I have a family.
Lots of relatives.
So many relatives, I’ve never even met some.
I don’t know most of these people.
Like literally, don’t know them.
I’ve had the bad luck of meeting some of these people.
Must say, I was disappointed.
I think the feeling was mutual.
I’m not going to sit here and assassinate their characters. But you get the idea.
Not all my relatives are bad. I think some of them may be genuinely nice.
I’ve never stuck around long enough to find out.
But I get the general feeling of a jealousy? Perhaps envy.
The kind of people that smile when you’re there and then talk shit in your absence.
I expect that behavior from others. Not people who I’m related to.
The kind of gossip that happens amongst themselves is off the charts.
You want drama? Don’t need soap opera. It’s right there. In their midst.
I’ve had the displeasure of meeting a lot of similar people.
Why do they feel the need to feed off of their own kin’s misfortunes?
I remember one incident where they sat near me and talked shit about me; while I was there!
I was right there and I could clearly hear them say how bad I was. That no family in the outside world would want someone like me. That nobody would want to live with someone like me.
Some context; we were going to bury the ashes of a dead relative. They asked me to go with them. I agreed. Stopped at a roadside diner’s for lunch. I refused to eat with them. And that pissed them off.
I didn’t want to eat there. I didn’t want to eat at all. I would eat when I went back.
I don’t eat outside. I’ve been to a restaurant like 5 times in my entire life.
I eat at home. I’ve grown to love the micromanagement when it comes to my food. I can pick exactly what I want to eat, buy the groceries etc.
I grew up in a humble background. Some people are afraid of saying poor. Yes, I was poor.
I didn’t have the luxury to eat at fancy restaurants and dress up in fancy clothes.
I didn’t even have pocket money. No pocket money. During breaks at school, the other kids would share their snacks with me.
When they collected money for stuff in class, someone always paid for me. And then I’d pay them back later.
One girl in 8th grade that I sat with always paid for me. We used to write exams during the weekends. So the exam papers from the previous years were photocopied in bundles.
Sometimes, she didn’t even take money from me. I still remember her full name. Yes, she’s not on any social media. She was one of the first people I have always wanted to reconnect with.
So eating at home is the default option for me.
Yes, I used to eat out during the weekends with my best friend M, but that’s a different scenario. We were homies, best friends, brothers. Eating chips, drinking soda at some roadside stall was our time to catch up with each other.
It may indeed be the case, that no family in the world would accept someone like me because I don’t eat out.
That’s fine by me. You can enjoy the crap food prepared by sweaty chefs in some stinky kitchen buzzing with flies and roaches. I’ll eat by myself in my room.
I think I’m a disappointment to them. Because I’m not like them. And because I don’t have a job?
Like, hey! Why aren’t you working? I do want to work. But I don’t want to be a slave for some bloodsucking leech of an employer who pays me shit and expects me to work overtime with no bonus!
I’ve heard stories from some people. Like you sit in a cubicle all day doing nothing and then suddenly get a load of files in the evening, when you’re just about to leave.
I don’t like other people wasting my time. I like to be productive.
I’m not financially successful and it bugs a lot of people. Much more than it bugs me, I’d say!
I’ve applied for so many jobs. But never got a call back.
Maybe it’s for the better. Maybe God has something even more prestigious planned for me.
We’ll wait and see.
Success is an impediment to good character.
Earning lots of money is the key to success.
How many rich people do you like?
As soon as someone starts making a decent living, their ego skyrockets through the outer space.
I’ve seen it happen before my own eyes.
Just because you make some good money, you think you’re the king of the world. That everyone should bow down to you. That whatever you say goes. That you’re unstoppable. That all your enemies must submit or perish!
Money is the root cause of all evil.
It blinds people’s common sense. It bewilders their intelligence. It illusions them into thinking they’re something they’re not.
Some like to say everyone’s just jealous of them. Everyone’s envious of them.
You make so much money that you think acting like a douche to the less-privileged is okay.
I’ve had friends. Everyone I know is well-settled with a good job and life.
I’m happy for them. I genuinely am.
The problem with work is when you let it consume all of you.
