Late Night Rant

The clock tells it’s 12 A.M. Midnight. Or new day. I don’t care. Silence is here. I like silence.

I was sleeping. Something woke me up. I saw around. No one was present. I tried sleeping again. It didn’t come. Tried everything. Drank water, took a short walk, listened to music, read something; sleep eluded me. And now I feel mad. All day I have to slog through to forget this wasteland and now when I was just about to do it, something woke me up.

Bad dreams. There ain’t a thing like that for me. No dream is as scary as life. And people are stupid. They talk continuously. They talk about how they find relationships and dealing with other people difficult. People are stupid. I couldn’t say it straight to their face. They’d punch me. They talk much and listen little. Everyone does so. This is the problem. No one wants to listen and everyone talks. What a circus.

Memories. I remember them. Little piece of situation stuck in head. It comes at odd times. Makes me useless. It slows me down. Too much for remembering. Now people say memories are good and bad. Keep the good ones and forget the bad ones. I said earlier that people are stupid. They really are. Memories are just time wasted doing something and time wasted again later remembering it. I reek with cynicism.

Love is fake. Or people are. Anyways, both are fake. Belittling self everytime. Telling self they aren’t good enough for someone. Crying over things. Showing affection. Later bitterness. Waiting for the perfect one to arrive. Listening to these romantic songs. Having expectations which are always unmet. Feeling low continuously because an idiot did or said something hurtful. Then picking yourself up. Loving one. Hating him/her later. Late night chats faking intimacy. Always smiling to hide insecurity. Falling in love and then falling out. Feeling low, depressed, dejected. Then the journey of picking up pieces begin. And the worst thing. This shitshow never ends. Everytime you have your head up, there is some stupid trying to mess with it. For all love is, a con job of mind. Heart pumps blood. Mind is messy.

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