"Into this world we're thrown, like a dog without a bone.."
I often feel I can't fight these abstract elements on my own. I'll end up being too lonely. Too exhausted.
Yes, I'm angry. Situations. Unwanted actions. Rude words. Apathy. Meanness. Jealousy. Stupidity. INDIFFERENCE. And justifications for the same.
Anger, I've learnt makes things easy. Hatred, distrust and disgust in general. For everyone. Fair game. It saves me the element of surprise when people betray, back-stab or ruthlessly murder your faith. Also, gives me a self-defence mechanism against myself developing expectations from anyone. Expectation is a bitch. I used to think expecting as much you can deliver in reciprocation is fair. But FUCK fairness. People who said that this isn't a fair world, weren't all whining.
Anyway, this anger induces a lot of energy within my body. And I feel the need to channel it, direct it somewhere. An set myself free. I run.
That has always been my passion. I do it with a lot of vigour. And then I think of all the things that have been in the past couple of months. My jaws tighten up. Regrets. Concerns. Shit-on-my-face insults. I pull my muscles together as if trying to run away. And the temperature rises. From my forehead to my feet. I find it comforting to push myself into extremities of physical activeness stretching upto the point where breakdown occurs.
Even when my lungs give up, I drag myself for some distance. Mostly thinking of situations where I should've put in some extra effort.
And thinking is an act I cannot avoid. The chain, true to it's continuous nature, moves on from one thought to another.
I have too many things to say. I just don't know how.
Some days it rains. My footsteps set deep into the muddy waters, splashing all around. The sweat lines on my forehead dissolve into the pouring rain. The green of the trees gets sharper and brighter. This makes my head light. This adds to the spirit and the vigour.
Atleast at the end of the day, I am tired. I've exhausted all my energy, satisfied my anger. I can't think anymore. I sleep with an empty mind, empty conscience; to start up with life as soon as I wake up the next day. But scruples, I hate them. This isn't how I am. I never stopped smiling. I never chose to forget or ignore or avoid, I just want my folks happy. And I have what will keep me going. INDIGNATION.
"People don't know what its like to be angry in the bone"
I often feel I can't fight these abstract elements on my own. I'll end up being too lonely. Too exhausted.
Yes, I'm angry. Situations. Unwanted actions. Rude words. Apathy. Meanness. Jealousy. Stupidity. INDIFFERENCE. And justifications for the same.
Anger, I've learnt makes things easy. Hatred, distrust and disgust in general. For everyone. Fair game. It saves me the element of surprise when people betray, back-stab or ruthlessly murder your faith. Also, gives me a self-defence mechanism against myself developing expectations from anyone. Expectation is a bitch. I used to think expecting as much you can deliver in reciprocation is fair. But FUCK fairness. People who said that this isn't a fair world, weren't all whining.
Anyway, this anger induces a lot of energy within my body. And I feel the need to channel it, direct it somewhere. An set myself free. I run.
That has always been my passion. I do it with a lot of vigour. And then I think of all the things that have been in the past couple of months. My jaws tighten up. Regrets. Concerns. Shit-on-my-face insults. I pull my muscles together as if trying to run away. And the temperature rises. From my forehead to my feet. I find it comforting to push myself into extremities of physical activeness stretching upto the point where breakdown occurs.
Even when my lungs give up, I drag myself for some distance. Mostly thinking of situations where I should've put in some extra effort.
And thinking is an act I cannot avoid. The chain, true to it's continuous nature, moves on from one thought to another.
I have too many things to say. I just don't know how.
Some days it rains. My footsteps set deep into the muddy waters, splashing all around. The sweat lines on my forehead dissolve into the pouring rain. The green of the trees gets sharper and brighter. This makes my head light. This adds to the spirit and the vigour.
Atleast at the end of the day, I am tired. I've exhausted all my energy, satisfied my anger. I can't think anymore. I sleep with an empty mind, empty conscience; to start up with life as soon as I wake up the next day. But scruples, I hate them. This isn't how I am. I never stopped smiling. I never chose to forget or ignore or avoid, I just want my folks happy. And I have what will keep me going. INDIGNATION.
"People don't know what its like to be angry in the bone"
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