Restless yet peaceful

This is a year of quiet restlessness. So far. A year where things have been pretty damn good and pretty damn bad for pretty much everything, have always come accompanied with a fidgety restless discontentment. This is a year where joy and grief has come aplenty, but mostly, a lot of detachment. A lot of not feeling strongly enough. A lot of fidgety calm at the surface. And restlessness. I don't know if this is permanent, transient or non-existent (only in my head!). And disturbingly, the next thought that comes to my mind is, in a very Ravi Shastri-kinda way, I have a feeling that something's got to give here.

Whatever that means.:)

I like wondering every now and then of change. The whats, whys and hows. I like to pick up a lens and see things, places, and most of all myself through it to understand just a little better. You can call it a hobby.One of the changes in me in the last year or two I hate the most is how my words don't flow out of me as much anymore as they could. Writing used to be a lot more effortless, and cathartic to me. It wasn't good writing, but it was brilliant clearing for mess inside my head. It sorta takes away the impact of many good and bad changes. I so badly want to write. I want to write my life. I want to write cricket. I want to write poetry and fiction. I want to dole out crap on the back of my notebook again - not mere doodles. But it doesn't come out. Not enough. What's wrong? I feel tension, sadness, joy, but not soul-stirring teary-eyed emotions like I did, a few moments in life. Is there anything wrong?

Anyway, back to the restlessness. I wonder if I feel it more because I dont write about it enough. I wonder if it is just quarter-life crisis. I wonder if it's just hormonal over-thinking :) But that's the sort of year it has been. Job season excitement vanishing- the flaws in people so much more visible. Stress over not knowing the future equalling the confusion over my desire to not even try to know the future. And even now, disquietude. What am I doing with my life? Why have I never done enough crazy whimsical things like others? Am I too "safe"? Am I too boring? Will I get even a chance now to change all that? How would the new life be? Will it be as bad as I am imagining it to be? What will the job life be like? Am I deliberately not asking hard questions? Have I become too defensive, too non-confrontational. Am I scared of drama? Fatigued? Or is this drama still.

Why isn't peace enough?

And where the f**k are the words?

PS At least, I still have unanswered questions.