Existence

Funny thing, to exist. You survive day by day, doing what you must. Just getting by. It's not living, it's...well, it is what it is. Call it what you will. But, I guess the most bitter pill to swallow is the complete and utter lack of choice, while being fed an illusion to the contrary.

In a way, that's why the term "live your life" becomes so ironic. Because, you aren't really living, for the word implies that you have control of the whole. But if one is honest with oneself, you realise that in the grand scheme of things, you really have no control. Because all we can do is deal with what life throws at us. Which is why I guess I can appreciate why so many people prefer to believe in God, or Allah, or some other presumably definable entity. Because there is some comfort to be had in the belief that the unseen force that governs the universe adheres to a logic which is within man's grasp. It's ironic really, because they are right in their subconscious belief. The logic isn't beyond human understanding. The sad part though, is that the over complication leads more to misunderstanding than it's actual goal. Because, if one can objectively analyze one's experiences, it becomes clear that the logic is much simpler. Balance. While how it's achieved may be beyond us, because the connections are so complex, that is the basic character of the force. For example, it will almost inevitable be those who are strong enough to handle it, who will be put in the worst situations. They are sometimes visible to others, these circumstances; but often, there is no visible sign. On the face of it, their lives seem good. Like everything is fine. No one really knows what goes on. But that is me veering off topic onto personal experience. At the end though, one must realise that whatever happens, will always be explainable in relation to balance. It may not be clear initially, or ever at all for that matter. But if something happens, it is always connected to the tapestry that is reality, maintained by the force that is balance, interconnected by the threads that are attachments. Unfortunately, this knowledge will nerve afford the comfort that can be had by means of a structured religion. But unfortunately, the fickle flower of ignorance once touched, cannot be restored.

Why it's so hard

<p>I think I FINALLY am able to, rationally, articulate why this time, it's different. Why, unlike before, this time I'm actually going to find it almost impossible.</p>
<p>I really didn't believe in this whole concept of “The one". Well, at least I didn't for myself. And somehow, that made things easier, strange as that is. I took a certain amount masochistic satisfaction in being the ever the suffering, forever the alone. Because, I could scoff glibly at the chances of meeting that one person, who would be above everyone else, for me. Because even the last time, while I didn't think it was likely, there was always a possibility of something better. Somehow, you could accept something less, since you didn't know what to compare it to. You can take reality, knowing that the dream is just that; a dream; fiction; unreal.

But now, it's become real. It's no longer just a slim chance that is almost certainly going to never be realised. So, now I have to convince myself to accept something less, AFTER seeing what it COULD have been. What, dare I say it, SHOULD have been. And that, makes all the difference. That, is what makes it so unbelievably hard. That, is why, life lost what little solace it had. I know I'll accept something less eventually. I have to. But...sigh. words fail me. And I guess that's all there's left to say.

“Two months of madness" by- Forever-the-spoon

I think I understand now.. I think I've finally, completely understood my purpose..why I'm here.. And, lonely as it may be, I guess at least it's something I can work with..perhaps. Only time will tell I guess..

Looking back at my life, I've realised that, it's always been about helping others.. Caring about them. Fixing whatever I can, however incremental and often seemingly insignificant it may seem. Life works out, that way. I feel alright, and less useless, and can believe I belong..almost.

However, as with every good story, there is always the pinch of salt; the twist in the plot; the catch- there's always a catch. In this story, the catch is that, I'm not supposed to expect anything. That's when everything starts going wrong. And unfortunately, as I now see, it's not only for ME that things can go wrong. At least till now, it was a matter of me suffering the consequences, and eventually picking up the pieces, and dragging on. But obviously, since I was getting too comfortable with that routine, the universe decides “Hmmmm, he's forgetting his place.. Let's remind him in the most brutal way possible".

So here I am..again. Forced to acclimatize myself to a new private Hell. And, sadly, I almost couldn't bring myself to write this, because the only person who is likely to see this will go through even more pain because of it. But, sigh...I have no other option. I say this, because I've realised something else.

