there is a film in me

For more than a year now, I've felt intense anxiety every day. Not a day goes by with me sitting idle and thinking about anything. I think during Covid I had stopped thinking altogether because every moment was happy and warm. Never had anything bad happened, I didn't stop for a moment to think about it to introspect and I assumed that those days will never come again. That I wouldn't have to stop to think again. I would just go with the flow and come out on top. That's where you get for using every bit of awake time on a landslide of dopamine ice pops. Playing video games for 12 hours, spending the rest of your time with your girlfriend till you fall asleep at 2-3AM. It's an intense way of life. But I want it back.

I also don't. Because it turned me into a zombie. No internal thoughts. Just play. Enjoy. Eat. Drink. Sleep. I was a zombie for two years, then I came back. I think the others around me weren't prepared for this sudden comeback. Sleepless nights, intense thoughts, queer writings and feelings drawn in wholly different circumstances. I was a new person to most people around me. No zombie, no only happy thoughts. Life began with a distant thud. Weirdly enough, a lot of things dictated how it led forward so harshly. Miransh. The people around me. Abba. Then my grades, my career and mostly everything to do with my life. I'm a self-centred individual yes. I say I think for everyone but honestly I'm just thinking about myself. And decisions of others will affect me. Be it fights, small decisions regarding how my friends would treat each other. I'd always find a way to juggle myself into these arguments. Into their lives just to get them to work out their differences. Because it would affect my conscious if they didn't. 

I could've easily told the couple to break it off earlier. But I asked them to hold together. Just because I wished they remained friends. I could've told him to wait it out before he told her his feelings, I didn't because I wished to see where it'd lead them. I could've shut up and not tell her about the two boys in love with her. But I didn't because I enjoy the drama? Maybe it wasn't the original reason. I don't remember the reason. Maybe there wasn't any reason. I'm not a reasonable person. I'm affected by myself. I don't understand myself. I am aware of myself. But I can't prevent myself from acting the way I do. I would say it's just my nature and move on. Continue hurting those around me. But I keep wishing to change. Wishing that I could differ or make a difference. To weed out the indifference. To care about those who care about me. I have a feeling that if I do start going to college more regularly. Interacting with everyone more often, that I would fight with those I don't want to fight with. But should I be afraid of fights occurring so much that I don't meet the people I care about? It's a conundrum. It's an epic shitstorm. 

Feelings aren't adequate to explain how I actually feel. There's a lot of vibrancy in my head from the thoughts buzzing about not being able to accurately evocate the images in my head to the words in them. The saturated images of a film I wish to create. Moments I wish that last longer. My memory is so harsh to me. Because it's so selective with what it wishes to remember. Why do I remember the few moments of bitter internal resentment amongst my friends so vividly but I have forgotten the details of times I was actually happy. Maybe it is just that the bitterness is a stronger emotion than the happiness. That I witness whatever I see more prevalently in those around me. I shall make a film about these thoughts sometime. The emotions that I feel while writing these blogs. They're so complex and interesting even to me because I didn't know this was how I felt all this time.