Seeds of hope

Stage 1

Seeds of hope are sowed carefully onto you knowingly or unknowingly by a sower.

That sower can be your mom, dad, your friend, your enemy, a stranger, God, the universe or even you.

Hope for love, hope for money, hope for happiness, hope for more; different seeds like these are sown.

When sown, you think nothing of it. What it would do to you and What you would do.

Stage 2

A seed of hope has been planted.

Every day is spent in agony wondering how the seed is growing.

Many a times, growing these seeds are good. The nature of it is what matters. In this case, a bad seed has been sown.

A small seed is enough to cause a massive stir. The smallest insignificant detail slowly tends to outgrow the practicalities in you. It descends upon you and drives you into madness slowly.

I am exposed and stripped to my very core. I need an armour to fight off the delusions planted by my sower.

It takes days for the seed to develop into something.

There is still hope for it not be something.

Stage 3

The seed has begun to sprout under the watchful eyes of the sower.

When the pests try to contain the seed from growing, the sower adds fertilisers to your mind protecting you from the realities outside.

Seasons change, different conditions and temperatures have started to affect the seed sown. It is rising and nothing seems to snip it down. It is seeding now.

With all the right conditions, it will turn into a sapling. A step closer to a greater fall or a greater good. I am not sure until I am provided with the cirucmstances.

Stage 4

The seed has sprouted into a sapling.

A sapling is under nurturing, being nurtured to be a part of something big and unknown.

It continues to grow without no feller cutting it down. It would have been an easy and sad death with minimal consequences.

It is growing to withstand amongst the harshest of conditions and very little gentle breezes.

Some one cut it down before it matures into a tree. I beg of you. This tree will only end up in a sad demise once grown.

Stage 5

During the fragile years of the sapling, it had been fed false hopes that could have been true if fate had not altered the plans.

If the feller or the sower would have shown mercy, this tree would not have to suffer for as long it was intended.

This tree could have been snagged at the very beginning but instead, it has chosen to grow and be in the wild.

Since it has matured to its very peak, no one no longer showers it with love or give it a pretence of a false hope. Instead, it is now slowly beginning to survive in the wild, learning, watching and suffering.

Stage 6

As the tree starts to grow older, the hope starts to die by bits.

The tree learns how to live with what it has been given but the sliver of hope still remains. That sliver of hope drenched in fantasy is what might keep it going. A fantasy of being nurtured and loved.

The regret of that hope sown is evident. The tree no longer stands with the vigour its predecessor carried. It now stands cracked, grey and leafless.

The decayed bits of the tree return back to the soil, its nutrients waiting to be soaked by the future seeds.

One will never be lucky enough to reap the fruits bore by the tree.

I guess that seed was sown just to be killed later.

Some Times, Many Times

Some times, I wish I did not have to account other people’s feelings into consideration before I erupt.

Many times, I unfortunately do so and then regret it the moment later. I am now learning to care more and I understand that now.


Some times, I wish I did not live in a world where life is this unfair.

Many times, I have no other choice but to live in this unfair world.


Some times, I wish I had all the time in the world to do everything I want without the need to worry for money

Many times, I fantasise about doing so but ultimately fantasies lead you no where. So I am doing my best and working hard so that I have the money to do everything I want and hope.


Some times, I wish I did not have to live a life where I only remember sorrows and seeds of hate

Many times, I have now realised this is the life I was given and there is nothing I could do to change it


Some times, I wish I could share more

Many times, I understand why I haven’t


Some times, I wish not to be consumed by the idea of love knowing what I expect will never happen

Many times, I let it happen


Some times, I wish I could leave for the woods and a city like New York

Many times, what I do instead is I listen to music and watch videos that make it possible


Some times, I wish I was more creative and not filled with remorse or self doubt about what I could do

Many times, I believe I am more than what I think and believe but my doubts plague me down

Some times, I loose my sleep and mind thinking if I will ever make it

Many times, I doubt if I would make it and Many times, I have hope that I will make it.


