Risk of thoughts

Simple, the word, how much ever I use it my life it becomes more complicated. Friends, the more there are, the lonelier I feel. Studies, the more I learn, the more I question my abilities. Rains, the more it falls the more it is critiqued. Love, the less I care the more it hurts…
Why is it that way, that when you plan to mend the plumbing you find more leaks? Or when you plan to stop the bleeding the more the cotton goes red.

Why can’t I say it straight? I claim to be the bluntest person. Well if not on the entire planet than at least in the closest five mile radius. When I go to express my feelings I can only spin riddles.

If one is being led, he cringes for freedom to express himself. And when he gets it he just wants to throw the ring back at you and say lead. Well at least that is me.

Can I stop fretting about the numerous things I can’t digest. Can I stop fretting about how I can’t change people? No not really. From counsellors to psychiatrist (read aunts to friends) all have warned me about caring too much. Is it possible to ignore that one human quality that I understand the most? Why is care now considered to be interference?

Care, this four letter word- why is so difficult to find. How can an entire human race that is built on the fundamentals of care and love, want to criticise those who are truthfully concerned.

Well may be not the entire human race. Some are busy pampering themselves; they don’t realise that the one next to them is lost in silence of gloom.

When did this happen? How come things became so complicated? When did a simple thing such as the best way to do something right is subjected to ones perspective?

These questions of mine might seem like babble but for me they are the questions which I pen down and then forget; only to be written again.

Have you ever felt like transforming into that character in that television soap or a movie just because they have a good family or great friends or even because they are thinner than you?

Don’t get me wrong I love my life and definitely would not trade it for anyone else’s even though I crib at times about my (so called) sorrows (I hate this word- makes me sound like a drama queen; for that matter anyone.) I have worked too hard on my life to give up now when things have begun to fall into place.

If I sit to write, my never ending thoughts will flow out my brain and heart and flood the document. These thoughts are not something new that I have discovered. You may have felt the same. I write it down not because I am bored but because I like to let go of these thoughts hidden in the dark chambers. The only difference would be my choice of words or language.

These are not the words of someone on the verge of suicide. That is just not my style. Neither of someone eternally depressed. Anyone who knows me will be able to vouch for that. They are just thought bubbles waiting to scream till their lungs hurt.

I am happy. (I am telling this to myself more than you.) I have travelled to different places, met different people and have had a lot of great vegetarian food.

I write this because I am on a quest for simplicity (don’t confuse it with normalcy- another word I hate). The moment I find it, I will write another billion words to explain how I did. But till then confusion and queries is all I have.