Random rants

I'd read a poem once, long long ago. Don't really remember it all; but what it said could be loosely translated to mean that until the lions learn how to write, the hunter shall always be glorified, braver and also triumphant. In other words, when we hear / read something we know of only one side of the story. More often than not, the truth escapes our attention solely because we did not try too hard to validate facts.

The above snippet of information was (as is fondly called of late) a disclaimer to the fact that all of what you read below is my version of truth.

So here goes nothing..

I don't publish all of what I write. That's because I'm scared of people judging me. I know everyone judges anyway; but I'd rather not fuel the fire. There are times I think of things and then just cap them out because I'm too scared of putting that thought out in writing, out there just public and at times even my own scrutiny.

There's this person (about whom there would be more to come subsequently) who keeps telling me that I should write more. I'm not sure if he's only being nice or he really likes my writing or he enjoys the subtlest of signs of masochism in what I write. But he does say it well. I guess that's my motivation to write more often of late.
I know one thing for sure, though. I cannot be just writing. I need to do something more rewarding. I'm probably using a loose term here. When I say rewarding, I mean something with a timeline. Unless I've a timeline for something I tend to re-visit my work or lay it off until the last minute.

However there is this other reason why I will be terrible at writing. People.

The point is that the people wish to be able to understand what they read. When I write, I connect with me, my thoughts or views so much that I (with a reasonable logic) can decipher what I mean. I do proof read my pieces a few days later (except this one), just to confirm that my piece would make sense to any independent person. However, I miss one point. Reason is not automatic. There are individuals who don't see my point of view even after explicitly mentioning it. I've been through this multiple times.

For instance, what I was trying to say in "the victim" was that love is a luxury that one tends to get used to (I do not agree to it anymore, however .. till I hadn't really seen love in such close proximity, that's what I thought and if one looks around this fact remains true for most people). When people are in love they start accepting the significant other with all their flaws and even if flaws are all that remain at their disposal, they cannot feel any emotion other than love. Yes, it's complicated. Sometimes I don't realise which version of love do I feel is true. And then there are other times when I don't even know if I realise what being in love means. Recently, I was on the edge of falling in love. I contained myself. But wouldn't they say that if you could contain yourself, it never was love in the first place. Wait, I'm not sure if I've contained myself at all. Guess this is something I should think of maybe a few months hence. The topic at hand though .. back to the victim. It was amazing how people never viewed it as a complicated version of love. In honesty, other than the invalids, no one could proceed beyond the emotions that flew into them when they read about Maya. On the face of it, it is depressing (I get that, duh). But why wouldn't anyone appreciate the eccentricity of the emotion so widely known as love. It is wrong to love the person who brings you nothing but tears. But it's a choice she's entitled to make. Don't we all do things that don't make sense in the true sense of the term to people in general but probably is a source of peace otherwise, even if so just to one person!

I think I was a little hurt how not one person could see how attached I was to her. The problem remains that no one can see that. And in my head, I still think it's explicitly there.
Here comes a theory a cousin once explained to me (oh! The amount of distasteful memories I have of the individual. Just for the record, he's one of the top 5 reasons why I cannot trust good things can happen).
Anywho. The theory says that if someone is asleep you can wake him / her up. If someone, however, is pretending to sleep, you can't. In other words, when one denies reason, one can disprove gravity. It is that simple.

Oh yes! However, I do overcome my cowardice and publish a lot of stuff because sometimes, it's a good idea to gain perspective on the words I choose to express my point of view. Thus far, I've sucked. But, hey! It's worth trying.

Denial.

I like Denial.

I have been told I am in the denial mode perpetually. And there is a reason why I like it.

I was watching this episode of house the other day. It said that following are the five stages of death: Anger, denial, bargain, depression, acceptance. Pretty much applied to anything in life in general, I'd say.

Hey! Don't judge me, not yet, not just for this. There is a reason why I like denial. And obviously, I'll explain here why..

I've been told that anger doesn't particularly help. Though, I'd beg to differ most often, but for the purpose of proving this point, let's say it doesn't. Me getting angry at others won't help me, neither would it change others. So I try not to get angry. Though, like a lot of other things, I do fail miserably at that attempt.
(If I might add, I do find anger therapeutic. It may not change the circumstances, events, environment or the perpetrator of misfortune. But it does help cleanse the frustration. Which, in a way, does help. However, I get too attached to thing, people, or my impression of these things, and people. And I do have a terribly hard time letting go. When I am angry, it is a sign of hope. Hope that things would change eventually or rather the imminent change is undone. The times that I don't get angry, well, that's when I pretend that I have given up. That, my friend, is me being a hypocrite. Trust me, every time I say that I have given up, I am only looking for a reassurance that I need not. I don't like being a hypocrite, so I attach insane amount of worldly logic to it; which, basically, is me trying to con myself into believing something that I don't intend to. Ever.)