Some times, I wish the world could be a better place in terms of everything

Many times, I wish the world could be a better place in terms of everything and I try doing my bit to make this world a better place for everyone and everything. When it succeeds, I am happy and inspired to do more.


Some times, I wish I had not watched that many movies which have now influenced me to think that my life could perhaps be like that

Many times, I am glad I have watched those movies because that is the only way I could ever live a life like that


Some times, I wish I did not have to feel so much

Many times, I am glad I could feel the way I feel


Many times, I feel my heart shatter at the sight of homeless people and the jobs one needs to do to have a living. I wonder what can I do to help? Then I realize, by growing up and getting a job, I can do my bit for them.


Some times, I wish I could do something about the dark desires I want to do

Many times, I have chosen not to act on it because I do not want to take part in painting the world red contributing to everything bad


Many times I wish I did not feel a burst of sadness and sympathy when I look at old people who remind me of my grandparents

Some times are the only times I take an action to spend time with them.


Many times I wish I were not engrossed in my laptop and on my phone

Sometimes I decide to spend some time in the outside world with my family and that time is actually worth spending.


Some times, I wish I was not given this life. I wish I had been offered a choice for a life I wanted to lead

Many times, I am glad I got this life but the hope still lingers


Some times, I am envious when people think of my life not exciting as other

Many times, I simply do not care and move on


Some times, I wish I had a sibling so that I would never fear being alone when my parents leave me

Many times, I am glad I am the only child in my family because I love that I am the sole receiver of all their love


Many times, I wish I could lie down in a room so high with a view that overlooked the city lights listening to music that make me feel everything

Many times, I find myself wishing to be in a cabin in the woods amongst the forest listening to the rain and writing

Many times, I find myself dreaming of being in an apartment so high where I could see the rays of the sun spread across the whole city.


Many times, I wish I could honour every promise I have made to everyone I ever love

Some times in many, I have honoured those promises


Some times, I wish I had a best friend who was all to myself. A best friendship like Miley and Lilly, Alex and Harper and like the F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Many times, I am so blessed to be in best friendships unique and happy to me.


Many times, I dream about a love so great that the whole world will write stories about someday.

Many times, I understand the probability of it not happening. Many times, I come to terms of my reality and what is offered.


Many times, I wish I was handed a childhood where I did not have to see my parents fight a lot.

Some times, I wish the Armageddon would come and sweep it all away.


Many times, I wish I did not have regrets in life to look back upon

Some times, I realise those regrets were needed for me to learn but I cannot help thinking on how they could have been avoided. I guess that is just my mind. Never satisfied.


Many times, I wish I had not kept so many secrets from my parents. I wish I could have let them know it all but I know I will be judged, possibly even worse.


Many of the times, I dwell in the nostakgaix of my childhood and wish I were trapped in that state forever

Many of the times, I am glad I am growing up to be more independent and free because I can edit my own path and see where it goes. I am happy for the freedom I get and for the chances I can take. I am also happy because of the progress in growing up because I get to be further away from all the fights I have to witness.


Some times, I wish I never left my home

Many times, I am glad I did but then I weep at stages


Many times, I wish people could see me through my eyes and not theirs

Some times, I am glad that is not the case because through different eyes, different and unique perspectives come out and you learn a lot more that way. You know they like you or do not like for who you are from their eyes and not from the monstrous eyes you have. It makes things slightly better in many ways.


Many times, I wish I could be happy with the way I am

Some times, I am very ecstatic and proud and then the other times I am not and I wish I could change every single detail about myself.


Many times, I wish I could show people the changes I wish they could bring upon themselves

Some times, I ponder on why they can’t see what they do.


Many times, I wish life had not handed me the atrocious parts in a sliver platter

Some times, I understand why life handed me them. To make me grow or I deserved it?


There are going to be plenty of these some and many times in my life and I know I can do something about it or nothing at all.

I will try and achieve as many of these some and many times in my life but also what I like to do instead is to fantasise and think of the possibilities rather than end my misery because there is something in this misery that keeps my mind alive and ticking.

