Sins realized the impression that he conveyed to strangers, professionally or otherwise wasn’t particularly great nor particularly bad, which was fine in retrospect, but not fine from a networking and people-friendly point of view. The problem was he was too nice to people, in a world, where every person indulged in personal skirmishes, waiting and discussing with peers about how someone remarked some things about someone and then forming personal opinions and judgments. Sins was incapable of contributing to discussions like these, and even when he did, it was always positive and encouraging, live and let live in the truest sense, preferring to be accommodating of everyone’s thoughts and opinions rather than look inward and sneer.
He had woken up in the morning like always, fixated about the woman he had a crush on, grabbing his smart phone from the window ledge and opening her LinkedIn profile, feasting on her profile picture, in a bid to brighten up his day as soon as possible, convincing himself that her image would lead to positive vibrations around his self-centered universe. He wondered if fixating like this on someone, was healthy, after all, what was the point of fantasizing about someone, and not possessing the courage to do something about it? But, he would. He knew he would. It was just a matter of a few days before he would enter into companionship.
He decided to take a cold shower and rid his mind of all thoughts, seeking to empty his mind and begin anew. It worked, the cold streams of water seemed to cleanse the most deepest recesses of his mind, like a vial of cold liquid metal enveloping his skull from all directions. He came out of the bathroom, as naked as a new born baby in all its glory and was shocked to find the door to his room open, before realizing the responsibility of the wind that had caused it.
He closed his eyes and imagined the specimen that he wanted to become: famous, for his intellect and work, a trailblazer of industry, a Greek god like physique, a cross-fit athlete and an incredibly good instrumentalist. He went in front of his mirror and looked at his belly for a few seconds, wincing, and quickly turned away, to avoid self-defeatist thoughts of victim hood and the lack of resources, which he believed were plain excuses, because the fact was that all actions began in the mind, and mental belief overcame physical toughness any day of the universe.
Today, his breakfast would consist of two bars of milk chocolate and two scrambled eggs, washed over with a mango milkshake, provided by two food joints, each situated five minutes from the other and a twenty minute walk from his office. Again and again, her image radiated in front of his eyes, as if cajoling him to think about reproduction.
He began to think about companionship again.