The uncommon Life

I have just read a novel. It has been a long time since I have mentioned to sit down and enjoyed reading a novel- not for any reason other than for the very sake of it.

I remembered previously that I have always enjoyed reading novels. But in recent years, my book list contains mostly on finding the origins of the financial crisis, on power and politics, history and culture of various countries. It seemed rather impressive but to a certain degree, it all seems extremely instrumental in it's nature.All these reading kept my mind focused on being economical and finding insight as opposed to self-discovery. It served me so well that I have turned into a machine- that made me too good at what I did- which made me wholly inaccessible and "effective" to a fault even.

I recalled reading Marxism, watching porn as a academic module, debating on " how making a hole is easier than making a pole" and making Freudian references. It is all too fun and when I started working, I knew that I had to put all these asides and cull my reading such that to capture the essence and be expedient rather than be really cut out all frills- the only thing that surprises me was how successful I was in doing so. That I have managed to strip everything down to it's essence and leave whatever Dionysian inclination out of the window.

The behaviour was utilitarian to a fault that all actions must have pragmatic bend otherwise it was absolute useless. The only difference was that when I marched forward, I left everybody behind. This made me a "one man everything"- and there was not a market for such a thing. The thing that made me so damn good, had also made me so damn ineffective.

Looking  back, I must have to admit, I have swung perhaps too far to the pragmatic bend that made almost unpragmatic that made me no different from a machine or an Oracle. It made me quite incapable to respond to otherwise pretty common behaviour without trying to find a leverage or angle on it. I was too economical to a fault that people had to erect barriers just so they can prevent me from knowing them too well. To a certain degree, I am glad that I got distracted earlier otherwise I might not be able to survive to this age even.

Hence this reading of a novel have made me reclaim some part of me that I have lost. The part of which made living my life worthwhile thus far. The part of me where there were still wonder left where not everything can be articulated and compressed into a simple language.

Quite frankly, I am extremely surprised the extend of which I have moved from being student to a economical unit in such a short period of time. My learning curve was uncommonly short and such that I had to unlearned what I learned and learned back what I used to know intuitively.

I had to learn to live again.