Im writing today because im hurt. Im writing because everyone else has their own shit to deal with. And im writing because it's the only thing which I can openly claim my love for. Without hiding it beneath dirty sheets on a rented bed of a dinghy room.
My ability to write as 'film maker' has been questioned by friends who are not even humans anymore. Who are just too hurt to empathize with the entire situation right now.
Writing is the only thing which reciprocates my love back after being finished.
That feeling when you miss on a hug not being reciprocated back right before you have to take a train to leave the city you love? That feeling when after making love to someone else, you yourselves are feeling unsatisfied and unloved and are just craving for a peck on the head?
Writing all this just needs to be written down. All it asks is to be written down. It does not ask you to wax or go down on it or ask you to keep your anger in control. It does not ask you or insults you for sharing it with others. Even when the intention was right and out of concern. Even when the intention was NOT A FUCKING A JOKE. Even when the intention was not a piece of fucking gossip.
It does not blame you for taking it to the hospital that day with you and later meeting with an accident all your life.
It does not paint you in a bad light.
It does not manipulate you.
Or asks you to fuck off. Or tells you that you had no right to this or that.
Words are not wind.
Don't give me that shit. Don't give me that shit when we were on top of that hill top and the view was worth all the pain we all went through in life.
Words are not wind. And if you think words are like wind, then you are highly mistaken in underestimating the Power of wind. The air the breeze the intensity it carries which is making you survive and making me survive. That's the power of words. It's oxygen.
I lost that day. I royally lost that day. My worst 24 hours of life. Where I fucked it all up. After fucking it all up even more. I could not make the only person understand me who could really understand me, Once.
I lost. And some losers won. I lost that day as I saw him hugging her and sleeping in the train. And I lost when the hug was not reciprocated back when I already gave myself to it. I lost when I was asked to leave. And I lost when I was fucked left right and center by her. By her words. By her lack of judgement. By her sense of vulnerability which I never took an advantage of.
I still respect the fact when she told me that the only person she could share her art and her personal self was only with me. I never told that to anyone. I never took that as a joke.
I only shared with what I went through. And what was told to me not by her, but by him.
What he told me and not her. And thats why the hug was never reciprocated. And thats why I was asked to work on myself as If you have to be a fucking PRODUCT in order to have some company and physical proximity with a person you like.
Yes I fucked it up. Yes I broke his trust. But I never lied. I hid things but I eventually confessed. Just like Her.
I became so attached with someone else's life that I thought It's mine. The ability to empathize is not always great. Especially when the other person can't. And yes I did a couple of unnecessary things too. I broke things so badly and thought I had the courage to mend them again. But I was not lucky. Like always, I lagged behind due to factors such as time space and distance.
And now you think I pretended to be a friend. You think Im giving you shit.
I know you regret even knowing me. And you have all the right to. As I said, you are too hurt to empathize with the whole situation. And no I did not brainwash anyone. I can't do that. If I could I would have not been in this situation in the first place.
Just because I fucked it up, it's not correct to call me a liar. I deserve your anger and tears and hatred and the desire to kill me for crimes I did not even commit. I deserve your "fuck you's" and "who the hell are you" but not the fact that Im a liar. And my reasons are not excuses. My reasons are my fucking reasons.
It's true. While talking we forget to quote many things and miss out on many things. I couldn't agree more with that.
But as I have always been able to zoom out of situations and look at them unlike many people, I can see myself winning. Maybe it's an illusion to live by. Maybe it's another random trip which the mind takes when it is under so much pressure and pain or maybe not. Cause I now usually vent my poison out where I only get love in return. But I can only see myself winning this. I was not doing any one a favor by talking to you. I owed you the right to be angry at me and yell at me. Something I was denied by your friends who now you love dearly. Im not even going there. I can't control anyone. But only I could take that. No one else. Not even you.
The only thing I could not stand was you attacking my ability to write.
Or anyone else for that matter.
True lovers are never ashamed of themselves. They are just naked because they have nothing to hide.
Now this is the last time Im really ranting about all this. There is a lot to do. There are other situations to come out of.
People have left and people will leave.
Words are wind and that is all ever going to stay.
|And I thank Nitesh Mohanty for this beautiful fb post. It has brought me to be at peace with a lot of things including myself.|