So Boredom has visited itself upon me with a vengeance and all my energies are directed towards filling my days with rather meaningless activities. But beneath the stressed out exterior, I think I am still happy that I am home. My parents are still among the few people to know me very well and it is nice to be around such people.

So here I am at home and I have to admit that I am rather surprised with myself. I am surprised that I am actually happy, excited and might even go so far as to say that I am ecstatic to be home. Life has returned to a certain level of routine dysfunction, the kind that I would have to say I am rather used to. So I am now holed up in my room sitting underneath the air-conditioning unit while my body slowly but surely readjusts to the heat, the sweating and the inevitable rash that is associated with it. I am with gusto fulfilling all the roles I usually fulfilled such as helping my dad get a hankerchief that he forgot, helping my room prepare the house for some ridiculous function that at least this one time she is not all that excited to host. I am not sure how long this will last but I do hope my parents enjoy it will it does.

Guilt, that is what I feel a lot of the time. Guilt is the one emotion I cannot handle because it deals with the realization that you are a flawed human being. Growing up is the process of realising things. Your parents are human and even God to some extent is flawed. The hardest one for me is to realize that I might be responsible for other people's misery. It is a form of self-inflicted pain that is too hard to bear.