Impact Zero

How! How did I derail? How did I do this? What just happened? Why am I writing normal stuff? Why am I being so nice, I mean trying to be nice? What is happening to me? Why am I trying to be normal? Why am I trying to be sensitive to something as bizzare as this? Why!

Disclaimer Not Suitable For Reading, because no one is reading, duh! Don’t pretend you do. I would know if you did. It’s not a super power, but more of a calculated deduction.

Why do you read? Why do we read? Why does anyone read? Because we want to live a world that is a world apart from the one we live in. But mostly, we read to live the world of the person behind the book or even that small write up. It tells us so much, it teaches us, perhaps inspires us a little as well. And in retrospective, it gives us a chance to escape from the charades of life and immerse ourselves in something we can ponder over, and perhaps act as well, mostly how what we are reading drives us. But if you ask me to be frank, I never the same about the textbooks in school when compared to the fiction books I read. I would be glad if you agree as well, but otherwise, going well textbookaholic ( Yes, I create stuff occasionally).

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Now, the more important question is why do you write? The analogy as to why would anyone write differs from person to person and well, to be fair each one has a different reason so as to why would they write. Let me tell you, writing is not easy, or may be it’s just me. Writing is not easy when you think of the elements. The elements range from people’s opinions to our own stigma or are they called our inhibitions? Amidst all, we write not only to express ourselves but it is what frees us, frees up from the charades of life, frees us from ourselves. Ourselves! Interesting, right? Well, yes! Because if you could  observe the broader picture, we are the ones who keep us from writing. We give excuses saying that it is the work, it is the life happening, it is this or that and the most common of them which not surprisingly I use all the time is “Writers Block”.

This brings me to the most important aspect that I wanted to discuss, or if you care to discuss that is : What would make someone read a post? A tacky title? A provoking photo? The few lines under the title, also called as an excerpt, giving a brief about the actual post, or sometimes it’s just the first 50-60 words of the said post. Or is it the name of the writer/blogger, who wrote the post? Because I know a lot of people just don’t read the post. I have come across a wide variety of people (by people I mean bloggers, some of them friends as well), or in general, a majority of whom just don’t read the post. WordPress makes it easy to navigate through the feed of the bloggers one follow. But then again, why don’t people read the post in their Reader feed? Is it the small excerpt that somehow leads to the possible neglect. Neglect is a strong word. I would rather say ‘Like‘ the post without actually reading it. Because reading would basically generate a thought, howsoever is not always favourable most of the time, but that is what the comment section is for – to understand the others point of view.

To give a better picture of what goes in the mind of a writer is a cumulation of a million thoughts, carefully formulated to make a logical sense of the topic at hand, and while at it address the various issues at hand and probably seek help from people reading, or inspire a little, if need be. Or sometimes people just want to be heard and see if others could relate, just to assure themselves that they are just not alone. But I guess that would be asking too much of people.

This brings to the realization that why I am stressing out on so much? Why can’t I just write the stupid stuff that I usually write and be done with it. Because in my time of writing all this while, I have come across people who are not perfect. Perfect!? Such a cliche word. So, let me rephrase : I have come across people who are imperfectly perfect, because we as writers want to be heard, no doubt, but at the same time we also need that shoulder to lean on or just be there, even if one can’t offer a shoulder. I always wanted to be that shoulder or to lend a hand or just be there, listen, or perhaps just read and tell them that “It is going to be alright”.

To the imperfectly-perfect people,
I just want to tell you and assure that I am here for you, anyday, anytime. I am not perfect either. so, bear with me, we will go through the mess together.
– Imperfect being.

And like my title suggests, I want to leave an impact. People usually look for a positive outlook at life, I fail to do so, at every word I write, ever letter I carve. As a matter of fact, I do the exact opposite thing, give the glimpse of the dark side. It is a purview of a person enduring most of it. So, it is also a concern that no one else faces the same darkness, and fight those demons alone. It is just to reassure that I can’t win that battle, but I have seen Spartan, Gladiator and the likes of it. I will leave it at that.

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How! How did I derail? How did I do this? What just happened? Why am I writing normal stuff? Why am I being so nice, I mean trying to be nice? What is happening to me? Why am I trying to be normal? Why am I trying to be sensitive to something as bizzare as this, comments (what now?), people reading my blog(Am I being serious now!) ? Where did all the dark stuff go? Where is my old fried, darkness? Why am I reaching for the light? Why!

–  Enigma

Peace.

How beautiful is the pain!
How ecstatic is the relief!
How free does freedom feel!
How peace is the solace!
How beautiful are the
memories flashing!
How euphoric is the final breath!

Do you smell the shampoo, that you used the last night, a tinge of your hair spray and the cologne you used the other day! Do you feel the vibrations in your vision through your closed eyes, an animated sequence of the Windows 98 screensaver playing in your head. Or perhaps are they your memories brushing by waster than they should!

Do you see the soft satin cloth, elegantly long and neatly folded, calling out to you to open and embrace it, embrace the softness of the cloth! How comfortable would the cloth look around the neck! How much it would bring out the color in the eyes, and let’s not forget the fairness in the face! How beautiful it looks suspended in the air under the ceiling!

How cute are those tiny pleasures? A little too many for one last ride and it gives you the euphoria that you had never even expected ever. Do you feel that you are in a world, a new one altogether, or perhaps a little too far from the reach of anyone, completely oblivious of the world you are currently in!

Do you see the sharpness alluring you, calling out to you to take it in your hands and see what wonders this shiny edge could do on your arms or that slender neck of yours? How beautiful would these streaks of random lines across your arm look as an army of red marches down like a parade,  a perfect emblem for eternity, or perhaps a temporary one. How majestic would the river be that flows through each single streak?

Do you feel the cold breeze brushing through your hair, that sweet comfort that you get after a tiring day walking around in the sun! Do you feel the adrenaline rushing through every cell of your body as you come closer to the edge and take a peek down at the blurry ground beneath! Do you feel the tinge of impulse charging through your legs, an emancipation of the fear filled with the last excitement as the wind ruffles the hair under your soft heavy breaths.

Do you taste the water as it slowly engulfs you in its embrace! Do you feel the shoulders being pushed down under your own weight! Do you feel the mind going through a million things at once and your legs battle, as do your hands. Do you see those tiny balls of air escaping from you and how much you want to stop that from happening, you unfortuanately are not in control.

Because peace is what we want and sometimes, there are just too little ways to finally be in peace!

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