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.

hands-with-plant save

In Vain

anger girl what the hell

I wish I could walk up to a few people, look them straight in the eye and slowly say these words:

I could care less about your existence.

Your existence means nothing to me

But why on earth would I do such a mean thing?

Because they move around, building up a persona for the sake of me and everyone around them. Liking, disliking, talking and walking for the benefit and approval of those present in the vicinity. I would hate to see what true isolation would do to them…I imagine it would punch holes into their thickly garnished exterior and the vacuum inside would annihilate them as the reality of the situation would suck everything they borrowed. But still, that would be the truest they’d ever feel and the honest they’d ever act.

Why do you bother? Why do you bother hide from me, and lie to me, and talk for me when I do not care? Why do you take a step trying to affect me when in reality nothing you do or shall ever do will ever have any kind of an impact on me? Why do you soil yourself, drench yourself in filth and then make up philosophies to justify some code of morality you uphold for the sake of Godknowswho and Heavenknowswhat?  I am not jealous at your worthless accomplishments, I am not impressed by the phony attire you dab on to appear ‘different’, I am not hurt at your ‘rational’ decisions and remarks, I am not dominated by your demeanor. I pity you. I judge you. And if I could, I would avoid the shadow of your shadow…for what I do, is fear that the frustration I feel at your lack of originality, your utter obliviousness of this fact, that epitome of mediocrity that possesses every pore of your body… might one day end up charring me to my core if I get to stay near you any longer.

But then again.

Sweetheart,

I could care less.

“Those who hate most fervently must have once loved deeply; those who want to deny the world must have once embraced what they now set on fire”

How do you tell someone that you hate them? Look them straight in the eye and blurt out that you despise their very existence? How do you say, that their pettiness bores you, that their presence brings you no charm, nothing at all. That it is worse that being numb, worse than being paralyzed..worse than being in a coma itself.

You sleep on it, you pack your bags and go on a trip. You cut all modes of communication. Anything that would change how you feel. You meditate. You learn about spirit and you learn about life, you cleanse your body and soul and just as you return from that godforsaken journey..a blow smashes into your gut and makes you double. Nothing has changed. You feel exactly the same, those faces provoke the same exact feelings, those exact feelings of disgust, anger and loathing. Them you loved for so long have a such a distorted image now, you don’t see them anymore.  A despicable numbness spreads all over your body and you run out, gasping for air

 

What do you do, ey? What do you do now?

 

(Title: Quote by Kurt Tucholsky )

Some things are just not good for you, but are great for others

Anti social Fb crap

Social networks are great. Movie Theaters are great. Expensive restaurants are great. Less expensiveones are awesome. Going to them with friends is great. Making lots of friends is great. Talking is great. People and what they do is just..great

But I hate all of this and all of them. I despise it all. It makes the very gut of mine twist and turn and go purple.

We have this page on fb, that says “Humans of —(my college)” and all I see is pictures and quotes of bunch of *famous* people from our college and everyone acting as if they give a shit. I mean they are famous already now we have a page to celebrate them. Now I remember why I left fb. I don’t hate them, per say..but there is a limit to all the crap and pretending and lying we do everyday. Get real for once and get a life (it’s rich, coming from me)

I joined goodreads recently. And I don’t fancy it..much. It’s a social network of sorts and it’s great I agree. But everyone’s talking on it and I dunno, I feel like lost in a traffic with cars honking around me and I am standing amidst the clamour with no idea where to exit. Maybe we don’t like to know if a lot of people out there are better than us and are doing great or are just..there, maybe it’s just me. I value reading a lot. Books are all I had and have. My parents kept me away from people my entire life on strict purpose. My mom has this theory that children who take a lot of interest in affairs of elders end up as dumb, worthless, no-good boneheads.

And she has a lot of evidence to back it up

All my anti-social behaviour is credited to her and of-course my Dad.