The Joker’s Naughty Sister

Brought to you by my Nightmares

I have written down every detail I could remember from this one. This nightmare stuck to me the most and also from many of the frightening nightmares, I remember this very vividly.

I made sure I remembered all the details by going over them again and again while trying to sleep because I wanted to write this down. I have been thinking about writing my dreams for a while and this helps.

Sometimes, I think by fixating over these details over and over, the nightmare would come back but it never has. Instead a new one comes every night.

I have put names of the people who were in my dreams by their starting and ending letter of the name in “quotes”.

It starts now…

The dream starts by I boarding the metro to a destination. When I stepped out, it seemed like I was in China Town. I figured so because of the atmosphere, the buildings, the unknown language and the markets. The strange thing was rather than expecting to find what one finds in China Town, I found that it was markets of Harry Potter instead.

The town was abandoned. I was alone. It seemed like some thing out of an apocaplyse but with everything still managing to look fresh.

Each store was a theme related to Harry Potter and this one particular store caught my eye. I guess it was a cafe and outside the entrance were the statues of Harry, Hermione and Ron pointing their wands casting a spell at the store. It was an interesting sight for the eyes.

An unknown sense of cold filled the town and I knew I needed to get out. I felt this dread within. I tried searching for a way to get out. I walked back and forth and around to find a way out.

I don’t what happened next in the dream but now I was at the metro. This metro had connections to the entire world and could take me anywhere. I saw the metro rush behind the glassed doors carrying passengers or something else. I am not sure anymore.

I went down to the platform to ask someone for help and I got helped. I needed to get to Burjuman, a mall in Bur Dubai. I did not know what for, all I knew was that I was headed there.

I stood on the shaking compartment and proceeded to look out at the views outside. It was different but appealing. I saw buildings achieve various architectural feats. Among the many buildings, I saw this one building have the most beautiful stained glass allowing various colours to be seep into the glass building. Those stained glasses had pictures that told stories. Sadly, I did not know what they told.

Now, I was at the airport with my mom and we were in a lounge. This lounge seemed like it was meant for people travelling in an elite class. The lounge was spacious and it had red floors and golden curtains hang. The place gleamed.

There were many tables and six chairs surrounded each one. It was the most fanciest and sophistcated place I have ever been in.

I don’t think I was in the right attire for this atmosphere.

Myself and my mom walked down this big lounge and we find our old neighbours seated at the table right in the middle. It was the mother “M.Y” and her daughter “M.A.L”. It looked like we all were having a jolly time, with choclate mouse on the table for all of us to dig in.

Out of nowhere, this Malayali actor Suresh Gopi comes and decides to sit with us. He sits next to me.

There were 6 chairs at the time, two taken by mom and myself, two taken by the other mother and daughter and one taken by the actor. The other chair was not taken. For some reason I do not rememeber the sixth chair being there but I knew it was. My gut says so.

Suddenly, I find the actor and myself sitting on my chair. I was sitting on a very tiny space of the chair and I was half hanging out but somehow I managed to sit just fine and then numbers of the chair reduced from 6 to 5. I frankly don’t understand the logic of this.

There were 5 occupied chairs but how was the actor still in my chair if the fifth chair were occupied?

The space seemed much smaller and more intimate. I started to panic and with my heart racing out of my chest, I rushed from there.

I did not know where my legs took me but now I was in a small movie theatre hardly with 30-50 seats in it. I saw four of my old high school friends, now who I no longer keep in touch with.

“T.L and J.E” stood on the right side of the theatre while “M.A and A.I” stood on the left. They had concerned looks on their face while watching me break into this paranoia.

I broke down on the stairs. I knelt down and remained there saying to them that I was convinced that I was in some sort of experiment, being controlled, being watched. I was convinced the whole world was in on this. It felt as if I was in a psycholigcal thriller. I was missing the bigger picture, the bigger lie.

Those four people stook there trying to tell something, something in the lines of “what you are thinking is not true, it is nothing of that sorts.”

I was on the main stage now, in front of the big screen, down on the floor. As I rushed towards the door, I found the joker stand. This joker looked different. This joker took the form of Milley Cyrus, a rather frightening version of her. Her hair all tangled in knots, pale white skin, colours of green and purple bled on her face and in her hair. She looked into my eyes viciously with meaning.

