Aimless

The virtue of purpose is ingrained in every one of us. We are all told that it is not just a good thing to have, but a must thing to have. We are perennially encouraged to have a goal, a milestone, a benchmark, a designation, a rank, a pay-grade. And God forbid if we cant think of a purpose, it is thrust upon us. We are made to believe how wonderful and blissful it is to wake up with a purpose; something that motivates you to do something that day; to achieve something; to finish something. I have been waking up with a purpose for quite sometime now. I go to sleep telling myself what I have achieved and what is still left and I wake knowing exactly what is to be done. And I am utterly bored and fed up of it.

I cant remember now how it is to live a day where you don't expect anything from yourself and nobody expects anything from you as well. Where you are just yourself; whiling away time; sitting there and endlessly staring at something without even looking at it; not realising that you are thirsty or hungry; thinking about something so deeply that you don't even remember what you were thinking about when you are out of that trance. I cant remember the last time I wasted a day without feeling or being made to feel guilty about it. I cant even believe that I have reached a stage where I am using the word 'wasted' to describe such a day.

I miss being aimless. I am not sure if I would like it that way. I am not saying that I want to wipe out the slate and pull down the house of cards and do it (or not do it) all over again. I just want a chance to know it, feel it and experience it once more. It is like that old tattered, faded and 'stonewashed' pair of jeans that you found hip once and still cant manage to throw away. You feel like trying it on every decade or so. Sometimes you will love the fact that you can still fit in it, sometimes you will realise how childish you were and how better off you are now. I just cant find that jeans now. And that makes me miss it all the more.