Incidents, Medicine: Year 4

What’s your Room No. ?

row of windows

Why is it that moving crowds make me feel so horribly crippled and so devastatingly stranded? Stay there for a minute or two and see them all moving on, while you are waiting for that one thing. Standing, invisible and unseen amongst everyone you know. Low self-esteem? Nah, sometimes it’s just a simple observation

So I do what I went there for, inside the small room as my name is called and mumble my room number. It’s the Allotment Day. We get new rooms as the final year of our college leaves and we have a crack at better rooms. I mumble the same number I did last year. A room full of sunshine, whenever sun comes . A room alight with the moon, whenever moon returns (la di da). A room so perfect in its imperfections that the very notion of changing it made me close my eyes and send out a little prayer, if you’re up there, Oh God, of all the things I have lost, don’t take this away from me.

As I came out, I glanced around, bade a friend or two farewell and climbed up those stairs again. I got what I wanted, then why does my heart sting so much? This happens every year this day. Friends fight, people turn away, girls jump each others throat, blah blah blah..there is so much hostility in the air that I barely recognize anything and anyone. And why do I feel sad at the fact that my ‘friend’ moved away. This happens every year ! Why does it have to sting every time? God ! I want to look myself in the mirror and scream.. GROW UP ALREADY

Haha, well, yea, feelings come and feelings go. Mine left a few seconds ago. We waste our life chasing the wrong people and while I say this I know I am still barking up the wrong tree. And it is also funny when I say that because I have never really chased anyone. One or two people maybe. I guess we have blown up images of ourselves in our head. Why ask people to change a part of themselves for a part of you? Why not see them as they are, not how they affect you? It takes a bigger man to accept that. And that bigger man I try and fail to be, every single day

I have hated clichés. And my hatred for them grows by the minute. I do not believe in all those morals and rituals our brain washed society preaches and has been doing to death..but it gets so hard sometimes, to separate yourself from it. I hate when hypocrisy stirs in me as I keep my mouth shut. Sometimes I wanna blurt it all out but by the time words get to my mouth..I realize…I just don’t care. Or cowardice gets the best of me. Or simple disgust does.

I don’t wanna become that person. I don’t wanna be a sociopath, I don’t wanna live with so much hostility inside that the insides turn black while the extremities go numb. I have been numb. It was horrible. Who wants to be trod upon and be hurt? No one. But I’d rather be hurt than be a corpse who sees nothing, feels nothing and leaves a stench everywhere.

La di da

la di da

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