It breaks your heart some times to see the people you love so much, wallowing in despair. And to be able to do nothing about it. Sure you can talk to them. But what do I say? Stay strong, be patient, resilience bears fruits. As I have observed, none of it quite seems to work. A confidence once floating in abundance shows no signs of trace now. Some days, you just can’t make a person you care about stop crying. And it’s fine. Them confiding enough in you to show their weak bits is a support enough. Some days, you just have to be there and remind yourself to not lose YOUR patience or faith in them. Be an anchor till the ship is ready to sail may be.
Sometimes, I feel it is an okay thing to be lost and dreamy. To be so immersed in your own disorderliness that propriety feels uncanny. You get comfortable in your skin, not vain, yet extremely defensive of any change suggested otherwise. Things that made you extremely insecure at one point of time do not make much sense now. You have outgrown your own subtle dilemmas; outgrown some ties; probably outgrown some people too. Came in terms with your follies. Forgiven yourself and forgiven people who may have wronged you in the past.
Watched this movie today: Mr.Nobody, and got stuck to a quote from it:
Every path is the right path. Everything could have been anything else and it would have just as much meaning.
Living in peace does seem like a ridiculously difficult summit to achieve but one can always work in that direction.
P.S. : The title could even be Sleep Deficit Grown up talks. :D.
“I love you. But you are on your own now.”
These words could invoke loneliness at a whole new level. You have someone but only as empathetic as the wall in your room. You can’t run to them. You can’t demonstrate your authority over them. You cannot even complain to the universe. You lay in your bed, head tilted upside down embracing the emptiness inside your head. Plenty of questions. No answers. In life, at times, one trips over circumstances which are not a throughput of your own deeds. I want to say, accept what comes. Cringe. Dole. Find your own way through. Try and accept it.
We lived a moment of sheer joy. There was peace, there was ecstasy. There was fire, there was warmth. Your arms were a safe haven for me. My frailty did good to your virility. Yes, it was almost picture perfect. Now, you want to talk about it? I say, don’t ruin it for me. Why kill something by stretching it too far. Moments are not a ductile tape. Let them be intact. Let’s not defame it from our words, our logical reasonings, our shallow promises, our moral compasses. I can’t stand you falsely wanting for me and pretension is not my forte. Let’s take a place in each other’s memory and move ahead. You need to understand, we are not Romeo and Juliet. We are only some transitory outcomes of our impulsive indiscretions. Brutal but true.
Be true to your heart. Face lies, employ pretense, compromise with the world, fall, rise, stumble, reach new heights, fly higher clouds, hit rock bottom, witness vivid colours of life, make mistakes, make lots of them, but no matter what you do, no matter what happens to you, be true to yourself. There is this whole gargantuan world you know nothing about and there’s you. Atleast we can be sure about ourselves. At the end of the day we shouldn’t be asking ourself questions like…Who am I kidding? It’s one life. Why live a false one.
This weekend has been a relaxing one. A little too relaxing I would say. When you are not doing anything, your mind runs in myriad directions. It dwells into the past, it tries to foresee the future. Either way, you sit back and contemplate and draw new conclusions for yourself. I have had very less interaction with the outside world since last three days and ample of time to ponder. Probably one of the reasons why I am writing down right now. I slept, went out for a stroll, I ate, I shopped, I read the news, and now I am writing. I could talk to my friends but I would rather not for today. Some are away. I guess the ones I wanna talk to are away. Anyway. There I was wondering, given to my weekend free time. Procrastination could be coined as a disease. It’s doing me lot of harm. I have activities lined up in my head and no urge to carry them forward. No push. No zeal. If only, something inside me could twist and curl and turn me all spunky! More disciplined. About my guitar lessons, my routine, about my unfinished novels, about numerous other stuff. I want to outgrow these stupid little weekend thoughts. Work it girl! There is no other go. They won’t have a cure as they haven’t termed it a disease yet. May be I’ll come up with a more activity-filled article next weekend if things go right. If my head works right I mean!