Some days, i'm just done. Done with the craziness, the lies, the insensitivity, the expectations, the everything.
And those days are almost always like 'some days' . i want to move on. Anything anyone says is like a falsetto, only less musical. A cacophony. A phoney. Who phoney? Me phoney? Me phoney. i feel like a phoney. Every word i say, i write, i don't feel the words. What i want to say, there are no words. What i feel, too basic for any word.
All false. Every word i read, it feels like an exaggeration, at effort, to look different, to catch the eye. It catches and then loses. No feeling. Every other person is trying to be. A wannabe. Please stop proving to me who you are. I seriously do not care. So do not try to impress me. I don't want to be impressed. I catch your false notes too easily. Do not shroud yourself in mystery. Please don't make the effort. I will not make an effort to disbelieve, Be yourself. I shall believe.
I'm sure there is nothing wrong with people. It is me. I have had my fill. I'm done. Can i become a bairaagi? A hermit? I'm too restless. Too much of myself. too much into myself to fit into that role. Where would i go anyways? No one and nothing will make me happy. Because i'm not happy with myself. This isn't what i am. This isn't what i want.
i live in between to extremes. Hopelessness, utter disillusionment with falsehood, with lies, with manipulation . And then some hope.
Today, i'm searching for some hope again. Hope i find some hope.
And those days are almost always like 'some days' . i want to move on. Anything anyone says is like a falsetto, only less musical. A cacophony. A phoney. Who phoney? Me phoney? Me phoney. i feel like a phoney. Every word i say, i write, i don't feel the words. What i want to say, there are no words. What i feel, too basic for any word.
All false. Every word i read, it feels like an exaggeration, at effort, to look different, to catch the eye. It catches and then loses. No feeling. Every other person is trying to be. A wannabe. Please stop proving to me who you are. I seriously do not care. So do not try to impress me. I don't want to be impressed. I catch your false notes too easily. Do not shroud yourself in mystery. Please don't make the effort. I will not make an effort to disbelieve, Be yourself. I shall believe.
I'm sure there is nothing wrong with people. It is me. I have had my fill. I'm done. Can i become a bairaagi? A hermit? I'm too restless. Too much of myself. too much into myself to fit into that role. Where would i go anyways? No one and nothing will make me happy. Because i'm not happy with myself. This isn't what i am. This isn't what i want.
i live in between to extremes. Hopelessness, utter disillusionment with falsehood, with lies, with manipulation . And then some hope.
Today, i'm searching for some hope again. Hope i find some hope.
1 comment:
there was a small story we read in our school "pandora's box of troubles". Well at the end when she has opened the box full of troubles she finds hope. so its a cycle we get ourselves into situations to find hope. well i hope this time you understand my comment.
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