The laughing stock!

Ok!

I have become the proverbial laughing stock. This isn’t the problem, though. The problem lies somewhere else. Let me tell you: I don’t choose to be unhappy. Rather, I pretend to be unhappy. This life is awesome, fabulous, fascinating and colourful. I have lost count of my happy moments. Now, you believe me, I am happy as anybody could be in this earth.

• For I love despair
• For I play blind to the reality
• For I pretend the responsibility

Of what:

• Of a destitute
• Of a life less lived
• Of a person
  

Some tongue in cheek comments; I listened them all, through my ear and stored them to reprocess in my favour. We should learn to live on reprocessed products. Everything has been exhausted, including love and faith.


I thought, they knew me by my name…the infamous name. Sorry, my dreams were rather bizarre. My name was up for an auction. No prejudice but all the chauvinism were there, put together by an unknown curator; that’s how we make-up the untold stories of so many lives! Who knows if somebody is following you the way you are following me.


Do I need to talk again? No, never!


Yes, asking questions are comparatively easier, for us fools. But, we do not have ready-made answers and do not follow all the protocols of servitude, that we called life. Yet, the truth is written on the wall. Live your own lives. If somebody asks me about my life, I would rather ask over if you know me that well, for a question like that?


Even easier is to give advice. Advices come in all virtues. But I hate these virtues like any other vice, for that connives like evils do, in their favour. You must have read few lines to come up to me and thought of this opportunity to pass on few advices. I respect that. But, beyond that, you are just another shadow to me. I know you will fear to face the light. That’s life. And that light is truth. Everybody comes with certain past following them and they think of imageries and metaphors, just to avoid it.


This is what has happened recently. [I creep a lot!] I cannot accept other’s truth. It seems to me, the eyes of truth are inside me and watching every step of mine. It reminds me of three versions of truth. Unluckily, it’s my life. And the truth was a part of my life.

And I don’t fear to be weak. This is my way of tackling your so called virtues. The only virtue that I know is love. Somebody will come in the name of love.