So far, my coping mechanism has been to let it all out. Vent. To the few people I'd trust. And it helps. At least, it used to. But this time, I realise that it's completely useless. Their intentions are all good, so not that I blame them.....But all they seem to see, is what it seems on the outside...the “reality", as it were; the hard truth. But here's the thing...so do I. And I'm doing what I have to. And I know what I have to do. So telling me, for example, that I need to “move on" isn't going to fucking help now is it? I KNOW that's what I have to DO. The problem is, this time, it's going to be next to fucking impossible. And EVERYONE prefers to tell ME what I feel, and how it's not what I THINK I feel, as if they know better than me. Perfect. Just what I fucking need. To hear everything I already know, repeated to me over and over again, like I'm not getting it.

So I've decided, I'm going to give it a week or two. Then, I'm going to start telling everyone that “I'm fine"; that I realise now that it was “just another" infatuation. Nothing more. They were right. And I'm over it now. If I wasn't so averse to collateral damage, I'd have thrown in a “relationship" for better measure. But knowing my luck, I'd surely end up with someone who refuses to leave, when that's all I want: for them to leave.

So thus ends (or will end, soon enough) what I will refer to henceforth as the “Two months of madness". It will/has been, in a way, but not in the way that people will be made to understand it. And now, back to my never ending job; that of being forever the spoon.

Things I'll never get to say to you

I think this is the only place where I can actually say this, where it's least likely to be seen by anybody but you... And, if I decide not to tell you, I hope you see this someday...

I'd resigned myself to unhappiness, and loneliness... I'd given up on my fickle dream of finding that one person for me.. Because, I'm pretty sure only that person will ever stay. Only that person will understand. Only that person, would want to make me live again. And then you came along. You walked effortlessly through all the barriers I'd built to keep everyone at a distance. It was as if they didn't exist, for you. And suddenly, I couldn't shake the dream again... I found myself completely carried away. I found you...

I don't know how to explain it, but NEVER have I been so hopelessly unable to let go. Never have I felt so irreversibly attached to someone before. It doesn't sound real, even to me, as I say it. And logically I keep questioning what I feel. But, the feeling won't change. However hard I try. And just to try itself is next to impossible. I've never been afraid of losing someone. I accept these things, as part and parcel of this existence. But this time, I'm absolutely terrified... Sigh.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I love you..to the point that the words aren't enough. To the point that...I can't even bare to think of how and what I'm going to do when I have to let you go, far too soon. This is why I say "Hell" is existence. Because it can get to this.

I was waiting for the day this would end, but now I'm really tired of even waiting. I just wish I was weaker, so that I couldn't cope and would just end it myself. But sadly, I'm not. Clearly, I have bad karma to pay. In this silent Hell. Where no one will really ever understand.

I miss you.

Hiding in plain sight...

Once upon a time,  there was a boy who existed on an almost insignificantly small dot of land in the middle of the exotic region of the ocean.. From the moment the medical practitioners made the mistake of realizing that he was more than just a cyst in the womb, it should have been evident that there was something amiss. This became more and more evident as this boy grew up. He developed too fast, knew too much. Didn't react like he should, even though he was also unrealistically sensitive. He started out with hope, that he wasn't a mistake- that he was only as different as someone else who existed. The innocence of childhood made the illusion easier to accept, for with it came the illusion that people were in the habit of being as good as they had the potential to be. However, as time wore on, he started to realise that this may not be the case. The nagging feeling of never fitting in wherever he was, eventually became painfully obvious...to him. He started to realise that, in a world which had started to accept deviance, he had transcended the limits of even this new found social culture of acceptance.

The problem with this story, is not that he was different. Or at least, that wasn't the main problem. The biggest problem perhaps, was the fact that for all his abnormality, he was able to pass off as no more different than anyone else. Sure, people might realise he was perhaps above-average intelligent. Maybe he seemed more kind and obliging that most. Perhaps there was something about his appearance that people would find appealing. But no one really *knew* how different he was. There were the occasional entrances into his life who made him believe that, perhaps, there were others like him. Be it because these people WERE actually more different than most, or due to the simple reason that he wished to believe so badly, he DID believe...for a while. However, it soon became obvious that for all their deviance, no one really came close to being as different as him. And unfortunately, part of his "uniqueness" was his natural ability to blend in, wherever he went. It was not so much conscious as instinctive, this chameleon-esque nature of his. So, he spent his time..a mistake, forced  to live a life he did not want, yet unable to break free because the only freedom to be found was that which was at the end.

Thus continues the story of the boy...if boy indeed he be. "Blessed" with the ability to understand all, but cursed to a life of never being truly understood. So there he was- a seemingly normal, well adjusted man-hiding in plain sight....