When its one in the morning and you cry for something as silly as not getting your daily fix of chocolates, you know that there is something terribly wrong with you. You wonder when things got so complex that you can’t really pin-point what’s bothering you. When did you get so fucked up? Or better still, how not to be fucked-up? How do you be happy like the people around you, people with their juicy snippets of gossip or their witty (or so they think) attempts at small talk, how do they do it?
The world seems different when you’re in your twenties; you see the world as it is; what’s real and what’s not suddenly dawns on you. Your dreams seem unrealistic; you abandon hope; and stop believing and you are stripped of all romantic notions that kept you going, not so long ago.
The rose-tinted glasses blow up in your face and a shard of it gets into your eye; its acts as an anti-body to all thoughts romantic; all hope; all faith. Remember the Snow Queen? At least the boy had someone who saved him; all he had to do was - feel and cry. That released the glass from the prison of his eye. That’s a fairy tale, in reality, no amount of crying gets that metaphoric glass out; nor does any alcohol or anything stronger if you like.
Maybe, the glass that seems so alien was always a part of us.
5 comments:
There is no such thing as real happiness. There is only the momentary happiness that comes with small joys, like a good book, a good idea, a good story, or an interesting conversation (or maybe even that chocolate you talk about). I guess life as a whole, does suck. I have spent most of my life promoting the happiness in little things and trying to convince myself that the sort of quiet desperation that blindsides me is inconsequential when compared to the momentary happinesses I create for myself. I am not sure if thats true, but I am too busy creating these alternate joys to notice...
I have run out things that make me happy.. maybe being sad makes me happy... now am just worried about staying sane and not completely losing control...
As someone uninitiated into the world of scholarly people and a writer of occasional fragmented and solitary notes I am not adequately blessed to comment on other works but I believe this lady , with her delightful metaphors and quaint prose will continue to entertain humble readers like me for years to come.
the pursuit of happiness, cliched as it may sound, is not about the destination, but about the journey. experience has taught me, that the wait for that awesome new tennis racquet, or that kickass new gaming console, is always more fun than when you are holding said item in your hand and wondering, 'hmmm..now wat?'. maybe thats how its meant to be, and i'd rather have it this way.
p.s. please forgive my unwise jab at philosophy. :P
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