If all you think about is work work work, you’re not giving your brain time to think of anything else.
Your only focus is money.
You forget your wife, kids, family, friends, and basically the true reason for your existence.
You make new friends - preferably rich people like yourself.
You buy fancy things for your family, thinking that’s what they want.
They want you. They want your time.
No amount of fancy jewellery will satisfy your wife like a few hours of spending time with her will.
Some people may agree. Some, may beg to differ.
We live in a time where the media has brainwashed everyone into thinking money and luxury items are the source of happiness.
You’ll have to agree with me on this one.
If I wanted to date a woman right now, the first thing she’d tell me is to get a job.
Even if I had everything else; no money, no love!
Money is the base for everything in today’s world.
If you have money, and lacked in several other areas, you can still get a wife.
You could literally be an asshole, but, if you had money, you’d have no problem picking up some girl.
Nobody wants a poor nice guy.
I remember being quite popular when I was a total jackass. Everyone was easily impressed.
Nice guy? Nobody wants me.
Jackass! Everyone wants me!
Nice guy? Meh. F ck off loser.
Jackass? Hey boy! *wink* smile blush*
I’m trying to include a variety of other topics in my blogs so you don’t get bored.
A daily blog about someone’s life gets boring really quickly.
Because you’re essentially doing the same things everyday.
How much change can your life have every single day?
I’ve considered vlogging this year but haven’t started it for the same reason.
If you watch some of the old vlogs, you’ll notice they had a similar pattern every single day. And they weren’t popular at all. Only people who were really interested in someone would watch them everyday.
People who vlog these days aren’t showcasing their daily life. They’re planning and scripting everything. It’s all fake. That’s not how a normal person’s life is.
A normal person’s life is pretty boring once you get the drift of how their day goes.
My life is pretty boring sometimes.
Today I went to the temple in the morning.
Stayed there till 1:00 p.m. when the altar closes.
After guru puja, there was no Harinama. But I stuck around because some prabhu told me they’d go to another city for Harinama.
But they didn’t.
So at 8:35 a.m. I was heading out. Then my friend called me back and said we had to do kirtana.
So we did kirtana from 9:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m.
Started out with 4 guys. They dropped out after an hour. But new guys joined me.
I sang today. For like 3 hours.
There was a mataji who sang really nicely. I was impressed. But she left after an hour.
It was fantastic kirtana. I sang some new tunes I’d been singing to myself for a while. And they managed to pick them up fairly quickly.
I think some devotees at the temple are also disappointed in me.
I don’t do service.
But I always show up for the kirtanas.
Yeah. Not their ideal guy.
I like kirtanas because I like music.
And I like music like the Black Christians.
Hey hey hey! Daz raycist! Oh no he didn’t!
Shut up. I’m not racist. And I’m implying Black people. The way Black people react to music is just energetic. They’re enthusiastic. They can feel the music. They can dance so well.
White people are more formal.
Ever visited a Black church? They sing and dance. They praise the Lord. You can literally feel the emotions running through your heart.
White church. Opera music. It’s not bad. I’m just not a big fan.
The pujari gave me a garland from the altar. And a box of prasadam.
I felt so humbled. Like I was doing this because I liked it. And I wanted to please God with my kirtana.
But they loved it too. And that counts for me.
I was so tired. When I got back, I made myself a sandwich, ate and watched MKBHD, Jerryrigseverything, Austin Evans, Unbox therapy… then slept until now.
My hand feels surprisingly good after all that kirtana. It is a little painful to touch, but it’ll heal in a day or two.
I wanted to go in the evening too. But I was tired. And I hadn’t eaten well. No food, no energy.
Today I wore a t-shirt that I got back in 2006. It’s got like 2 small holes now. But works for me! I’ve worn it on so many occasions. When it’s completely worn out, I’m going to hang it on my wall like some antique piece! xD jk
Yesterday’s blog was an angry one. I was in a bad mood all day. And the language I used wasn’t very friendly. It’s not a good example.
But I’m leaving it as it is. I know the media and some idiots like to take things out of context. But I hope neither of those read my blogs.
I’m hungry now. What’s for dinner?