The stench on my hands tell me yesterday was not a dream. We have, in fact, consumed more than was physically tolerable, and I did, in fact, believe, that me grabbing everybody else's share reeked heroic. After all, the Big girl was driving us home and somebody should watch what she's drinking.
The strange thing is that the substances seem to have cleared my head (of brain cells? maybe). I'm not sure whether anybody remembered this, but I did spill some major shit about the current state of affairs. But this is the truth and it'll get out eventually: I respect this craft so much it has become impossible for me to just wing it.
Saying this has implications and goodbyes in line, but I did promise myself to see the truth all the time. I am enjoying the trip but everybody knows it's just a pit-stop. And there is really no sadness in that, because I have met some of the most intellectually engaging, mind-numbingly smart, endearing, adorable, and sub-atomically deep characters in the past few months. Touching base had become so refreshing.
And so this is why I needed that me time when so many things keep happening in the office, when some of the apprehensions I've been having from my previous work seem to be resurfacing in the current play of events. Necessary evils I am slowly learning to live with, but only enough not to disappoint the world. Is this a trip back to them sadder days? Upfront, I'd say no. I can see all this in a much mature light -- the world is no longer against me, it is me who's been going up the wayward roads.
But I refuse to just hang on, what I want is to be able to soak up every little smidgen of learning from this experience to make me more maangas in the future (like, say, a force to reckon with). Because there are some amazing stuff that's happening: in the midst of meeting new people from other lands, writing stuff that people need and want to know -- it can be pretty fun. I just need a checkpoint, I guess, so I know I'm not losing my way. I'm thinking of this stage in my life as that stage Po Bronson talked about in the red book and Neil Gaiman hinted at about their writing lives: sure it's beautiful to write fiction, but to know how to twist (or create a new) truth, you must get your facts straight first. And so this is all part of that learning module.