Going Crazy

I sit by the wall
And look up
These sounds speak
Once again
They speak to each other
And tell things
One says that the girl
Whom you rejected
Scorns you
Other says that the girl
Isn’t even aware
Of your existence
One says that you will
Be punished
For this sin
Other says that you’re
Ugly and no woman
Ever spoke to you
One says people see through you
And they know you’re fake
Other says you are always mistaken for who you are
One says that your behaviour
Is weird and it puts people off
Other says that you are too bland
And people don’t like you around
These sounds
Aren’t mine
I think they belong to someone
Who look like me
But isn’t me
But how can this be
I don’t know
All that I know is
I’m going crazy

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.

The pictures of me

The pictures of me
Which you have in mind
They are wrong
Completely irrelevant

It’s not that i care
What you think of me
Or that i want to be
Admired by the likes of you
Although your company, maybe

Justification for things i did
I’d give you none
I did nothing wrong
Then you’d say
If you did nothing wrong
Then why are trying so hard to prove it to me
The thing is
Thoughts of me getting wrongly judged by people
They bear burden of this soul of mine
They make me desperate and a wannabe
Then i try to act like i want myself to be
What people should think of me
Kind, helpful, always forgiving and whatnot
And over time
It suffocates my existence.

You’d wonderr
How much power i give other over me
None, i’d say
It’s a game
A battle
Me vs. Me
The one who is always right
The another one who is always wrong
But right or wrong
It sounds same inside my head
And it confuses me