Life · Love

I Just Need to Write

I am screaming alone, all by myself in the dark. Wondering what the hell am I doing back in this place which I thought I had left forever long ago. As it turns out, some places cannot be left. Some people ask me why I am so dark. So blue. They wonder how someone so drab and dull can ever do anything exciting. But I can. I am hovering inches above reality. My feet touch solid ground sometimes but I’m not even sure whether that surface is real or just another hallucination.

So the reason why I am drab is because it is countered by something on the inside. Something so exquisitely sensitive, it will die in the light. I only have two states of being: I will either feel everything or I will feel nothing.

I have been called every name in the book. I have felt the kind of emotions that made me want to go and live in a cave until I decided to collide with them headlong.

What am I now?

I don’t know. But I cannot run from myself anymore. I have been dumped at the very golden gates that I was afraid to open.

And on the other side? I have no clue what will be there. But then I try to think of the time before now. Did I have any clue, anyway? No. I was always just walking like a zombie through life. It is impossible to be anyone else.

And so I was laughing when I should have been crying and in a parallel reality when I should have been on the floor. I am scarred, I realized, more than I knew before. Once I was sure of that, once I had accepted that, the rest was easy.

After that there was no need to run and hide anymore. I could accept myself. Maybe even forgive myself. I wonder why people seem so surprised at my reactions to things. But they don’t know that I don’t feel the things that I should feel. I feel the things I shouldn’t feel, instead.

There is a reason they say, that old people are set in their ways. They have been that way for so long. What do I want to be when I am old? I guess I get to deal myself one card. I think I already dealt it long back and it changed the course of everything. Whatever has been happening since has been a shout in the void.

Which brings me back to the fact that I am alone in the dark, with nothing and nobody. I am clueless in so many ways. I am fearless in so many others. At the crux of the matter is the damning realization that nobody cares. The day I reach the Zen-like state of no expectations? That shall be the day I shall feel liberated. It isn’t going to come. Not to someone like me. But I have learnt to not let the universe make promises to me. It has no reason to keep them. It wouldn’t care if it obliterated just another blob of reproducing cells. Why on earth would that change the course of anything?

There is no reason to anything. Not to the events that make my life a ‘life’, nor to the changes that make me continuously question, falter, alter, metamorphose. So for what am I turning in my grave? For nothing. I have been and I shall be alone. I don’t want to.

The next step is to heal- to erase the emotions that are an impediment in the way of that. Everything from hate to love, from love to lust (as crooned Ed Sheeran). But for how long can I be okay without these? Forever seems like too short a time right now.

And then, most importantly, I must face people. People who think they know best. Who might not think that way but their well-intentioned gestures and conversations can become torturous. How am I supposed to pull myself through that?

I can only ask myself one question. Have I the power to forgive myself and everyone who has ever hurt me? The answer to this has been yes for a very long time. I don’t know whether this makes me stronger or weaker.

I don’t want to meet people. I don’t want my premises questioned. I don’t know right from wrong. I just know something changed and it will never be the same. I hope I am able to maintain this objectivity throughout the rest of it.

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