The Wall

People are strange. And more than being bothered by their strangeness, it amuses me. Lately, I, as a person have discovered a holistic more wholesome approach to spending my life. I have learned to be alone, and I have learned to enjoy that. Life is unkind and I have been treated in an unkind way. I have regressed my functions so that they involve least contact with the civilized society and I have regressed behind what I term a metaphorical wall. Here behind my wall, things are comfortable. There is least human contact which serves me with almost no sufferable pain. I do things, only those things which please me, in a ruthless, heartless way. I am selfish. I feel full of potential to fathom my dreams.  Human contact in majority of cases only serves one purpose: to hinder the person in realizing and reaching  their true potential. It clouds their minds. Hiding their dreams behind murky clouds of self doubt, confusion, pain and happiness. One can only reach their true potential when one is behind walls like mine. Being at your full potential is momentously joyous. You feel unbeatable, remarkable, inspired meant for and capable of taking upon legendary ambitions that were just till then figments of your mind. Having said all that, I have to say that at certain points your emotional being fights back. The idea that you need people in your life to somehow be better off is so deep rooted in our subconscious that you eventually do question these self inflicted states of isolation, you, at moments long for some kind of contact. This longing is something that I find rather incomprehensible. You think of things, people, the circumstances that led you to this place. You don't completely lose track of those. You mull over them and sometimes may even suffer the same pain again. You cry till your eyes sting on sleepless nights. You miss the person that you fell in this dark trench for, you think of what could have been and what was. And yet this state is better than that constant state of falling deeper and deeper into unknown territory, no man's land. At least behind my wall I have some form of control. If nothing I can bask in the shadow of yesterday's good memories. I am still learning to live behind a wall, and I think my incomprehensible longings and needs are just that. I believe in my wall and that someday I will completely lose track of these human longings, and then me and my wall would exist in truest of senses. And that it would be better than just being lost in the maze of people, society, their opinions of you. If this is madness. I wish to embrace insanity. Like I have embraced no other entity.  I also sometimes pity people around me for being lost in these mazes. I see them for the hapless, naïve and dumb beings they are choosing to be. I try to help them. But a advice is as vain a prospect as seeing dark clouds and hoping it won't rain. People only hear what they want to hear. Always end up doing what they wished to anyway. I am no different to that either. But I wish for someone sometimes to break on through to this other side of living that I have discovered. A little foreign perspective might help me to prove or disprove this theory in its entirety. Maybe I need that.

My Question.

How do you fight fate? Something, a possibility that is never bound to happen? When the sheer nullness of the probability of its happening stares you in the face?
How do you see it?
How do you face it? That is my question.
When all you can see is how much you want to be in that place where that certain scenario is a reality, how much peace and perfection that is going to bring to your life.
How do you fight fate, the ultimate universal boundation to reality and freedom that we cheerfully live in, crave for and knit for ourselves,
How do i fight fate?
And, yes, i also exist with the knowledge that after a while acceptance is going to fill my mind and how it will surely seem like a 'good idea' to forget, to move on over something that was never meant to be.
It is plainly strange how small this moment where acceptance is not acceptable is? How after a while i will disagree.
How some part of myself is always going to loathe itself for not being able to find reasons to waste myself over this simple idea of not accepting fate and fighting against it.
How do you fight fate? That is my question. That is what i wish to learn.
I am writing this today to somehow keep a record of today in my days to come and of the state of mind i am finding myself in today,
In future, i would want to remember this girl, no matter what i become later,
her insecurities, her high hopes, the sheer extent of her emotions and the sheer extent of her ability to experience these emotions, the immense and the immenseness of the numerous scenarios and possibilities that plague her mind, her soul, her heart.

Our Demise

The night remains silent

The air, rotten and still

No voices to be heard

In this anonymous, bleak chill

The cold that freezes my soul

That drenches my heart

Roams out in the open

Awaiting a new fresh start

I lie here my body curled awkwardly around

The walls stare at my mottled soul, speechless

My tears burn through my skin

The pain I know is the only thing

Which can redeem me from you

I’ve had my share of mistakes

But you too are no saint

Like foolish children

We continue to paint

Our hearts over and over

And yet over again

So that no one, now, can recognize

Our slow and shallow demise.

A Mere Beginning

I have come to realize that sleep is a bitter form of refuge. You think that it is going to help you but you always end up waking up to the same situations that you have been running away from. It only delays judgment. But judgment has to come no matter how or when. And usually when it is thrown upon our shoulders we complain that we did not want things to go this way. Anyway, I feel I lack the strength to face life. I am constantly running away from situations. Ignorance is what I am living in. it is my new best friend. But don’t we all at certain points in our life choose to live in ignorance? Especially when the circumstances are averse. Or when we are just simply helpless. But the ways of this world tell me that this isn’t how this is supposed to be.

Everyone is used to having two selves. One is the inner self and the other is the outer self which is in show for the world. This is the one which we mould as per rules or rather norms of what is socially acceptable. I have created for my self an ‘outer self’ that seems impeccably perfect. I have faced so much heartbreak, have lost so much of faith in the ways of this world that I now have found a new refuge: I have started living in this outer self. This outer self is rooted in the soil of ignorance. It is nothing but a façade of bravery to save me from my inner self. The self who is full of unanswered questions that hurt and bleed like unattended wounds whenever I move too much, with problems that need to be solved but whose solution isn’t in sight.

So to say, my inner self is the real me, that I cannot show anyone. The me who is hurt, crying, condemning all her mistakes. It is at every moment face to face with all the questions and memories that haunt me, that are nothing but pure pain. These are the things which throw me back in the depths of my despair.

So, no wonder I fled.

But I cannot escape.

Maybe I don’t even want to. I feel hollow without my inner self. I feel numb. How can one ever escape his true being? His real purpose.

Writing has always been my outlet, my refuge. But lately I have given it up too. I just lack the faith that I need to continue to write. I haven’t touched my diaries for months. And it wasn’t the case too that any such desire ever surfaced. But I have also come to face the fact that I cannot stand this hollowness anymore. I have to be what I am.

I need to tend my wounds. They need to heal, not be forgotten. I am going to be myself again. I will find answers because I have realized that is the only way to close the book and really move on. Even if no one else is going to contribute or contemplate those. Just the way someone said to me ‘don’t blog because you want people to read, blog because you want to express or write.’

And after all they are an integral part of my soul, my existence.

So, here it’s me coming out of my blank page situations and I am choosing to write again, to be myself again.

I am finally going to wake up. And I hope to make this a profound record of my journey from now on.