Words - II

I think I try to worry myself to sadness all the time. I worry about spilt milk and the cat that snuck in through the window I forgot to latch; I castigate myself for forgetting the keys in the car and for my burnt toast. I even worry that I might be worrying myself to high blood pressure and a cardiac arrest. And the result of all this worrying is that I feel sad and depressed instead of being jolly and carefree. Most days dawn quite okay for me but the moment the first thought enters my brain, any thought at all, whether momentous and dealing with the direction my life is heading in or trivial and concerning merely the movie I saw the day before, immediately I sense a tightening in the stomach as I find something to worry about; to feel sad about. The poor girl whose flowers no one buys in the movie or the general mess that is any prospect, any outlook into the future in a murky world, both bother me and sadden me. Pathetic some might say and pitiful others may opine but I have to live with it, this morbid, depressing natural character of mine. Today, though, I am happy - I saw her face even if she does not know I exist; today I cannot feel sad however hard I try. Funny the way we float sometimes on thin air, funny the feeling that is atleast in part frivolous and mad. But that is man, I guess, flawed, funny and merely a visitor in transit determined to enjoy his visit to a beautiful place sometimes or worrying over his lost luggage in other cases.