Sigh! Random rants! Guess I am in that zone again.

Where were we?
Yeah, I try not to get angry, but I do. But it is pointless. Ergo, not helpful. Therefore, not the state one would want to be in. Not me, at least.

Stage 2: Since this is the conclusion (in a weird way, funny even). Let's park that for the last.

Stage 3: Bargain.
Ok. Here's the deal. Humans, whatever number of them that I do know, bargaining is lying. To who, is a matter of perspective. For instance, the subject of a few of my prose, was in love. Man! Was it adorable! He wrote letters, he did all the stupid things one wouldn't admit to doing otherwise. But then when it all went south, we would spend hours talking where I'd convince him that it still remains to be the best thing that ever happened to him and then there were times when I told him to let go and he'd convince himself and me that if this won't work, nothing ever shall. We were both right in our days. But the bargain, not only was it highly annoying, it was also wrong.
Primarily because we were both trying to accommodate the facts of the circumstances into the brackets of truth and myth alike. Both were trying to pretend to be wise. Both were trying to solve a situation, initially, but thereafter, both were only trying to prove oneself right. A petty thing called logic ceased to matter after a point of time.
To an extent bargaining may be constructive. But beyond a point, bargaining is an act of lying to oneself that what is not particularly your own can be clung to. It is, if nothing else, a way of pretending that if you scream something loudly enough and frequently enough, it'll become true.

Unfortunately enough, I have a pretty black - and - white impression of truth. If you need to convince anyone of your version of truth, it ain't worth it. Hence, not my favorite stage.

Stage 4: Depression

Though I keep saying things to the contrary pretty often, I am not particularly a depressing person. I listen to sad / painful music. Albeit some would even consider it soulful. I notice the sad in a situation before the glad. I, do, hold grudges against myself for trusting a few people, loving a few people and not letting go of things. Yes. Despite all of that. I am not a depressing person. When i come to think of it, I am but a child who's been forced to grow up in a world of haughty people who may not be grown up themselves, but insist that I should be. And naive that I am, under the peer pressure of needing to fit in and under the intense desire for acceptance / approval, I caved.
You know, I don't really expect much of people. I only need petty things to be happy. But I tell people that I am depressed, only so as to set the expectations low. Because, if they know that I can be happy, they will expect me to be the face of sunshine happy people are. And given the fact that I can get hurt just as easily as I can be happy, it becomes increasingly difficult to be what they expect you to be. (Yes! A lesson I learnt the hard way. You don't get it, eh? I am happy for you).
If you ask me, it is not fair to be depressed over anything. If it was to happen, it'd have. Such is life. But I guess, it'd be easier to sulk over something than it would be to get over it. So, let's just say it is a little pointless, shall we?

Stage 5: Acceptance.
Isn't this stage tantamount to conceding defeat? Accepting what you did not want to in the first place. How I can let myself stoop to this level! I am but a free spirit.
What I believe stands out about me or segregates me from the ordinary is that in a world of stones, I know that I am the glass. I tricked people for a while by being a mirror, but I guess that was such preposterous a try that I fell flat, probably even cracked myself a bit. But now, that I have resorted to being the glass, I am not allowing myself to accept anything. So this stage was never an option anyway.


There. We have dealt with all stages. All but one.

There was a movie I once saw. The girl said that she was lying to herself when she said that she had a happy life. But she was certain that she wanted to continue lying. Because that is the only way she can be happy. I was dumb at first. But when you think of it, it is deep.
I like that. I probably live a dream. But I'd rather not be woken up. I choose to live in the manner which pleases me the most. Not you, not anyone else. Me.
It is a little surprising how I can be that narcissistic. But that is something all humans are, at some level. So I am allowing myself this one little vice. It may be a lie. But I will cling to it if that is what it takes to be happy. A part of me tells me that it is unlike me. But there is this other part of me, that screams, why not!

Though one would wonder, if it really is happiness if you know it won't last for long. In my defense, one could also put forth an argument that no form of happiness, or even love, has - thus far - known to last long.
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One of those that I found unraveling when I ransacked my bag.

See you around!