People.

There is never a day of calm and peace and sunshine.

There are never ending storms that live within me. Sometimes they are strong enough to level cities, and at other times they make me want to stay indoors and put all the lights on. The only catch is that the electricity is out and I cant put those lights on. Those demons that live within me, they get to me at times and it makes me so angry that I break things; both things that are tangible and things that aren’t. They say that you should never regret anything because it was exactly what you wanted at one point in time.

It’s funny though because I never wanted all of this fury that lives within me. Am I justified then in feeling remorseful when I fuck shit up?

People confuse me. Sometimes I feel like maybe I’m a part of some setup where everybody else is privy to some truth that remains hidden from me. Being lonely is different from being alone. I feel alone not lonely, mainly because I fucking love myself. But sometimes I look around and don’t understand shit. How is it so easy for everybody else? Am I the only abnormal one out here pretending to be normal?

What do people mean to me? Is a person just some outsider who comes from the same species as I do whom I feel no further connection to? Or is it something more. Are people conduits who we plug ourselves into so that we can understand more and feel more? I don’t know I’m still in the process of figuring that part out. I used to think that we meet people, become close to them and maybe build a home in them for some part of ourselves to reside in. Maybe I was wrong about that part. Maybe everybody around us is nothing more than a hostel that we have to pack up and move out of at some point in time. It’s only logical, right? I mean if some part of you resides in somebody else then when that person is no longer around you lose that part of yourself.

It’s kind of hard to figure things out sometimes. On the one hand everything happens for a reason. The parts of me that I lose as I go down this long winding path that leads to nowhere were probably meant to be lost in the first place. Or was I meant to learn something from all of this. Was I meant to learn how to build strong impenetrable walls around myself through experience? If I am to build these walls, then how will I save myself from myself. It’ll be like trapping myself in a room with my devil. I’ll beat the shit out of that motherfucker but to what end will I keep pounding my clenched fist on what is in essence me? I don’t know. I’m confused and I don’t have any answers that will satiate my need for closure.

Yeah, I think about these things.

Are you on the same frequency?

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About Banda Mann Singh Lamba

I'm here to create art in the form of words. Come, take a dip in my day dreams.
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