Starting off to a peculiarly unusual feel this time around, for the tête-à-tête with a close buddy ticked me off to a vague mood that triggered a series of clustered thoughts as to what in veracity people oblige and visualize off of you.
As divulged earlier, the very idea of what each person implies when they pronounce “I love you” perplexes me. Well, some people love other people, some love money, some love their possessions and some love themselves. Hardly any people had exposé their ‘love’ for me and I have been quiet moved for I’m not the nearest and dearest of theirs, nor had I done anything at all to deserve such perplex remarks. Skeptical on why anyone would ‘love’ me, I began to assemble the fact-jigsaw – How could anyone love me? What did I possess for anybody to love me? Ought I to be loved although I didn’t love anyone or anything? I did not even love myself.
Subsequent to discovering this information, thinking profoundly, glancing into my inner vision, I initiated an investigation to uncover the truth for myself. I didn’t love anyone, anything in material, money, or my own self. And now, I had stopped caring for the same.
Discerned now of the truth that I’d ceased to care, questions started to rain as to why had that happened? Did I believe that the realm of humanity had stopped doing the same for me? Was it because of forgotten birthdays? Was it because of the allusion of lies from the ones closest to me? Was it because of wrecked weekends that I desired to expend like the old days, but weren’t doable in view of the fact that they’d got newer friends who’re cooler and closer than me that they just don’t have enough time for me. But though I consider to a great extent for them, I stand as veto substance for them and it just doesn’t matter in reality for them.
It’s generally the smaller things in my life that make me happy. But as times change, people change. I don’t know why I could never be normal, never love anyone, never love material possessions, never love myself, could never be self-centered, self-interested, selfish or could never be human. Now that I have impeded concerns over every matter, I sense, as each day of the week passes, I turn more and more inhuman.
But its fine, I’ll try living without them, just clinging onto the implication that their new friends shall keep them happy. Hopefully you’ll find someone to replace me. In the end, it’s all nice and pleasant.
Kal koi tha yahii,
Ab koi bhi nahii
Ab toh dil roothe dard manane,
Aisi hai tanhaaii
Saaya bhi saath jab chchodh jaaye,
Aisi hai tanhaaii
Ab koi bhi nahii
Ab toh dil roothe dard manane,
Aisi hai tanhaaii
Saaya bhi saath jab chchodh jaaye,
Aisi hai tanhaaii
What I had when I was a child wasn’t with me anymore. Who I was amongst, had I lost. Not familiar who has been gone or who is missing today. Is it someone I had known or was it one that I didn’t? Or is it just myself who isn’t with me today? Maybe it is me, walking through ruins lacking my shadow, weeping through the hours of night devoid of tears, living through life without a pulse in my heart along a path of thorns amidst darkness of sorrow. Perhaps I had lost myself whilst assuming that a friend had been misplaced. Having lost trust in my self-right to suicide, I deserve to die.
Do We, Do We Know?
When We Fly,
When We Go,
Do We Die?
When We Fly,
When We Go,
Do We Die?
- Q
