In the Queue of Double Standards


I have been hating men,  I can’t really evaluate for how long but each of them has proven to be deserving of that spot. Perhaps respect is the one thing that matters the most to everyone, you, me and even them. When you can’t deliver respect at the worst of your time then you can’t really expect good in return because that is equality. Exceptions are when you really care about someone. Mind my thoughts please, but if someone cares about you then they need your attention and care in response as well. Not even a King can get all the attention without spending anything in return. A relationship between two beings  isn’t based upon sexual superiority but is rather based on the masculinity and strength of emotions and thoughts. A man who cannot consider the shortcomings of a better half equivalent to that of his own family than he cannot demand equality on his own part as well.

Not every relationship is the same and neither is every situation. If a woman is placed under a man’s arm it doesn’t mean she has all the support she needs because a slight pressure from the arm can cause immense pain in the relationship. Ask your male ego to take some rest and consider yourself equal to the person next to you irrespective of who they are. If they care for you disregarding their own family and other relationships means they already have given up everything for you but when you raise the level of your ego to the point where you can’t even see yourself is the point where they realise that may be all of this isnt worth it. Pay a little more attention for if they have the power to stand up for you in front of everyone and you cant even take stand in front of your family then dont question their love and respect for you, question yourself for your own efforts and attempts.

P.S: everyone goes through a rough day, mind asking them instead of being asked for before. If I respect its because I deeply care about you. Stop pushing yourself towards the herd of the hated.

Reminder


There really are moments that bring so much back to your mind and in front of your eyes that you cant help but think what difference it makes or has made in the years that have passed by. You feel strange whatever has come along and think about how much and how many have you left behind. That one moment caused by your own stimulation, drives vibes of past memories across your eyes without you moving an inch through the time machine. The moment made me realize how actually time changes where at the same moment you were surrounded and here you were stranded alone with your thoughts about that very past. The day coming along and some strange conversation gives you equally strange pins about reality, your reality perhaps. Your mind, at times, is not a good place to be at for you are far more responsible for your own pain then of someone else’s. Better learn never to open up as much as someone ask you to. Words seem far prettier and meaningful when they’re unsaid instead of letting them out in the wold wandering like blind butterflies. Find peace in self and try not lean too much on a wall that needs to move on or can get relocated to fulfill some other important purpose. Yet these too are just words.

On another note it just reminded me of what a friend once said, which is quite right though, ‘Let them be with whom they want to be. As if now if they aren’t with them because of you, those people would be the one’s they will want to be with when you wont be around to tell them’. A good piece as a food for thought but certainly not related to what I had been talking about.

Murder.


One day I woke up to find out that I had killed my own-self. There, there I lie beneath the bloodshed of expectations, accused of murdering the pride of my love. Ever so guilty and all so helpless. What purpose had I been left behind with? To stab him with more agony? To bruise him with anger? Nay, tis’ was time that I brought it to an end. Time to murder myself, where he is all I got, and none is that I cared, then I shall not be here. I shall not be!

 

I killed myself for the lover’s pride. I killed myself for his smile.

Dare to Write?


People say you’re lucky enough that you get to write when you’re sad, you can jot down every thought and every visual that passes by your eyes. At least you don’t get to cry at every little thing in your life. I being a case of eternal confusion by birth and having a piece of tarnished brain stuck within the slimy cobweb of boiling emotions thinks, the un-thinkable.
I justify my thoughts by pointing out how difficult it is to come back to the exact moment in your life and re-live it through your own darn words. Can you re-live your tears? I bloody know you can’t. Tears are the byproducts of the pain produced within. Words are the outcome of what goes on above and not within. These words suppress your self for a while till it again encounters the exact moment in time through these digital imprints. What you feel then turns out to be the exact opposite of what you felt before. Creating an emotional wreck out of your already bitten body.
For you, crying might seem a tool of embarrassment or a sense of contentment. I believe, though those drops of water that run down your face might seem bitter and meaningless, but unlike words, they wont ever bring back the misery you once went through.

My most precious one.


Excerpt from Ludwig van Beethoven’s letter to his beloved.

Even when I am in bed my thoughts rush to you, my eternally beloved, now and then joyfully, then again sadly, waiting to know whether Fate will hear our prayer–To face life I must live altogether with you or never see you. Yes, I am resolved to be a wanderer abroad until I can fly to your arms and say that I have found my true home with you and enfolded in your arms can let my soul be wafted to the realm on blessed spirits–alas, unfortunately it must be so–
ever yours
ever mine
ever ours

L.