My current situation is that I have a few hours of work a day, and absolutely nothing else to do, yet I wish there were more hours in a day, so I could remain a few hours more, in my dreamy languor.

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I remember myself to be a sleepy child, spending a lot of my time daydreaming on my grandparents' sofa, while the sunlight filtered in, highlighting all the floating specs of dust in its rays. There was, and is a sense of guilt, that in the peak of my youth I could be doing something else, yet there is a comfort, contentment and cheeriness in this idleness.

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A few years ago, I was tired of spending the day all by myself, and I decided to partner with somebody for work, to keep me entertained. It worked out well for me, but since the past few months my partner has been on a sabbatical, and while work doesn't happen with the same fervour, I have really enjoyed the solitude.

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I spend the whole day reading books, online watching videos, allowing my mind to absorb bits of politics, neuroscience, biology, and savour whatever catches my fancy. My palatial house currently has many well lit nooks I like to snuggle into, and allow myself to meander down this rabbit hole that is the internet. There is guilt, that I spend too little energy, at a time when I should be doing high energy activities, but theres also a knowledge that there is no right way to live.

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My current dilemma is that I am not able to streamline, or absorb knowledge at the rate at which I would like to. Im intrigued by the body, its functioning, yet I don't know enough about anything to be able to do anything fruitful out of it.

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I have existential issues about my work, whether it will ever amount to anything worthwhile. With my current plan, or lack of thereof, there seems to be no scope for growth. Yet everything is overshadowed by my happy state of restfulness.

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I feel guilt for the incredibly happy life I live, and I wonder if I could do more socially. Help a large chunk of people, in any way.