29th October, 2021.
To; The reader who to happened to stumble upon my blog.
greetings, “stranger”. its 3 years since I last posted anything on my page. The blog, being my muse. Me, being an absent parent to it.
Call this post a letter to myself to let out some steam, or call it a childish escape of feelings left unsaid, my escape to the judgemental harshness in my mind. It’s my letter, to me. but since its on the web, you may as well eavesdrop into my thoughts. Yours Truly.
Dear mind, I love the way you run faster than my actions or speech ever can catch up. Shooting ideas, conversations, and “Center Fresh” moments at bullet fast speeds. a “sigh, with so much to do, what do I do ?” I raise my hands up and give up.
Every Idea, thought and moment leaves me alone faster than they came from. ” no! wait! what did I just think, what just came to me? what was i told to remember? ” being a constant phenomena.
And the Way you judge other people when they are “overly expressive and dramatic” according to you, or the fact that you categorize people so easily based on their likes and dislikes, their fashion style, their pronouns, and their way of living makes me think about disowning you most of the time. the way you categorize other guys as an Alpha, Beta or Sigma really makes me angry at you. people are people. not an Alpha male , Beta simp, just me and you. Sometimes a leader when they’re feeling like they can control the situation, and sometimes a follower when they don’t know better. Dear mind, I love you for making my life easy, but lets please grow up now. this feeling of insecurity over friendships, love, and family is something I want you to work on.
Dear mind, its time to move on. for far too long you have run away from the “L” word , and getting close to anyone just because you cant do it. I dont think you’ve noticed but ” I barely have time for it” sounds as ridiculous as ” Bros before Hoes”, neither of which you have. (jk,jk. sorry mitron). I agree that one must learn to love oneself before he can love anyone else, but does loving someone else really start when loving oneself ends? or is it a lifelong process, If loving yourself has to end, then why start in the first place?
“Its mighty of me to talk about the “L” word considering, you know….” The Brain.
Oh shut it, mind. you indulgent cookie monster. self sabotage and self pity being your cookies.
Dear mind, sometimes I’m confused if you really are the “non materialistic” “non attachment” “non toxic, safe for kids” and any other “non worldly desires” you’d like to add into your biodata, or is it just an easy way out of genuine hard work, and the drive to materialistic and non materialistic achievements? maybe there’s a reason the present economy works well, where people buy things they don’t need and out of wants; where people buy a Ferrari when a Fiat works too; where people go to forests to take a break, then take their surround sound speakers with the best of food and drinks to chill, coming to wilderness and making it just like their life in the city. the only difference? your companions being monkeys, this time, literally. Maybe it all works for the simple fact that materialistic or not, it gives people motivation to get off their asses and do something and earn a living so that they may buy the latest Iphone 12. and by buying this, it gives them happiness. and that’s okay too you know?
”why yuck other peoples yums?” People who like pineapple on pizza, probably.
Dear mind, you confuse me.
you analyse others, putting them into neat little baskets and compartments labelled “Dumbass” “Role model” “Alpha/beta” to name a few, but a simple question of “who am I” returns with utter blankness. no answer. the very fact that you notice the smallest details about a situation, but never assume the glaringly obvious is a paradox in itself.
Its you and I against ourselves, a constant tug of war over who gets control of my actions and words. And yet, I know that that you’re my only constant companion, the one I never chose to have, and its upto us to get my life in control.
Sincerely, Husain Kapasi.
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