Exhaustion from a Wave of Optimism that I should have known too good to be true

 Aren't we all too connected? I'm exhausted at having the world condensed into a 5.8" screen that weighs approximately 150 grams. It fits into the palm of my hands, and gives me no excuse to refuse participation in the on-goings of the world despite being isolated in a room I cannot leave, 8 floors above the supposedly busy streets of Bukit Bintang. Would it be irresponsible of me if I deliberately made myself unreachable? As I should be. 

Closed-off and shut in like a diseased pig, I should lose all sense of time save for discerning when it is day, and when it is night. Though that is not the case, as I can know down to the second this precise instant is. I stand by the wide panes, never once thinking that I should like to join the slow walkers and backpack carrying salary men.  

Scrolling through my WhatsApp history, what used to be a friends and family only chatting application now hosts a a string of unsaved, and unknown numbers, offering me jobs that were never intended for me, asking for details then never heard from again. And I sigh, losing hope with each breath. Since a young age, I knew I never wanted a life like this. So I thought I could write, write my way out of the socially paved order of things but that also amounted to nothing. 

To say that the future is looking grim when ever since the start of this year the planet has gone to shit, is I think, at this point in time, nothing more than a silent whimper. I had been hopeful. The blue skies of Hikone and its crying cicadas gave me the energy of an excited child during summer vacation. But now that I've left and can no longer hear the creatures calling out from the bushes, the echoes of city life that knock on my window day and night demand a compensation for that carefree summer full of optimism, loud with laughter. Now that good times have ended, I have to bear the weight that comes off as the flip-side of happiness. 

I have another 11 days to sort myself out before I step into the giant pressure cooker that's preparing a dish called 'Future of Rachel'.