IMPERCEPTIVE, Hit me
SLUGGISH, Push me
CALLOUS, Hate me
UNUTTERED, hear me
CHAINED, free me
DESPISED, love me
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
MENTAL RECOVERY
Friends!! fans!! followers!!
How much does it take to become a freedom writer ??..,whatever i write has a colossal part that reflects my life, For believe me i know every feeling born, made and faked on this earth. The reason why i don’t blame my past ,is what i’m is all because of what i have been through.. . and when i say “ I” then its just me who takes all the credit of being alive till date.
i know how it feels to be in rags , how an empty stomach roars for food, how it feels to be bullied ,neglected, rejected, unprotected, when you know your parents are wrong and you sincerely don’t want to follow them , how it feels to jump off of a cliff, i even know how the heart pounds in case of drug over doses.. I know how to fake a laugh for a joke but later cry my eyes out in the ladies room. I know how it feels to be a slow head, stumbling upon everything, ...laughed at .
if You call this mental illness... then may be ..haven’t i been through enough of trauma?? I mean Who doesn’t have a bad childhood , i bet everyone at some point of their life must have felt the unfair pricks..,not all should be registered in a mental asylum .
i was so much used to the feelings, but i knew this is not what i was born for ... the purpose of my life... a thought well enough to escape somewhere far away. . so did i ..
I call that a second chance rather a second life in one birth to live for. This time i learnt it from complete strangers. i copied the way they walked , and i never stumbled . their smile took my breath away , even though it was a tough time copying their smile as it reflected their heart, but i had my part of success. they adored me soon they became a part of my life. And strangers were no more strange .. then it felt -how it feels like to have friends and the one who loved you the most irrespective of your flaws .thats when i realised the worth having a friend.A best friend . I read books , like say millions of books ,explored whole of the world .. somebody just rightly said that books are a man’s best friend.. they took me to the zulu tribes of Africa , i met gregor johann mendel and studied his pea plants traits, i was murdered , i was sad ,i was happy, i cried,i laughed..trust me!! You can live a lifetimeby just reading books..
Times roll on and soon the feeling of missing those strangers turned friends , depressed me everyday. But unlike me,They were happy everywhere .
I know how you float after a hangover , i know how it feels like to be stonned and the world’s lackadaisical activities, never bothers you.. . how it feels to loose free your hair and shake it to the highest volume . How it feels when the weed makes you feel your nervous system. And how to blahber and abuse your past so that its flushed out of you like sh*t. yes i learnt how to become that B*TCH..
Yet when i laugh at one such joke , i realise it just the same way i was laughed at . suddenly the past rebellious tears flood out of my eyes.
If you still call this mental illness , i would rather call it mental recovery...
How much does it take to become a freedom writer ??..,whatever i write has a colossal part that reflects my life, For believe me i know every feeling born, made and faked on this earth. The reason why i don’t blame my past ,is what i’m is all because of what i have been through.. . and when i say “ I” then its just me who takes all the credit of being alive till date.
i know how it feels to be in rags , how an empty stomach roars for food, how it feels to be bullied ,neglected, rejected, unprotected, when you know your parents are wrong and you sincerely don’t want to follow them , how it feels to jump off of a cliff, i even know how the heart pounds in case of drug over doses.. I know how to fake a laugh for a joke but later cry my eyes out in the ladies room. I know how it feels to be a slow head, stumbling upon everything, ...laughed at .
if You call this mental illness... then may be ..haven’t i been through enough of trauma?? I mean Who doesn’t have a bad childhood , i bet everyone at some point of their life must have felt the unfair pricks..,not all should be registered in a mental asylum .
i was so much used to the feelings, but i knew this is not what i was born for ... the purpose of my life... a thought well enough to escape somewhere far away. . so did i ..
I call that a second chance rather a second life in one birth to live for. This time i learnt it from complete strangers. i copied the way they walked , and i never stumbled . their smile took my breath away , even though it was a tough time copying their smile as it reflected their heart, but i had my part of success. they adored me soon they became a part of my life. And strangers were no more strange .. then it felt -how it feels like to have friends and the one who loved you the most irrespective of your flaws .thats when i realised the worth having a friend.A best friend . I read books , like say millions of books ,explored whole of the world .. somebody just rightly said that books are a man’s best friend.. they took me to the zulu tribes of Africa , i met gregor johann mendel and studied his pea plants traits, i was murdered , i was sad ,i was happy, i cried,i laughed..trust me!! You can live a lifetimeby just reading books..
Times roll on and soon the feeling of missing those strangers turned friends , depressed me everyday. But unlike me,They were happy everywhere .
I know how you float after a hangover , i know how it feels like to be stonned and the world’s lackadaisical activities, never bothers you.. . how it feels to loose free your hair and shake it to the highest volume . How it feels when the weed makes you feel your nervous system. And how to blahber and abuse your past so that its flushed out of you like sh*t. yes i learnt how to become that B*TCH..
Yet when i laugh at one such joke , i realise it just the same way i was laughed at . suddenly the past rebellious tears flood out of my eyes.
If you still call this mental illness , i would rather call it mental recovery...
Thursday, June 24, 2010
OBJECTIVE REALITY ??
She was not acting as a silly neurotic woman who believes in every bit of superstition. But even if she thought the whole situation in a scientific way yet she could not solve the mysterious meaning . why was her hair moving in a rhythmic to and fro manner when there was no slightest motion of wind,why it felt like someone stared at her from some corner of the room , a force that jammed her voice so that she could not shout for help. But why will she ask for help ,does not the house belong to her. Vidhya didn’t want to entertain these feelings. She went to her bed room, but still she could feel the invisible presence of something supernatural .
She tried to get some sleep. Her heart skipped a bit, when she heard a strange voice “vidhyaaa”. The uneasiness grew no bound , the terror persisted .she took her pillow ,put it over her head and pressed the pillow hard over her ears , still she could not stop hearing that voice which called out her name again and again. What was more unbearable , the invisible pulled the pillow and dragged her off her bed . Now she could feel its physical presence too. But she dare not open her eyes. She was slapped ,once ..twice..thrice. when the pain outshone her fear ,she opened her eyes ,cried to her horror misery. And more because of the painful slaps her flatmate planted on her cheeks.
“vidhyaa vidhyaa , wake up – you are getting late for work” . her flatmate shouted .she looked at the clock that striked 9.
Not a big deal ,she is scared in a daily routine manner. Let it be some ghost ,nightmare or her boss..all the same . what is reality anyway??
RUN VIDHYA RUN!!
She tried to get some sleep. Her heart skipped a bit, when she heard a strange voice “vidhyaaa”. The uneasiness grew no bound , the terror persisted .she took her pillow ,put it over her head and pressed the pillow hard over her ears , still she could not stop hearing that voice which called out her name again and again. What was more unbearable , the invisible pulled the pillow and dragged her off her bed . Now she could feel its physical presence too. But she dare not open her eyes. She was slapped ,once ..twice..thrice. when the pain outshone her fear ,she opened her eyes ,cried to her horror misery. And more because of the painful slaps her flatmate planted on her cheeks.
“vidhyaa vidhyaa , wake up – you are getting late for work” . her flatmate shouted .she looked at the clock that striked 9.
Not a big deal ,she is scared in a daily routine manner. Let it be some ghost ,nightmare or her boss..all the same . what is reality anyway??
RUN VIDHYA RUN!!
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