You know what the absolute best thing about having a bad memory is? Every idea seems like the best idea you have ever had. Sometimes it’s an idea you’ve already had. Sometimes, it’s not even an original idea, but an idea you heard 4 days back and then forgot.
Anyway, I have just begun phase 2 of my life. (If I have called any other moments as phase 2, I have forgotten, and you may qualify them as phases 1b,1c,1d…unless you reach 1k, in which case please contact me, as I might need to see a neurologist for my impending dementia, and forgetting 11 is where I draw the line)
Speaking of brain death, phase 2 of my life, I, Gurbakshsingh Khalsa, self-declared smart boi, lover of logic, tattooer of epsilon to be pretentious about “maths” being cool, pet peever of irrational/incongruent thoughts, long time elitist, fancy-college-name-dropper, fancy-college-name-dropper-for-MBA-as-well have decided to switch heroes from the vastly nameless science community to Dan Harmon and Shah Rukh Khan. Egomaniacal traders of emotion who have made empires by feeling things and making people feel things.
My need for validation over the years have gone largely unanswered when I would “quick brain maths 74*893 when drunk (it’s 66082, which I googled and did not even bother solving because I am a changed man now). However, when I turned to improv, and making my instagram stories about my emotions, holy shit, people at that up. Nom nom nom nom nom. And not in a way that made me go. “Ugh, you ate that? You must be inferior for acknowledging my skills”, but in a way that made me go “IS THIS WHAT ACCEPTANCE AND VALIDATION FEELS LIKE?”
“What does that mean, Guru?”, you ask incredulously. I’ll tell you what that means. “Does it mean you will quit your job for the arts? Does it mean you will be more emotional at all times? Does it mean you will accept your brain death and not even try fixing it?”
Well, stop interrupting me. I’m in the middle of something here. And what it means is unclear to me as yet. I have some steps and then I take it from there. Step 1 is I explore my vulnerabilities. I cried for the first time in YEARS for a show (20 minutes before I went on stage, which, terrible timing if you wonder). Sure the show told me that one of my favourite people on earth’s character was dying. But it was a good check-in that I have forgotten what it felt like to feel/convey emotions.
My therapist has dug deep enough to discover that teenager me was punished for vulnerability, so I guess there is something there.
But as soon as I get in touch with my vulnerability, ohhh boy. I would have achieved perfection. And then how are the rest of you going to compete with me? With your sexy looks? With your well-adjusted people skills? With your well-paying jobs? With your really awesome network of friends and family? With your love for your fellow humans? Well, that all sounds lovely, so I guess I withdraw the competitive nature of phase 2.
Okay, enough typing. Gotta go feel things. And not just dramatically brooding by the swimming pool neither, no. Actually asking my grandmother how she is doing and dealing with her answer showcasing her mortality like a grown up. (Is this a bad idea? can I still back out?)
Hugs. Kisses. Cares.
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