In seconds, I found myself spring upright, mere inches away from her face and then I saw what terrified me the most. Her eyes sewn shut. I could see the black thread stitched in and out of her eyes. Her eyes opened.

I was now a few feet apart from her and the Joker. This Joker was now the Joker I was used to seeing in movies. The Joker played by Heath Ledger and then beside him stood that being.

I do not know if you know this, but there is this black board above some of the movie halls that show the movie they are about to play or the ongoing movie in that hall. That board appeared above the movie screen and showed the title “The Joker’s Naughty Sister.”

I was watching all of this behind my computer screen, watching the other me. It felt like I was watching a movie but it was not. I knew that being beside the Joker was me. This connection was personal and intimate. I felt it.

Then I screamed

Dream Over

I screamed for my mom. I called her name out loud. It was as if a demon was being exorcised right out of my body. My mom came by my side and comforted me like always.

She was used to these nightmares of mine. I have them almost every single day and in every single day, I cry out for her name. Most of the nightmares, I do not remember what happened but this one, I did. I do not know why.

Every nightmare, I scream for my mom and in some of them, I wake up in terror. I do not know why I get these. I wish I knew.

I tried going back to sleep but the moment I shut my eyes, I saw the stitched eyes looking back at me. Every time I wanted to close my eyes, instead of seeing darkness, I saw those eyes.

So I opened my eyes out of fear every once a while to get that image out of my head and then I slept.

Questions and Answers

( A white space surrounds the two people. The fog from the small window open creeps and settles in the room creating a hazy atmosphere.

Two black chairs are present in the middle of the white room with a black table separating them. They are on opposite sides of the table making it easier for them to talk

Various tools are kept on the table and the clock ticks but not so loudly where that tick becomes the only noise in the silent room.

They are on opposite sides of the table making it easier for them to talk)

Myself: I want you to just sit there and listen to me. When needed and appropriate, you may ask me questions to further question my thoughts but unless I say so, I do not want to hear an objection or a rebuttal. I just want you to sit there and listen to me.

Stranger: I understand, I will do as you asked me but before we begin. I want to know why me, a stranger? You could have had anyone but why choose to talk with a stranger?

Myself: I am sick of keeping every thought I have to myself and I want to share it with someone who doesn’t know me on any basis. I want to talk about things and begin a conversation on a new plate. I did not want to talk to anyone who knew of me because they will already have pre concived notions of me.

I wanted something different and some times a stranger seems to be the only one you can turn to because it feels liberating to talk to someone who doesn’t know you entirely so you can open up the deepest and darkest version of yourself withiut having to worry what they would think.

Stranger: I am not afraid. You can tell me whatever you wish and I will sit and listen. Now go on and liberate yourself.

Myself: I like my dark side. I have only imagined what it would feel like to embrace it and commit every sin I ever wanted. I do not know why I ever feel this way but that is what I felt. I always pushed it into the deepest corner of my heart telling myself this was all very foolish but I could not keep lying to myself any longer.

I wanted to know how it felt having someone’s life end by me. I wanted to be the reason to see true fear in their eyes. I tried it for the first time, I don’t think I enjoyed it very much but I liked it. I did it again and then I did not know when and how to stop.

With each people, I got a bit better and versatile.

No one wanted to listen to how I truly felt. No one ever bothered to ask how I was doing. No one ever bothered to find out anything. So I decided I wanted to do my sin.

Stranger: How did it feel?

Myself: Liberating…

Stranger: Why did you feel the way you felt before you did your sins? Why do you say no one listened?

Myself: I do not know. I had the best of friends. They were there for me when I needed them and I guess I was there for them as well. I had fun times with them but none of my friends knew what I hid.

I felt like I wanted to talk but I couldn’t bring myself to it and in the case of my family, I felt by talking about my deepest feelings would concern or disappoint them. I felt at distress even at the thought of having to open up to people who knew me well.