And my sister

And my grandpa

And Thomas Hardy

It’s a lot of things that make us who we are. The childhood, the upbringing, the mommy daddy issues, our very nature, the experiences, the lack of experiences. We are not all bad. No matter how much people vex me, they all have wars of their own to fight. I respect that. And I esp respect the people who don’t pretend around me. If they don’t like me they don’t bother and in return I don’t help them out during the exam session

Na. I do…

I don’t blame them if they give me glares or act as if I’m invisible. It’s rude but who cares. I am weird too. I usually stick my tongue out at total strangers and glare at any guy who dares to step in one mile radius

Crazy is the new normal, ey =)

Im-not-Anti-Social

 

I been a long time leaving but I’m going to be a long time gone

Billy’s leaving today (don’t know where he’s going).
Holds his head in disgrace (he can’t escape the truth).
He knows the price that he’s paid.
He admits that it’s too late to admit that he’s afraid.

Alright. It’s 6:30 am here. And I am all packed. There are all kinds of feelings and thoughts mingling with the sleep that’s heavily laid on my eyes. Arms hurt. Stomach’s in discomfort. It’s there. Life as I know it

Tomorrow comes. Sorrow becomes his soul mate.
The damage is done. The prodigal son is too late.
Old doors are closed but he’s always open,
To relive time in his mind.
Oh Billy…

It is silly how I can face anything if I block my emotions, overcome anything my giving myself justifications. The mind, oh later questions, the heart, it does accelerate, but see me here now. In this same room with the same maroon chair and chocolate-brown furniture. See me here in this room oddly vacant. See my mom silent. See me now. Making jokes to make her smile. I haven’t looked in the mirror, and I know you don’t see me.

Billy’s leaving today (don’t know where he’s going).
He’s got lines on his face (they tell the story of his pain).
He accepts it’s his fate.
He admits it took too long to admit that he was wrong.

Was it too hard to love me? Or equally too easy to hate me? Look, I am leaving now, away you see. I will take  no more time nor space in my mind to think about you all. Look, was I too bad to be abused? too wretched to be smashed any moment perceived? Still. I forgot to cover my tracks, and the monsters follow me in every world I take up, every star that shines on me, tainting every innocent smile of mine, and increasing every pain that finds its way

Tomorrow comes. Sorrow becomes his soul mate.
The damage is done. The prodigal son is too late.
Old doors are closed but he’s always open,
To relive time in his mind.
Oh Billy.

I leave all these questions here, trying just as I left them here ages ago. It’s such a cold weather. There is fog out there, I hear. One of the smells I love. I am breaking away again. Because its easy now. My fingers are freezing, and I am scared deep down some place where I cannot figure myself out, never have;soon might.

Once he was a lover sleeping with another.
Now he’s just known as a cheat.
And he wish he’d had a mirror; looked a little clearer.
Seen into the eyes of the weak.

There is no use, aye. No use of saying anything. Because I have loved, I have lived, I have hated, I hate, and if people won’t stop hurting.. I won’t stop hating, I don’t care if it makes me a hypocrite, I am past the stages of resonated and so painful silence. My life hasn’t ended on such few suckers as yet btw. If a dog won’t stop barking.. aye I won’t stop roaring.. I have used this analogy the second time yet I am unaware of any scarp of meaning to it. Balderdash.

Tomorrow comes. Sorrow becomes his soul mate.
The damage is done. The prodigal son is too late.
Old doors are closed but he’s always open,
To relive time in his mind.
Oh Billy.

Bye guys! I leave at 8 o’clock here. I packed such few stuff (?!) and I yet have my room to confirm. I’ll miss WP, might be back in a week due to a few holidays, it was an honour meeting you all and there is respect in my heart that nothing can tamper, pray fer me! SO LONG

Haibar

P.s. Happy new year to all Muslims!

(Title: Quote by Willie Nelson)

(Song: Oh, Billy by James Blunt)