubled if it was required to move some place else.
At some point in life you realize that it’s time you stopped deceiving yourself. No amount of people in life can compensate for the inadequacy you feel inside. And even if they do help you constitute your sense of self today, there is no certainty that tomorrow they will be there holding you or your self together. In which case, it’s time you looked in the mirror, see that what you rather not see and confront that which you hide behind sparkling eyes and infinite smiles. Sooner or later, you’re bound to make progress. I'll start by purchasing a new tube light.