The Blog Of Dysfunction

Honesty does not come to me easily, honesty hurts, and I hate being hurt. In fact escaping hurt it the single most powerful driving and guiding force that shapes my emotional life.

I hate working in a busy hospital. In fact I hate working in a hospital. I love my life, as I am sure everyone does, but I want it t myself, not to be entirely dictated by others, in this instance patients. I know, it sounds horrible coming from a doctor, educated in one of the finest institutions this part of the world can offer, yet in all my years in med school and now my internship I am yet to be convinced that this is the right choice of profession for me.

I want to live in a small house in the suburbs, with a small clinic operating from the spare room, which gives me the money I need to spend my day and life and reading and writing and being a pen-activist.

Or I want to live in a small village up north in the foot hills of a mountain and empower them by bringing to them education and favorable legislation.

But who really knows what I will end up doing tomorrow, time changes a lot of things.

Being an existential cynic sucks if you want to cheer yourself up.