I have a lot to say, but I am going to be to the point to the extent possible because I am simply too tired and it is nearly 1 am. I am a totally messed up person. The Date - 10 Feb 2010 - will burn forever in the depths of me. This is the day on which the person closest to me at this phase of life proved to me how much he trusted me. I do not intend to sound accusing, but if it be so, so be it.
I have a very queer mind, one that goes on to think about an issue others would discard as frivolous to great depths till it is so totally obsessed about the thoughts surrounding the issue, that it fails to rise up to other demanding occasions when the situation demands it. And these thoughts are so overpowering, that they consume most of the thinking faculties of my head for most of the time till I lose all the ability to get things done and I need someone to confide in, which invariably leads to the next woe - and if you guessed people, you guessed right.
In my 21 years on Mother Earth, I have never seen as diverse an enigma as people. So many kinds, so many people. To name a few, there are the bold ones and the timid one, the brave ones and the cowardly ones, the bossy ones and the push overs, the boastful ones and the modest ones, and of course, the tall ones, the short ones, the thin ones, the fat ones, the jittery ones - the list is bottomless. It is indeed difficult to understand how people get together and manage to stick their necks for each other despite all their differences. In all my 21 years, I have met so many different people, of which I would consider myself lucky if I could count the ones I really liked with my fingers and toes - but a score of people would never be enough for anyone to get by the tempest that is life. For in distress, we go about looking for shoulders to lean on and find none - not one among the 20 pairs of shoulders we counted on. And people are truly filled to their neck with their convictions and silly principles abound in them. They expect everyone else but them to give them an ear when they are crying out in distress and share a laugh with them for all their not-so-funny jokes. You cry out, you will realize you are all alone in the universe. And more so, the people around you, they seem to know you, but in truth, they have known you as well as they have learnt about the moon. And to think of people, in my mind, would be thinking of sacs with arms, legs and a head, filled with fart that the head utters out in words.
This brings us to the tools that establish, maintain and uproot the bonds between people - W O R D S. They are simply arrows with the arrowheads dipped in poison. They work like magic for those who slap them on people like you slap butter on bread and spread it. For some, they work like the bed of needles that work for the fakir. For some others, they are supposedly the balm that heals their wounds, only that they never realize that the balm is in preparation for greater hurt on their skin. How sweet every word that falls in one's ears and how closer to diabetes it pushes the listener! So terribly sickening, that the usage of words is expected to be done with a lot of caution exercised and the usage, very minimal, so that any damage, if caused, is, as a result, jusqu'un peu.
Why am I saying all this?
Simplest reason to that would be - I am frustrated with my mind, with people and with words. I am sick and tired of having to listen to the words uttered by the people that get to work on my mind.
Any why am I bothered?
Some say I have a kind heart, others say I tend to think a lot about so many things concerning people I like - what a load of balderdash! I am bothered because I am being me!
And why should people say no to me being me?
The answer is - I do NOT know! I love me being me, but others do not. Does that mean I have to consider becoming someone else just so the person gets in better terms with me? Absolutely not! It's my life and I am not switching my self for what someone wants my self to be, in order to please somebody.
Now, why am I frustrated despite my accurate knowledge about all that is me?
I cannot put a finger as to why this particular question can be given no answer from me, so my best guess could be, that it is a part of me being my self.
Now ain't that enough cause for me to stop the grumbling and get going? Why am I not doing that?
That's easily answered - this is because of my mind, again.
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