Whatever must be…

Its beyond me that we grow up hearing from people and seeing all around us how we must value ourselves and love ourselves. What is even more inexplicable is how easily we forget that and completely immerse ourselves in finding definitions around people and situations. In a profound conversation with a certain someone from 4 years ago I found the meaning of all relationships, romantic or otherwise.

A:   more random unnecessary information suspended for some time
me:   why does silence need to be uncomfortable?
I mean, silence is a good thing no.
A:   depends on the people you are silent with.
me:   only people who truly know and understand eachother can be comfortably silent around each other
A:   i used to like to listen to you breath on the other end of the phone
me:   I am still breathing, you know
A: i cant hear it

We continue to exist. We continue to exist, independent of people or situations or circumstances. But when we are in the thick of these situations with these people, we refuse to look at the bigger picture. And then one day, even as we continue to breathe, the other person can not hear it anymore. Then we can take charge and try to find our own lost sense of self or find other people to be around and define ourselves for them, according to them…

This is a mindless, mid-night rant…one of the many that have been happening too often these days. Over Skype conversations with lovers and friends, in between the pages of random notes, under blankets and in the head. some nights it feels like they will consume me. some nights it feels like they will help me get away from things.



Begin Again

I think its always a good time to begin again. Sometimes people are a verse gone wild on paper, drifting off and coming around in circles, over and over again. Sometimes, it’s important to punctuate and to begin again. Its important to read the draft that you are. Its important to believe that you are a work in progress and no matter how badly shaped you may seem at this point, there is always time to begin again.

I have been running away from hard hitting reality for as long as i can remember. It started many summers ago when my mother was diagnosed for the first time. I would go away to my friend’s house for days at a stretch and pretend like the dysfunctional life that was waiting for me at my parents’ house was not my life to live. I did manage to shut it out for many years. I would sleep early. Wake up early. Be in the house as little as possible. Make as little conversation as possible. Use books as an excuse to not talk to people. It worked. It worked for as long as it could have and then it stopped working. In hindsight I realise that could have been a good time to hit pause and begin again. But I did not. I ran away, instead. And I think I have been running since. From any sort of discomfort, from pain, from hurt, from people who I might end up getting attached to, from love, from reality and above all from myself. I cant remember when was the last time I was myself. I am not sure if I ever remember who I am anymore.