Bits and Pieces..

Solitude and Contradictions go hand in hand.

It's funny how we feel sad when we're alone and yet run away from crowds.It's funny how we crib when there is no-one to console us , yet when we cry we want to be left to ourselves. It's funny just how many times we think of so much to say and when we meet the person it just melts away with pain or anguish as though we never did have a thought.

The reasons..uncertain..undiscovered.

Maybe it's because we're scared they'll tell us to cheer up and we just want to mourn, simply indulge in sorrow and feel good about it.Maybe it's because they'll tell us that it happens to them too and we want to keep something exclusive to ourselves. Maybe because we're too vain of our tears. Or maybe, just ,maybe we don't ourselves know why we cry, and avoid getting to know so, because then we will need to have a reason for it the next time round.
Are we scared of being alone or are we scared that someone can stop loving us? Its a constant feud of emotions versus pride, expectations versus hope and disappointments versus dissatisfactions. Strangely, when we do something for others we conceal it to avoid being vulnerable, and yet feel the need for appreciation. Constant self thought is selfishness and constant help and concern is a weakness.

What is that we want then?

Happiness? Love? Money? Typical answers.The actual fact is that we all look for security, Security that will make us feel wanted, with or without love. Security that will make us wake up in the mornings with a smile, with or without happiness.Security that will promote the sense of being burdened with riches, with or without the money. We need unconditional security rather than unconditional love. The warmth of being safe itself provides us with the illusion of love, a mistake we often make, aware or unaware. The only person, sad to say, one really loves is themselves, and when we start to feel insecure about ourselves is when we go looking for "love" in others.

Nobody has ever defined life and nobody can do so. We make the meanings ourselves based on how we would like it defined. How it suits our purpose. We go round in circles, asking questions, arriving at solutions which we consider inadequate in a while, and hence, getting back at the questions again! It's not the question which is difficult most of the time, it is the truth of the answer which frightens us. Frightens us enough to disregard it.

Why do we ask questions then? Not for answers but for discoveries, discoveries about ourselves.

This not a sermon, not a great work of literature to be framed and gilded, not even a proper piece of writing. It's bits and pieces of me, of what I am and have been. What i observe, ignore and feel everyday of my life. What I have been through and what i wish to keep with me. I have made mistakes, learnt from a few but not all and repeated them again n again till the mistakes became me. That is not a loss or a failure, it has been a growing experience, an experience I can't forget because I choose not to. Choices? I choose to cry, I choose to get hurt and feel hurt, I choose to laugh, I choose to love, I choose to care, I choose to live, I choose to be myself. Why? Because they are simply the parts of a jigsaw puzzle which when put together, spell ME. That is what I am. Who I am and what I want (or maybe need)? still remains unworded....

-Mist