March 15, 2006
After having stayed away from the colourful chaos outside for the first half of the day, I have hit that dreaded low in my life where I collapse under the effort of having to hold myself up together all the time. Thus starts the mad search for a conversation, for any conversation, that will throw a rescue line your way and save you and your sanity, be it for a couple of minutes, hours or even a day.
This is the moment where all the resolve to hold your own ground goes to the dogs. The promise of the conversation claws at you like the worst withdrawal an addict can suffer from. Every wrong thing you’ve ever done eats at your conscience for having landed you in this spot and you feel bitter about every person, for whom you’ve ever done any right, for not being there to help you out. Not that it helps a lot to have your non existent ego play up at that time not wanting to ask for help. Eventually, after a long walk, everything calms down, material needs to be cleared for the office presentation and dinner needs to be cooked.
Life is nice as long as it is maddening and abnormal.