Seven years ago, when Sins had begun his freshman year of college, he thought every individual he met, especially his seniors, would help him achieve his dreams by encouraging and supporting him through putting him in touch with the right people or impart the right advice about academics and their thoughts about their career plans. Instead Sins had experimented with alcohol, marijuana and cigarettes, and made to sing and dance in front of may people. Not that he was against any of the above, but he felt it hadn’t caused him to learn anything new, other than being more open about talking to other people.
While, before it felt, his mind was in a shambles, a riot of chaos that gripped him, making him anxious for no reason whatsoever, his propensity of numbing out his emotions through the least facial expression possible turned into a calm, wistful, happy demeanour, the moment the first molecules of marijuana smoke entered his windpipe, its smooth array of particles developing through the chemistry of solid, fire and water, culminating into a fuel, exploding inside his mind like an ornately decorated bomb in a wedding procession.
Eight days after his first tryst with marijuana, he began to look for it and started to hang out with the group that had it, eventually morphing into financing and managing the operations of the group, withing two years, during the course of which the group split up into different factions, each motivated by personal reasons and egos, although Sins knew, at the back of his mind, in its deepest recesses, each sought to come back together, but external forces wouldn’t permit so, since each was bound by factors like eking out a living on one’s own terms rather than seek or ask for help.
Sins felt sorry, but he couldn’t wait. In his mind, he was clear. He had obfuscated a few of his dreams in favour of binding his mind into the haze of marijuana, alcohol and cigarettes. Although, he was living well, having passed out of college and working in his dream job, he felt he could be doing so much more. He remembered the joy that he had felt a child, swinging from poles in the garden trying to imitate the cross-fit athletes he had seen on television, strumming an old, petered out guitar that belonged to an elderly man in the adjacent society imitating the guitarists from Iron Maiden and Slayer, writing down a few sentences down in his note book everyday chronicling his thoughts about what he felt about the world, reading a multitude of books of multiple topics and being fascinated by the length and breadth of human thought and perspectives.
The haze that had gripped his mind was lifting slowly, gradually developing within him a sense of gratefulness for all that he had experienced and known. Going forwards, he would always be conscious about how he put his talents to use, seeking to uplift his fellow human being through his knowledge and virtues.