Stranger: I understand why you chose to talk to a stranger now. Starting on a new front, very few people get that chance. I hope you don’t mind me asking but could you tell me how you did it?

What made you choose me and the people before me?

Myself: I do not know what reason to give. I guess I went with what my heart felt and well also with a bit of research. I was afraid of robbing the world of someone too good and pure, so I had to make sure.

Not that you were not good or pure, you did your sins and you know.

As for my process, I can tell you it is quite theatrical and simple. Something you might see in a movie but painted with a dose of reality.

A new person, a new different approach is what I go for many of the times.

I sit him/her down on the cold white floor that has not been used for a while. In the background, I play them their final song so that they can have something beautiful to listen to when they depart.

Each night would be a different song with a different person. I am going for the vibe I feel. Whilst the track plays, I listen to the words and then look out to the person sitting in front of me. I notice what they are doing in their final moments. I sit there and observe.

As the final note gets ready to end, I decide it’s time. I go behind, then choose a tool to slit their throat and watch the blood flow onto the white floor. What a beautiful colour, the blood. It would not be like the movies where the blood splatters. It would be like blood flowing gracefully to paint a picture.

I watch for a while and then decide to end the suffering. I do not know how I would end it but quick and easy is what I would go for. I guess my technique depends on the person and their virtues.

For a person with not so virtuous sins, slow and painful might be the route I would travel on and for the opposite, slow but quick is what I would choose.

After they depart, I get up from my chair, switch off the lights and leave. I do not look back because the show has ended.

Stranger: I see. It is interesting to hear what you said and I am sorry no one wanted to listen. Maybe they tried to make the effort but maybe you were not ready for it. I do not know what else to say but I am happy you talked your heart out. No secrets to burden you. You are liberated right? That is what matters.

I would like to ask you one more question. I apologise in advance if I have offended you but I need to know.

Have you ever considered killing someone close to you? Would you do it?

Myself: I am not surprised you would ask me that. I don’t know why, I expected it to be asked. Since no one asked, I did not think of an answer and now that I have been asked, I guess..

I guess when it comes to my family and my friends. I have thought about it but I would never commit it. I don’t think I could stand the thought of having their deaths by me. I don’t think my heart has it to look at their eyes as their life leaves them.

Stranger: A selfish answer but understandable. So now that I am done with the questions, do you have anything you would like to say?

Perhaps an other conversation before I am liberated of my sins.

Myself: No. No more conversation.

( puts on a song from a carefully curated list)

So, Here is the deal, you listened and that is all I ever wanted. You listened giving it all you got while others listened in sheer fear.

I forced them but they didn’t listen. I forced you but you listened.

So here is what. I will let you choose. Slow and quick? Easy and quick? Slow and painful? Easy and painful?

Stranger: Slow, easy and quick. Would that be possible? I would like to relish my life one last time before I leave. I do not do well with pain.

Myself: Your wish is my command.

(takes the decorating knife from the varied selection and slits throat leaving an extravagant design on my neck)

Stranger: (Watches with all curiosity and confusion) What does this mean? Why?

Myself: (mustering up all the courage and strength for one last sentence) You listened.

The lights start to flicker. The colour fades, the room disappears, yet the tools on the table still remains.

Stranger: (wakes up groggily and confused) Where am I ?

Myself: That was quite the sleep you had there. You must be very confused now.

All what happened in your sleep was defintely true except for the last. That is what I call your imagination taking the best of you. You do not need to know the details of how and when your imagination took the best of you.

Everyone before you listened, doesn’t mean it makes you special enough for me to give you up.

So, now that is done, I am sure you are well rested for what I have in store for you.

(Muffled screams try to escape the room but of no avail, stranger cannot be heard and will never be heard. Creative and intruguing ways to kill are being done with different tools. A new person, a new different approach.

The screams stop, the walls are decorated with red. The job is done. Out the black door, I walk out with a smile plastered on my face.

I have done my confession and my sin.

Who next? )

Why have feelings when you can toss them out?

Will there come a time when I run out of things to write?

