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Sunday, 10 March 2019

This world is sick


I think this world is sick.

Everyone is swiping away, instead of talking to one another.

It's all about the Ones and Zeros, and it's not cool to talk about our feelings anymore. 

Love thy neighbour as thyself, as long as it's on thy terms. 

We work our asses off so that our children can work their asses off; so that their children can work their asses off.

You can't talk too much - you're loud; you can't talk too little - you're "introverted". Just the right amount will do.

We are obsessed with that one thing that we don't have and forget to smile over the million other things that the world has to offer.

Life is too short to contemplate about its meaning.

I think this world is sick.

Or maybe, I'm the one that is sick.

Tuesday, 1 January 2019

Done with living a counterfeit life


1 January 2019, 1.30p.m.

Here I am, sitting at the corner of my bed, feeling slightly dazed, with the residual effect of last night's jäger, Corona, and I don't remember what.

The past year, or the past few months (to put it more accurately) have radically and irrevocably changed my life. And this, I have barely told anyone - though those who see me almost every day may have started to notice; to notice the c r a c k s in my beautifully curated life.

I am an idealist. Throughout my entire life, the decisions I've made, the words I've said, and the things I've invested in have always been the cautious strokes of a delicate portrait that I've been painting (of course with occasional slip ups). My family, my religion, my relationship, my friendships, my education, my career... And this includes the subconscious choice to keep most people at a distance so that they do not see through the cracks.

But coming back home from four years of studies in the UK, to a reality that is antipodal to my four years of bliss, has made it almost impossible to plaster the cracks from the outside. Not with the overwhelming expectations to be the same person that I was before I left the country, and the never-ending emotional and physical demands. My loved ones may find it shocking that I have become a very different person in a matter of months but I don't think that I have; from my point of view, I am finally coming to terms who I really am - and it is not that person that I've always deceived myself (and others) to be. It is not that patient yes (wo)man that I've always tried to be to the people that I love. It is not that saintly church girl that I've always been, growing up. It is not that good listener that I've always promised to be. I am not any of those.

I think that it takes courage to admit that you are a messed up piece of garbage. And of course, it takes greater courage to fight against the grain and be the best version of yourself in spite of that. So here I am today, on the first day of 2019, first declaring that I am so damn tired of living like everything is perfect. I am done with living this counterfeit life. Truth is, I am struggling to get by every day, stifled by expectations and compromising on my own happiness to put on a facade that I've got everything under control.

This will.. No, this is already changing. 2019 will be a year that I will be true to myself. I will bare my struggles to the world. I will say no to things that I frankly just don't want to do. I will not give any explanation to those that I am not accountable to. I will not try to pretend to be any kinder or saintlier than I actually am. Of course, I still strive to be the best version of myself as I always have; but this time round, it is on my own terms.

In the past few months, as I gradually came to terms with this reality, I have learned to be happy in spite of the pile of shit that I step on every day, and to embrace this broken, messed up, happy piece of garbage that is me.

And it. is. so. liberating. 💩
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