Letter of Resignation

I cannot help you.

This evening I went out to buy some yogurt. I wore my warmest socks and my coziest sweater and wrapped a nice thick scarf around my head because it was really cold outside. Had a chilly five-minute walk. I don’t have many of these left here since med school finishes soon. I went, met a few friends there. That part was nice since I hadn’t spoken to a soul all day as I was cooped up in my room begging myself to study for the finals. But, I digress.

As I came back, up those stairs and through those corridors, I found myself regretting that I had lost the ability to give a crap. If that is temporary or permanent, I have yet to find out. I cannot find it in me to care about your troubles anymore. I do not have it in me to listen to you sink into a pit of self-indulgence and blurt out a plethora of words I have heard you and so many speak before. I can see them form a cloud of smoke around you, as you get lost in them, talking talking talking… A copy of a copy of a copy. It’s beyond me to bear it any longer.

I didn’t use to be like this, though. I was one of those people who actually feed on other person’s neediness. People who thrive in a co-dependent relationship (if you call that thriving). I was the person who loved hearing the other person talk and loved to give solutions, if asked to, of course. I loved people more for their problems and imperfections than anything else.

But I have lost the ability to connect with you anymore. I do not have the stamina to sit and listen to you be…so common. I do not have the energy to apologize when I fail to meet some mighty and high standards of affection you have in your mind, those cultivated by ill written books and misunderstood classics. I have no place for the guilt you inflict, nor do I have the capability to address the gaping voids you wish someone would fill and the seeping cracks you wish someone would fix. It is impossible for me to go back there. I wish it would pain me more when I tell you: You are on your own. Yes, I might be around as I myself am on this journey like you. I will give you my water if you are thirsty, I will give you my food if you are hungry. But I will not chew it for you. I will slow down if you want to rest yourself. But I will not carry you.

I will not carry you.

Ode to Idiots

This post is full of shameless self praise and big-headedness,with a score of judgement on every living soul I have met. Those who take offense easy,
You’ve been warned.

people people

I am creature of impulse, not of calculation. There was once a time I regretted it, but now I don’t. When I was very young I used to think everyone around me had a better understanding of life, that they knew things I would never understand; because they had wholesome families, they lived in big houses and they drove in cars while I came from a broken home and had to travel for hours in a smelly van to get to my school.That somehow their brains were sharper than mine and their thinking much clearer and open. And by this I placed some sort of an invisible responsibility on them. That they were ‘supposed’ to give a crap about my existence and they were ‘supposed’ to understand what I was going through. There in was the birth of my resentment and deep dissatisfaction.

And school went on, and college went on. I got into med school. Same problem. I would ‘expect’ them to understand. I would ‘expect’ them to care. I would resent them if they didn’t. And most often, they didn’t. (why would they? Duh). And I always thought that it was the same thing, that I just didn’t knew any better. I made mistakes because I was lacking the typical upbringing they had.

Boy, was I wrong.

Because, man, are people dumb, deaf and blind!

They walk around as if they are the only human beings on earth, I s them talking such bullcrap that it made my eyes water with anger. Oh, I had an anger phase too. But then, I started to really look at them, really see what their patterns were and that’s when I saw a whole new kind of…dumb.

I am not an advocate of selflessness and the delusion of altruism. I was, but I no longer am. I think thinking and caring about others is a wonderful deed. It brings me great happiness too. But the idea of sacrifice is way too distorted and overrated to be held that high. I would never want my pleasure to be the cause to someone else’s pain (Ayn Rand would put it differently), but I digress.

So, I saw the very friends of mine making the same mistakes over and over. I saw them running from confrontation, keeping things in their hearts, building resentments, taking the wrong way to deal with a situation that could be dealt with so straightforwardly, lying, hiding, hurting, hating, crying, fighting their many problems, some letting the grief bury them, some putting a brave face all the time, loving those who hurt them, hurting those who had been there for them for an eternity.

They all turned out to be..so normal.

There was nothing special or different about them. They knew nothing better. Their privileges had not given them an understanding of someone else’s lacking (?). They would give the same advice I read in a magazine or watched in a movie. Their problems weren’t that different. They said or did nothing that I hadn’t seen or done before. They were just people, lost in their own worlds, trying to make it out alive. People. Just People. Ordinary. Beautiful. Tragic…people…

They didn’t know any better then, they don’t know any better now. I lost all my resentment the day I understood that. Before, I tried to be good because that was what I was taught. Because that was what I was ‘supposed’ to do.

Now I do it because I know that I know better

Try me.

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