Nocturne #30 – Still Waiting for That Monday
Tired of rambling, I face the reality of being almost 30 and still undefined, a 'paused frame'. Questioning my inaction, reflecting on standing at the edge, and remembering school promises of starting 'this Monday'—a Monday I'm still waiting for. Perhaps these writings hold meaning beyond a waste of time.
Lately, it feels like I’ve set some invisible boundary for my lullabies, and now I’m angry about it.
Dude, screw it! Be who you are! Without the extra imagery and pathos. What high-minded stuff are you writing about?
Come on, come down to earth a bit!
Yeah… I’m tired of this rambling and programming labyrinths of words. In reality, I’m a person approaching 30, who still hasn’t figured out who he is, what should be written below his name and surname.
Zurab Kostava ………..
What am I doing to strive for better? What am I doing for my real goals? For a better future? For my son to be proud of me? So that when I look in the mirror, I see an upright, smiling person?
– Nothing! Just like that.
I’m not just a slow-motion frame, but a regular paused frame.
However, life is like that; sometimes during deep depression, reaching a radical point puts a high price on this existence. Standing on the edge and reassessing gives me a different approach to dealing with this reality. Maybe yesterday I really did think about what the hell was beyond that damn point? What does disappearing mean? Non-existence? I didn’t exist once anyway, and clearly, I won’t exist in the future either.
Until that happens: Today is Monday.
In school, they even called me Monday. My favorite teachers saw great potential in me. But, at the same time, they saw a subtle artist of laziness and not giving a fuck. I always promised them, “Look teacher, I promise I’ll become a diligent student starting Monday, I’ll live up to your expectations…” (As if I were promising them a salary raise…).
“But which Monday, bless your heart?” – they would ask.
– Starting this Monday, teacher!
And well… I’m still waiting for that Monday to arrive…
Okay.
And if anyone is reading…
I’ll tell you frankly, reading my writings might seem like just a waste of time, but maybe it’s not all that simple. Maybe in these lullabies, in these little monologues, there’s something that will affect you too. Maybe this is all part of a bigger picture that even I can’t fully see yet.
I don’t know what comes next, but together with you, step by step, with a certain lightness, I’m learning to exist in this uncertainty.