Sometimes I imagine a time and a world where we humans do not have any feeling and emotion. We are there to simply exist and nothing else.

What would happen to the world and us?

If I did not have feelings, I would not be in unwanted situations and I think that would be nice.

A world where feelings and emotions were non existent. A world where imagination were non existent. What would become of us? What would happen to me? What talent would I or the world posess if none of us could react to it? What talent would I have or do if I did not have the feelings in me to decide?

If not for the above, would our world even progress? Would this world even be worthy to be called the name “world”? What a bore would that world be.

I often think and am always in deep thought about this situation. Why do I need to have feelings about anything? Why was I not given the ability to not feel and be unresponsive to everything? If that were to be the case, what kind of life I lead?

An easy one but it won’t be called a life.

Sometimes I wonder if not for my feelings, would I have anything to write? If not for the stories I am in, would I have anything to write? If not for using my imagination, would I have anything to write? Am I using the world to find stories to write? Am I using my emotions and feelings to write? But isn’t that what writers do?

It would become a world not worth living in but how would we know if we did not posesses the things that made us feel? This feeling of the world not being alive can only be felt when we possess that feeling but if not, would it be easy and warm to live in this comfort?

Many of the times, I am grateful to feel many things but I am also emotionally tired and utterly devastated to feel it. It is exhausting having to feel and wanting to feel. Sometimes I feel I should get rid of the parts of my brain that causes me to feel and emote.

I do not know what to do when I face emotions I don’t want to face even if they are nescessary for me to progress. I do not like to feel emotions that make me heavy in my heart. I do not like to feel emotions that are filled with tears. I like being in happy thoughts and being in a world where my fantasies come true, but that’s not possible and I am okay with it.

Maybe I can choose not to feel some of these things, but what good would that do to me if I can’t accept them as a part of me? I can’t run away from them and I don’t want to. Each of these feeling helps me somehow, I just am not sure how but I know they do help in some weird way.

I think I embrace them but not well. Who am I to determine that? I don’t know on what basis I am making this deduction.

It is the bad times that make us feel this way. That is when the good times help.

I just look out at the world and I am thankful for every feeling and emotion bestowed upon me. If I were incapable to feel, I would not have had the joy and sanity when I looked outside.

If not for these given feelings, I would not have had the capacity to fully immerse in wonderful experiences I have with my family and friends.

I feel happy when I go out for a walk listening to mellow tracks. That gives me the warmth and resolution to keep going and to be inspired. I have my faith renewed once again and a hope that I will do just fine.

I would not lie when I tell you that I am in a dilemma with matters like these. At times it seems so good but at times it only pains. I will always have my reactions to life and I guess nothing could change that. I could perhaps learn to react better and not let it hurt me more than it should.

These things are out of control and that is why being human is the most difficult job in the entire galaxy. It is a constant state of managing them in various ways best suited to you and for the world outside.



It was an on the spur ride

              
Let me paint you a picture here. A picture of what I did. 

I roamed around these streets filled with skyscrapers that soared up so high in the sky. 
I knew they are so high because I simply could not get them all to fit in one frame on the shot I wanted to take.
I feel oddly at home even though the home I once was in was miles away.
I felt at home when I came here, I guess it was those big blue windows that reflected light made it home. It was perhaps those big skyscrapers in the city and the bay front I once knew of made it home.  

After admiring the building, I walked along the bay, A view that needed admiration. Everything lining up waiting to be awed and gawked upon. 
I took selfies of myself being happy and silly to capture these moments, so that when I look back on these pictures, I am able to remember the moment and what I liked to do. 
Looking at the water, then onto the buildings and the statues felt pleasant and calm. 
It gave me a whiff of nostalgia and provided me with the city magic I needed. 
I was alone in this adventure of mine. 

Right beside the bay walk, there was a small green ground where the food festival was about to take place.
I saw families, friends, couples walk hand in hand smiling and admiring.
I liked the presence of myself. I could not create any chaos or unhappiness to myself in such places.
I admire being in them but could not help on how it would feel if I were to be with family, friends or a lover. 
A moment of happiness couldn't seem to last longer than a few minutes before the storm hits my family. It doesn't happen all time but it happens. I wasn't keen on taking that chance, not today. 
 
