The transition from perfect to plump was really hard. I had no idea back then what my body was growing into. I still continued consuming a hell lot of poison pouring fats and carbohydrates. As they say addiction to anything is worst, to me food did well. Ah wait! Did I mention food? I was and never this XL foodie types but I do eat junk. Junk more than my body needs it. I was more like this aged mulberry leaf trying to fit in everywhere. (This leaf isn’t mulberry I suppose.)
I’ve often seen people growing fabulous instigating their flaws and wonder how life could be all blues for them. They say life gives you enough fair chances and it actually did to me. Little did I knew back then that appearances matters most of the times. The world in a matter of minutes could turn into a court of judgemental people typecasting you all of a sudden with inexplicable reasons, and the sad part is we’re still on hopes that they wouldn’t. I believe that life gives ‘a happiness a time’ rather than pampering you with dozens like them.
At times like this, when I feel so unsatisfied with life quoting reasons that unexcite me and manages to break me down, I prefer living on books. I prefer eloping in them than being taken away by such overwhelming thoughts that takes me nowhere but deep down to sad thoughts and memories. There’s a way in it to bounce back to the normal part of you. I feel so upside down that the pain that goes deep in my heart could only be related to a visual world of books that shares the same pain as me, though the sources to such pain varies.
I’m in a fight with me versus me that makes me look weaker than I’m. I’ve lost all the good reasons to stick to people and talk about anything. I’m rather dwindling between things that could help me escape from the present state.
I feel unsafe, unsecured by people around me cause I actually don’t know when are they going to judge me for or for what reasons, I couldn’t predict how they’re going to make a fool out of me or when am I over my next talk buzz hitting me around like an unexpected train in pathetic rainy days. I feel insecure about everything that makes me happy or sad. And this why I am so not present in the present. I either live the past or most of the time keep wondering about the future.
Moreover, it’s too hard for me to emote me down anywhere, I’m never honest with my feelings with people. I say I’m okay even when I’m not or I do not speak to people at the most happiest hours where I need to have a tight hug emoting my happiness. I rather end up talking wryly that convinces them well that I’m going through a mental trauma, which I’m not.
This is all cause I’m insecure about everything. Everything that makes me remorse in anguish and pain. I feel sad sometimes, often these days, finding no reason to afford such mood.
I hope you’re not. Even if you’re, please do talk to people or emote it to them unlike me cause it’s sad to live like this.
Yours in anguish, thynotebook