It’s been a while since I posted without a prompt. Since I posted just to release the stuff going on.
Going on? Where you ask?
I don’t know. Maybe in the world. Maybe in this messed up mind of mine. Or maybe both.
Would it matter?
I wanted to come back earlier. I have that photo and poem challenges that I’ve been just pushing away telling myself that I’d just do it later.
But I don’t really know if that’s the actual reason.
And when did only one reason add to the things we choose to do. If that was the case, humans would never be this complicated.
Would it matter?
Would anyone really care?
Like seriously, why would anyone care if I wrote these words? And why would they care if I didn’t write them?
Maybe you’d try to tell me about the amazing-ness about words and their power. But I’m aware of that. I’m aware of how words change, not just the whole idea and perspective concerning a certain thing but also the way you’d be looking at it from now on. And that’s a huge difference sometimes.
Let’s take an example of what I’m trying to say:
I’d been to document verification yesterday. Had to get there around 9AM, an hour early from the reporting time. And guess when I came back home? 3PM. Nightmare you ask? I say, worse than that.
I have always hated crowds. I could take heights and vast endless depths of darkness any day if you just give me a prior hint that I have an option against the crowds.
And that centre just had so many people, no place to sit for hours and endless announcements. And add suffocation to the list.
Yeah, I can almost hear you say it.
“How can you hate crowds?? You get to see so many people, going through their so different lives that you probably couldn’t even imagine it in your head. Can you think of all the number of interesting stories hovering around you?”
“I guess, I’m more concerned about my story being lost in this rush.”
I’ll admit, I’m not your everyday Hazel Grace from The Fault in our Stars, who hates to leave a mark which she fears will turn into a scar in time.
They say that it’s easier for people to accept their death than the fact that no one would remember them in a hundred years. Hazel was a fictional exception. I’m not.
Coming back to what I was saying earlier, I’m aware of the power of words. And I’m also aware of their effect. My concern however, if I put it in words now- wouldn’t reach you the way it might have reached, when I gave that example. Or maybe my perspective might change yours that you got from the example. And I wouldn’t want that. Maybe this whole post wasn’t about what I’m trying to say in the first place. Maybe it’s about how an example could bring about different perspectives in people. You’ll never know.