The only source of stimuli to write about in these last few weeks has been conversations.

Unfortunately, I've run out of vain subjects to discuss in great detail. Thus, other people and their lives.

Early this morning, I spoke to Kuks. A call long overdue, to pay my condolences to her about the loss of her grandmother. I'd infact seen her last in February, in my last working week and just before I was stepping out for a work event. Her grandmom had insisted I stay back for a meal, and if not that, just a snack. Later when we spoke on the phone, she'd even commented on how pretty I looked in my WhatsApp display picture. Her grandmom was a cookbook author, among other things, and I've pretty much been lucky to have sampled the best Dhansak and the ice cream that followed, all made by her, years ago on a family dinner, Kuks extended the invitation to me and Bum. 

I've been to her grandparent's and seen her extended family far more than I've seen anyone's family in my circle of friends. Despite being inherently awkward, I found it very easy to mingle and converse with most people including those much older and far more opinionated than me. 

Naturally, this wasn't an easy call especially when you know the person on the other end rather well. The good thing is, we finally talked. I'd been waking up every single day with the idea that I'd call her and then again at the end of the day. 

Little things that take effort are often just as simple. 

Somehow, talking or interacting has become a chore and despite it adding a sense of normalcy to the otherwise mechanically dull day, it just fills my heart with anxiety. I have to make a call automatically means prepping an answer for discussing my whereabouts last few weeks/months and then describing a typical day.

I think it stems from the anxiety of never having failed. 

I wake up and feel like an utter failure, every damn day and every external interaction reminds me and solidifies that belief. 

Somehow, eating a whole bar of chocolate (unceremoniously named Five Star) didn't really help me feel otherwise but, it's a mood. A ride, if you may, living through being a failure, day after day and hoping one day I'll wake up and feel okay. I'll not burden myself with the thoughts about what a pathetic loser I've been but instead, wholeheartedly embrace the comforts, the privilege and perhaps allow myself to feel like a fucking human who's trying to figure things out, despite listening to other friends lament about the tiny discomfort and oddity in their seemingly perfect lives.

One day at a time. Also, the sugar rush kicked in. 

(Title reference; track of the day)