“Savor life: don’t just breathe it in; exhale the moment to intake the next.”-KC Rhoads
Hope….you lose every day, but get yourself back together. Should you?
A deep urge to break, but you hold back. Why? Why do you?
Beg for a normal life, but they say wish we could have yours; while with a smile, a puzzled expression you walk away. Just.
An uncanny feeling when you know you are dying and your world just rotates around- ‘What is next?’. An emotionally driven mental picture you’ve drawn, of the mortal world’s reaction to you being gone.
Stop. Would anyone react?
Weren’t you the same person who picked up the phone multiple times to no text, no call, with the iPhone’s Raise to wake only to show you the time and maybe 8 Ball Pool notifications on its screen, man was that a good game.
Be yourself they said. But less did they know, that you could but only be two things- A pleaser, or a copy artist. Ignored you would be, otherwise.
Yes. Fake is the world we live in. The you, you don’t get to be. Judged, when you do. Ain’t that just saddening.
A ransom, you wish you could pay, to be released from this captive. A captive they call life. Life?
Then there are those who say, when shit goes south, just smile. Smile and tell yourself it’s gon’ be okay. No. You refuse to. ‘Then refuse’ they say.
Stunned and introspecting mentally, you go like- ‘really?’
An impasse. Again. That’s where you found yourself. This time, probably with a job.
Hey…they said, look, you have a normal life. School. College. Job. How normal could it possibly get. But then there’s the you already counting days. Or probably already dead. You can’t tell them.
You want to. But can you?
Dying not because of a disease. Sometimes, life in itself could be the sickness. Or a sickness, you could be their’s.
‘Guess what else I tried’ you mean to tell them- ‘Screw what they say, be yourself’. Wait, hold that thought. Isn’t that exactly where you started?
Your emotions are not you! With that free tip, you take a breather and smile. Again, there came hope.
This one’s for you readers (the other lot). When approached, not necessarily their desperation, sometimes, they only need a friend. One they could talk to. One they could share their emotions with, or possibly even one they would like to spend the rest of their life with.
But when you shut them out, judging them by impulse, remember, you might be destroying not only their self confidence, but that person as a whole.
By this time you must be pondering upon who is this they I keep repeating. They my friend, are those many folks out there who are very different from the pretensive world a majority of you have accepted. They are just like anyone else, normal people. But unfortunately, often misunderstood, often disregarded, avoided with no reason, or in some cases also envied.
They could be anyone, maybe a little too ambitious in nature, maybe filled with too much upfront goodness, maybe at times also hard to understand, but why can’t we give them a second chance. Don’t they deserve that?
Some get the complete trip of life, while some when still alive are no better than dead, and in isolation they spend, the rest of whatever is left. You wouldn’t get it.
Ever felt your hands twitch and you rub them hard against each other in hopelessness and all you needed that second was the company of someone…or something. Maybe of a pot of cacti, or someone who would just tell them- ‘So what if this is who you are or how you are. Everyone can’t be the same? However you are, you are just fine’.
That’s all that moment needed.
Have you ever felt the sudden surge of an unexplained directionless force, or energy perhaps jut out and you just want to run. Not wanting to hurt yourself, but you would like some form of pain to either tear you apart or kill you. That…readers, is also where depression begins.
For few, it changes them monumentally. For some, it’s the point where they break, and give up.
Also readers, here’s a little surprise to those who might reminisce as you read and/or find themselves guilty (maybe vaguely) of being a cause of pain at some part of your lives, you wouldn’t have thought this, but you are what they call murderers.
Not necessary that there must only be blood involved. Neither only with the other person’s mortal demise.
But your acts could also cause them mental pain, that turns them into a mortal ruin. As much as you’d like to deny this to be your mistake, there’s no running away from it. Maybe they don’t say it, but yes…this is reality.
Let’s change that?
Let’s start accepting people as they come?
All it takes is, acceptance!
‘Let’s stop hurting people. Let’s be humans first?’