People live. People die. People mourn. People lie. People are make up artists. They pretend and they say they don’t. They want to prove something all the time and yet they deny. People say nothing can affect them while their puppet master sitting-over-their-virtual-heads grins at that most absurd statement. People look up to someone, people look down at someone. People like and dislike. People pray, people don’t pray. People live and people die.
What am I? I am just 20. That’s a decent explanation I believe. Whenever I do something wrong, I console people around me saying “Its ok. I am just 20.” Yes. I console them because sometimes I wonder they if feel more bad for my “mistakes” than I do. And when they do, the best I can do is make an I am upset but I won’t show it on my face expression or give a lost sad smile saying Am ok. People are so weird. And those who are not – they must be animal activists.
I was having this thought the other day. No one is perfect, sure. But sometimes we do think some people are. We like them even for their faulty demeanour secretly wishing we had that too. At such points, I hope you are not me, but I wonder, wouldn’t it be great if I was like that too. I need some change I believe and then everything will be different, I will be different. And I say I am proud of myself.
I tried meditating too. I tried to close my eyes and “feel myself”. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Are you thinking of something else there? Pervert. So, yea – I kept breathing trying to feel the calm hoping it would work. I would feel happier, not that am depressed. I smiled to myself, I am feeling better, I thought. But, oh shit. I was thinking about the first day I met him. No no. Start again. I told myself. Think about the nature, the “happy” flowers, the earth and the moon. I thought. Nothing.
I came back to my room and waited for sometime until I admitted being a moron. And see, how easily I can do that? I am not good at being proud of myself. Am not. So, I should just stop trying maybe, I thought.
The point is – it is very easy to influence me. Anything that makes sense and I am on that side. No – I am not a stubborn first-come-first service type opinion-maker. My view points vary if they have to and am never reluctant to change them. Some things don’t though. You can’t make me dislike homos. You can’t make me like bad actors no matter how “cute” they are. You can’t ask me to enjoy parties and “socializing”. You can’t make me happy when am not. That last one? That’s not true.
If you tell me, Be Happy! If not happy, then why live? And I would agree with you. And I would try to be happy. Smiling, all the time. People who I have known and died young, I have always noticed one thing about them – they were always happy. Maybe I am not supposed to die sooner. Suits me all right. God! I am so mean!
I am just tired. Tired of thinking that there is a certain kind of happiness that needs to be there even in the pain. Its very simple. For example, I am bored. And when I am bored I want something to entertain me. I am not going to smile and think how wonderful my life is. And if I do that – then probably after the moment of “happiness” I would go into a severe depression admitting how big a moron I am.
I am myself. Happy or not. Proud or not. I am living. Its not enough, but then what is?