Contented

You don't always get what you want, in fact most of the time one might complain how things never go their way but if looked upon from another perspective, you might actually understand that with every bit of light taken away from you, a part of darkness goes away too.

One of my best friends got nikkah-fied and I wasn't able to be a part of her big day. The ceremony was in the country I'm currently staying though another city, but going was possible...I've been planning on what to wear and how to go from about 12 months and in the end things came up and I missed it.

The time when I was told I won't be able to attend the event at 1pm next day, I couldn't stop crying and being angry at all those who made it less possible... I remember clearly spending the entire class crying and the following night sulking, was rude to almost everyone who talked to me [and I apologize now] and hated every bit of my life. It was a moment when everything and everyone was just another thing and person I wish didn’t exist, seemed like my life ended and I had no purpose to live: p I couldn’t think of a time when I was any more depressed and I kept justifying my absurd behavior by telling myself and other how important it was for me to go and how I’ve been working and thinking on it ever since I came to know!

During those funny hours when I was on my bed in an insanely dramatic pose sobbing and sniveling about how unfair life is and how the world came down crashing in the blink of an eye, wondering how happy I used to be and thinking of myself as a tragic phenomenon of this century; I failed to realize how immature and typically juvenile I was being. A few hours later when the night passed and I got to see faces of the few people I love and my day started as routine and things seemed pretty much normal, when I could actually ‘think’ and life wasn’t after all ‘dark and gloomy’ I realized how all my friends made an effort to cheer me up, not to mention I didn’t miss any chance to exploit it and even though they knew it , each one of them kept being incredibly adoring and exceedingly caring, you guys didn’t make it so obvious, it is understood when you do something even though everybody knows how much you hate to.

Anyway the purpose of writing all of this was just to express how much I appreciate my life; you’ll find many reasons as well, you only have to look for it! Life is indeed overrated, it always has the best for you, and all you need is a new perspective J

Appalling Inspiration

The other day when I was asked about my inspiration, I thought for a while. Its funny how I couldn’t think of a person or a thing that inspired me to pen down my thoughts, I gave the notion a lot of time yet days passed and both the extremes of my brain couldn’t search for a pleasing answer. I realize I’m an amateur, yet there had to be a trigger somewhere! After all no one wakes up one morning and goes for divulging their most vulnerable side.

I struggled and skimmed through stuff that I once wrote and read; a lot of things from a lot of different times. Started off reading my own then went from published works of famous writers to random articles by strangers and ended up with realization. There was a lot that I read in the past few days, maybe more than I’ve ever done in my entire life. I then sensed a weird pattern, I remember being asked of my ‘type’ and never being able to answer it. It wasn’t because I wasn’t aware of what I like; but it was exactly because I wasn’t aware of what I like! And how would I, never really had a ‘type’. The thing I discovered was that I never looked for the story or admiring characters, I didn’t care if the author was a best seller or if the articles had good ratings, all I looked for was an enunciation of the fear I had deep down in me. I found it intimidating yet fascinating at the same time.

They say it’s hard to accept what you fear the most, I believe otherwise. Anything is possible but to be in denial about your fear isn’t! One way or the other, all of my imagination and perspective desperately sided towards the dark despite how hard I tried to grip the grey. The depression and anxiety took many forms and ways to come out, just never ended until I admitted unlike life, it isn’t mortal.

I looked up and thought how life inspired me to write, how I realized the worthlessness of materiality, it showed me how words could add emotions and expressions, on which however many diverge. It made sense yet didn’t satisfy me.

Life isn’t eloquent in nature and the words can easily depict the emptiness that is otherwise neglected, it’s a form of art that is often underestimated. Colors could cause mood swings but words can be eternal and even fatal. How the same word can mean thousands of different things and how those words fit in different contexts each time make a complete different sentence, so perhaps it was the words that stimulated my mind. Convincing enough but each time a part of me didn’t agree.

There are many reasons why I write. Mostly to let out what’s inside, things that otherwise I couldn’t have said; other days I’m sharing an observation or an experience. What isn’t palpable is the concept of preserving parts of my life in places that aren’t bound to my mortality.

With that I comprehended that my fear of disappearance is my inspiration. It was the thought of dying that stimulated me to write, the terror was what gave me the right perspective, the mortality was what gave me the attitude. Death is the worst thing that could happen to a being; however for me it turned out to be an inspiration.

And unless my fear is reality, my inspiration remains! Treasuring little pieces of lives, caring about the smallest of smiles, and not just a cliché, but truly and completely living in the moment!

‘Life isn’t good, but life is always fair’ and if there is a birth, there will be a death to balance the equation.

hello.

Things are always a mess when I start posting another entry here, but it’s comical how I feel a lot better by the time I actually post it. While people have siblings, friends, books, mobile phones or psps, I have a keyboard and my pen. I actually find myself quiet lucky to be able to write, it doesn’t matter how good or bad I am at it. Writing is one thing that have always given me a lot more than I expected, infact each time I was attracted to it more. Even when I gave up on it, it didn’t, and today after so many months I’m back with millions of stories inside my head.

Nothing aligned or organized, it’s a pool of words that forms an ocean and drowns me inside. After seeing how bad I am with people and relations, I’ve decided not to invite any further mess. It’s good to be reserved and lonely rather than having a bunch of people who you can’t rely on. No offence meant to my friends or any other person reading this, it’s just a random thought, an observation I strongly believe.

Every time I complain about either a friend or family, there are many who oppose my thought, they have thousands of reasons and facts to prove me wrong, every time they strive to make me realize that I’m mistaken and things aren’t the way I see. Every time I’m accused of being immature and small minded however I haven’t met a more optimistic mind than mine in ages. Well it’s natural that I ignore the compliments and keep whining about the comments they passed on me, but It works good for me.

I’m the kind of person who enjoys knowing more about me, and every other day is a new experience. All the stupid steps that I take make me cry and laugh after wards, but in the long run I’m glad that there isn’t a part of life that I’m not missing on.