I have been away from blogging for a long time now.
Its been 2 months since I wrote something that made any sense.
The placements started in my college roughly a month ago and they’ve been heartbreaking to say the least.
I got through the first round to my dream program the IGrad at IHG, but slmehow there’s a part of me telling me, as I sit here in a steel tube travelling to my college,” you can’t make it man.”
“You’re just not good enough, the three of them are brilliant. Just look at them, they’re so great, what do you have thats even half as interesting as them?”
I try fighting this voice that just doesn’t believe in me. But apparently nothing I can do will change it.
I’m not saying I don’t believe in myself. I just don’t believe in the circumstances I face and as a result I inherently face the problem of just not being able to get over this 9foot tall mental block that tells a story to me everytime I try to cross it.
I don’t really remember the story but it’s something about this one thing I did so long ago.
My karma is at an all time low.
My confidence is out for dinner with my pride.
Right now I’m not even sure if anything I write has any significance to the larger truth.
It’s not like I can’t make it.
It’s just that I know that nothing I can do can be good enough. Nothing I believe in can probably be enough for a person like me to make it through to an elite program.
I’ve always been a fish that feeds itself at the bottom.
But then I look at the people around me. The amiynt of faith they put into me, the way they look out for me, the envy, the jealously, that feeling of constant deliberation as to why they even feel the need to stand with me.
I look at the people around me. I look at my competition and I just dont want to fight anymore.
I can’t. Fight anymore.
So this is a swan song to the man who wrote his destiny on the insude of a 1X2 matchbox drenched in gasoline and shot it.
Here’s my Farwell.
Here’s bhavya saying so long. And thanks for all the fish.