Death Of A Weekend

I'm so depressed.

So very depressed.

And yet another weekend passes by. Bah. To what end, I ask?

I live from weekend to weekend. Waiting as the week drains by, burns to nothingness. Looking forward with such anticipation for that release from boredom, for that salvation, for that energy. And at no time is that wait longer and more desperate than Monday morning. I want... I need that weekend, that Friday evening. And finally the weekend does come and its going to be awesome! And then, inevitably, it too fizzles out and dies, and is gone in a flash. Doing the same things I've been doing. To no end.

And I've been doing this for a year.

Yes its been a year since I've come back to Pune, marked, incidentally, by Valentine's Day. Back from training in Infosys Mysore. That was a joyous day for me. As always, when I am on the brink of change, I was full of a hope, a new hope, for a new life. A year later, its all the same.

What am I doing? I'm drinking away the days. I have no direction. What is my job? I don't know. It's just some money. Really, do I deserve it? Do I earn it? I'm so bored of everything.

I can't do this. I can't get depressed. Not now. Its too soon. Every year I get depressed from a few times to several times. I mean actually clinically depressed. Just no one knows about it. The recent trend (the last few years, ok, since after highschool) is that I generally go through one depression in the month of April. What is up with that? What is it with that end of March and start of April time? It used to be so happy. It used to mean the end of exams, it used to mean freedom and joy and abandon. I went through one of the worst depressions till date in April 2009. Man, I thought my life lacked direction then. Sigh. Yes, I have a depressing life.

But it's just February. I can't be depressed so soon. Not in the new year. Especially when I started the year with such positive changes. Meh. I can't fucking do this.

One whole year I've just been mucking around. And now all I keep wondering is, what is it all for? What is there at the end of it all?

Jesus fucking Christ. I'm serious. I'm on the verge of tears I'm so depressed.

Oh, loathful Monday.

And the best part is the weekend no longer provides that respite it once did.

I can't keep doing this. I need something. Something new. Anything. Why can't my life be like in those movies where the protagonist starts out as a highly mediocre, depressed chap grinding out a 9 to 5 and who is extremely unhappy, but then this life altering thing happens to him? Like say in Fight Club or Wanted? That would awesome. How come I'm never a "chosen one"? And invariably there will be some insanely hot chick somehow involved, and the protagonist gets to screw her. Granted that Angelina Jolie probably didn't want to screw James McAvoy, but like in Eragon the guy gets a hot Elven chick.

But no, that shit just never happens to me. Just once, I'd like to find a dragon egg. It's getting bad. No, its already bad. It's getting worse. You know you're in a sad state when the thing that used to save you no longer does. Weekends just don't do it anymore. Not that same shit all the time.

I need something. Some direction. Some guidance. Anything. From anywhere. From up above. From down below. From fucking anywhere. Just save me from this... rut that I've created for myself. And the worst part is, I know I really can't complain. I've got it good. And that just makes it suck even more. I don't know what's missing or how to get it. I'm a ship without sails.

And fucking Valentines Day is here again. What a day for me to write this post. One year. I thought I hated this day before. God, and I have to go to gym tomorrow. Lame. I'm so bored of that. And what has it ever got me? Now I can't fit in that nice Homer shirt I bought myself.

It's the death of another weekend. And I fear it may be the death of the idea of the weekend. And that is thought that scares and depresses me all the more. And it's just February.

Fuckin' hell.