Tabah is the urdu word for undone. Whether it is a building that has collapsed, or whether it is an emotional implosion, tabah applies. This blog to a great deal has been a compilation of my most tabah moments.
Why do I feel like I’m tabah in this very moment, because I was reading a blog post and listening to https://youtu.be/Gys7gKMcIng. It is tough, I am different.
Every time I put a link in the blog, it’s usually to catch the vibe when I re-read it after a couple years. I’ve been meaning to read my old blog posts from college. I’ll probably get to it in a bit, so tonight we will be tabah from reading how I was tabah even when I thought life was at good as I feel it will ever get.
Having podcast talk with friend right now, and now flight talk… not sure why I called him while I was writing this. I’m thinking about the airline I flew out from London from, I really can’t remember things, even those that happened a year ago. To be honest everything from that year does feel like fiction.
Sorry got distracted for a bit. I think I was a bit too stoned to focus. https://youtu.be/wVyggTKDcOE.
One of the reasons I feel I am absolutely drained these days, is because I have accepted or at least I am having trouble accepting I’ve been left behind. Just a part of a past I no longer should care about? I don’t understand why it’s hard to let go, something I can barely remember. At least the memories seem to be one-sided, it really couldn’t have been that good.
I think the reason that being left behind affects me is because I don’t treat my life like I’m the protagonist, most of my life I’ve spend being the supporting role. Friends, partners, family whatever it was; I was just there. I don’t have any problems with it per se. I don’t think I’m fascinating enough to have a story line based on me. Though I could apply Joe Rogan’s motivational speech and make my own story one day at a time, like the ascension of sorts, and all the shit that has happened, just context.
Anyway yeah, so I feel like maybe I focused to much on being a supporting role and forgot that this life’s still mine to live, and that bugs me quite a bit. I don’t really care much for my own self – metaphysically, I mean. So I suppose I never wanted to be that important, and I still don’t and I think that’s what’s needed right now. From being the son, to the friend, to the boyfriend, to the cousin, to that asshole, it’s all been easy. Doing shit for yourself is hard as fuck.
No way, youtube just suggested me Scared to Be Lonely (acoustic) this song literally had more posts written on it than anything. Damn I just remembered maybe it wasn’t all sunshine.
Yeah so, I find myself being tabah, not wanting to put in the effort to get myself out of it, needing someone to, cause of either a lack of care for myself, or just plain old laziness. I suppose they are the same, and now I really don’t want to put all that effort in. It’s so easy getting sad over you, and just writing this. It’s much harder to heal, maybe that’s why wordpress has become so popular these couple months.
Some times I realise how different everything is, every person, every situation is, how everyone has aged and become something totally different to what they used to be. How nothing is the same, cause regardless of my presence the world still moves on. I wonder if you ever think about this, about how if you go back and take your past selves position you’d have made every decision differently. Things that you thought were important wouldn’t be, whereas those that were insignificant, like a weird interest would become a fascination. It’s insane to think about it. How if you take a group of your closest friends from your past and bring all your present selves together, it would be totally different.
I would’ve been the excited energised annoyance, now I find it difficult to care, how then what would have been a smile, would not be a tear. It’s quite insane. Though I sometimes think, does me being different now mean it could have worked out, if I was this way then.
A Sane Undertaking 