After many attempts, at trying to get through to me on Skype, phone and email a friend from the US finally tracked me down on the phone. Steeped in the agony that is the last twenty thousand words of Ruby Iyer, I was pretty short with her; eager to get back to the figment of my imagination, whose skin I inhabit right now.
She’s burning me up – Ruby: I feel her rage bubbling under my cells, ready to cut loose at the slightest provocation. No, I am not a very pleasant person to be with right now.
Right after I hung up, of course, me being me, I fretted about our conversation. Should have made more time, should have carved out more mindspace; yah. The usual would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.
So I settled for mailing my friend an apology – to which she replied: “I don’t mind chirpy and abrupt; but you just sounded dour.”
OMG, me dour?
Yes, of course, I didn’t mean it. I was in the middle of this crazy other world I am carrying around in my head. It will be a relief to have it out there. Or will it?
In my saner moments I wonder? Will I put down my load for it to probably turn into someone else’s dirty laundry? Nope. Shouldn’t think like that. Pointless.
All I can do is focus on the next page, and the next, and the next. Tell the story and let Ruby take care of the rest.
Yet, I couldn’t help but wonder. Was it my intellectual arrogance that was turning me into a rather anti-social creature? One who inhabited imaginary worlds in between the walls of the building I dwell in. An organism, which runs through train station platforms, where none exist.
Either way, I have resolved. I shall henceforth be chirpy and abrupt, but never dour.