I saw people eat the delicacies from different stalls with their friends and family. Enjoying and laughing, having a good time. Being around this whole celebration and looking at it made me feel awkward. 
It made me feel like I was supposed to be with someone, anyone just so that I could pass as someone blending with the crowd. 
I then looked around if there were people like me, alone and enjoying.
Not a lot were there but yes, there were some. 
I realized then, why am I being so bothered about this? I am having fun and enjoying. Isn’t that the point after all? 
Why risk bringing a factor that could cause you to frown and worry? 

The past and the present has made me afraid to bring along a family along with these adventures. My happiness fades away as soon as a dispute occurs. It happens quite commonly. 
Sometimes I think it is me. I think I could be the reason these moments of unhappiness occur. The past and the present are continuously proving so. 
This is why I venture out alone, not that I don’t mind it most of the times, but sometimes when it gets lonely, it is good to have a hand with you. 
I look out to the world and then look at the other people
Is it something that’s wrong with me or am I just different with my approach? 
I wish I had something of that sorts.
This is all I know
This is what I know how to do 
 

I was right after all. I ended up to go on and have a great time being in the celebrations.
It was because there was no one in that present moment who was capable to ruin my happiness and contentment I felt.
For a fact I know that I love to explore by myself and I can do it wherever and whenever.
There is a unique fun that lies in that. 
You are the controller of the day, if you screw up you have no one else to blame but yourself. There is no one to pin point and blame you for the mistakes caused. No sort of remarks to bring you down. 
You get to do what you want and manipulate the day to your likings. 
It is all you and some times it is good. 

I can do fine or maybe good by myself, but not great

As I was getting ready to sleep, this thought popped up into my mind and got me thinking the above. 

I simply cannot understand how only the nights are set out to get these thoughts from me. How is it that the nights are only capable to question the deepest thoughts man mind is afraid to be alone with? How is that in the nights, I have to confront them?  So rather than going to sleep and forgetting about them the next morning, I decided to sit down and write every thought that came to me.

This is what came to me.

I can do fine or maybe good by myself but not great.

You know what makes it great. It is the family, the friends and the world I live in that make it great.

You give me a laptop and good wi-fi connection, I will be alright by myself. You give an apartment, a job with money, I can go out and travel and live by myself without the need for human conatct to bring me joy. I can spend days just being with it but in order for my life to be great, I need my family and my friends.

The world is a companion that I need when I am alone. I need the world so that I can step out and go for many walks. I need the world so that there is something I can go and discover. 

I need them all so that I can still try and live my great life. I need it all to give me the drive I want and still have.

I am an introvert. I like very specific people and can only express who I authentically am just with them. They bring out the me. With different people, I am a different and authentic self. Some of my friends may not see the side I am with the other people I spend my time with.

That is the thing with me. I guess it can be the thing with everyone. I never show the whole 100 percent. I guess I want to hide that part or maybe I just haven’t been comfortable to show it to you. Keeping that part of myself, just to myself makes me happy. A secret only I know.

I can still live good being by myself in this world but still I need my family and best friends to keep the 50 percent human in me. 

I know this sounds selfish, it is all about me, but when you come to think of it, why do we form friendships, why do we love? It is all for ourselves, to make us happy. These people give us happiness and love and that is why we want them in our lives. I like them because I like spending my time with them. Watching them happy makes me happy.

I guess we all are selfish but it is the good kind of selfish. The kind of selfish where we deserve happiness and love for ourselves and the world.

I need them to balance my life.

I need them because I want to shower them with love and I also want to be showered with love.

I need them so that I am aware of life and what is real. 

I need them to know what is right and what is wrong. I need them to keep my moral compass alive and good.

I need them so that I can learn all sorts of things.

I need them for many of the memories I want to make. I need them because I still want to live this life of love and happiness I lead.

I need them because they are there for me and I for them. 

I need these bonds so that I am not alone in this journey of life. 

I need them for me. 

I need them to exist.