Journal or Not so Journal?

I am sitting here taking small sips of beer with this sudden urge to tell you this story so fasten your seatbelt, or dont, there isn’t going to be a lot of turbulence here. So I shall start from the beginning. Crazy right?

I was having a bad day but that is not something that worries me, what worries me is that the frequency of bad days has grown exponentially in the last 5 months. So like any sane emotionally aware man, I ordered beers and started toggling between apps on my phone. I know right? This new rationality surprised me too. With every sip of beer, my day started getting worse, and by the end of the second beer, I had deleted all my online dating accounts. I was thinking about why I moved to Mumbai. I moved to Mumbai to do something I thought I would be good at, something I really wanted to do, and because I didn’t do as well as I had thought I would, it ended up becoming the cause of all my sorrow. I hated myself for giving up so soon. For not doing the one thing that every self help book tells you to do; I did not persevere. I missed home. I missed having friends, wait, I didn’t tell you about that. I don’t have any friends. I do but at the same time I don’t. I have friends I can call once in a week and catch up with, but I don’t have friends I can have lunch with. And as I always do I turned to Twitter and tweeted this at 22:51

and because I had a considerable amount of alcohol in my body (yes, I am a lightweight) I grabbed my wallet and left. I didn’t know if I was going to take a walk and come back in a half hour or go sit by the sea at Marine Drive till 4 in the morning. I started walking and figured I did want to sit by the sea, so I took a rickshaw and left for Marine Drive. I took a metro to Andheri and at 23:23 I was already on a train to Churchgate. The train halted at Bandra and I thought I might as well go to this other beach that I have heard so much about. So I got off at Bandra and asked a rickshaw wala if he’d be a darling and take me to Bandstand. It felt like a short ride because we had just started bonding over the lack of good drivers in the city but my destination arrived. I was still grim when I reached the beach but it went away within moments of finding a spot and gazing at the sea. It was a nice spot away from everybody else and I just sat there, listening to the waves. I felt overwhelmingly grateful that I lived less than an hour away from this solace. I sat there for a half hour and pep talked myself into giving everything another shot. My tiny brain doesn’t know how it works but the sea always casts a spell on me. And now that I was feeling better I started feeling hungry. I knew what I wanted to get.

In less than two hours I was back in my room and had started drinking again, in these two hours I felt better than I had in the last two months. I don’t know if I will get back to doing what I moved to Mumbai for, but I did write this. Even if it is short and meaningless I still think its progress. I know what you’re thinking, why is this online and not a journal entry? And my answer to that is I do not know. Maybe I chose to write this here because I used to keep a journal in college and my nosey roommate read it without my permission. Is that why I chose to put this out here for everyone to read so that I dont have to go through that feeling of betrayal again? I don’t know dear reader, maybe this will go join other bottled up answers inside me and never see the light of day.