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A 18 year old who loves to write about human psychology, savage world movies, philosophy, music and life in general. Also an artist.


Before you go ahead, please heed the advice I give. This thought journey is not just a mere introspection of mine because I have nothing else to do with my time other than sitting and thinking which, I must confess is often the case, but it is also written with the hope that it offers comfort and understanding to all of you who feel that life has taken you for a royal ride, and you are but an insignificant pawn in the immense magnificence of an intricate story. A story that cares not for the little stories within it that are sad to hear, and whose endings are sadder. A story that reminds you again and again how fleeting and useless your life is in the eternal folds of time. A story that might even seem to defy love and the faith born of love. Because however old, however lost, however astray and twisted you may be today, deep within, you will not deny that as a child, you believed in the same fairytales, in the same truth, in the same faith as I did, that love could spin the universe on the tip of it's little finger...and when that faith is destroyed, so are you. In every sense.

So here I am trying to help you save that belief. The truth will stay the truth. It is sempiternal. You and I cannot change it. You and I may never even know it. All we can do is change the way we see things and decide how to use the time given to us. And though it isn't the truth, though it is as much an illusion as the pain you are running away from, it will serve it's purpose. For survival. A graceful survival; devoid of bitterness and regret, for that's all that life expects from us.

Do you ever feel that you are trapped, in the reputation you've created, trapped by societal bigotry, dictated by an individuals thoughtless denial? Do you ever feel that you are becoming a demon in your cage? Do you ever feel that life has taken so many loved ones away from you and life forgot to take you away? Do you feel that mad anger?

Do you ever feel that you have given away too much of yourself to somebody, so much that it's gone beyond your control and you cannot pull it all back again into you? And now you are the tail of a comet, of a star that cannot get away from your pining, that you cannot and will not abandon, even though it's heart belongs to another star flying across the universe to be with it. And if it's not the pining and need that burns your heart, it is the plea you see in your star that devours you inside, telling you it wants to be free of you, but an angel like it hates to hurt. Face it; your pain is your burden alone. There never is a right to complain of the injustice of the universe. For if you talk of justice, then there will always be someone who has suffered more, who deserves better. And remember, no one gets what he doesn't deserve. The moment you ask back, the love is tainted. Diminished. It fails to remain unconditional. In fact, it fails to remain love. And the request is then undeserving. Such is the paradox of love.

When your world turns dark, when the nightmares of the road behind you haunt your waking hours, when there is no hope and light on the road ahead, for you know that you have wrought your own destiny in darkness, when bitter solitude and old age is all that awaits you, when you have accepted and made peace with your hell and yet you shudder to meet it everyday, remember this in those terribly dark and lonely hours. That you are not alone. You are never alone. There is always someone who will understand, someone as lonely and broken as you are, the quiet people, who smile because they are helpless in the face of fate. And though you have never met them, though I have never met them, we share the same channel of pain. And the labyrinth of love and understanding born of this pain is the counter force for all the happiness and ignorant joy that we couldn't bear to see and at the same time loved it for existing. For the world is beautiful because of balance. No one on the other side will know the value of happiness as much as someone who has been denied it. And yet they are bestowed with it while we are not. Paradox after paradox.

Just know, that you are part of that wondrous story, beautiful, balanced and complete. A story whose perfection lies in it's imperfections. In it's so called injustice, imbalance and cruelty. Have you ever thought about it? When you write a book, you only think of how the story should turn out. Sometimes sad and terrible things happen to your characters, and some characters have all the luck. Who would think they had a life of their own. Tell me. All that matters is that the story should end well and some people get to live happily ever after, while some do not. It's like that always. And since there is no choice of escape from this brobdingnagian story book called life, you have to accept the fate of the character you play in the story. You can curse, weep, go mad and destroy, commit harakiri and quit it the shameful way. And you will still be a character of the book. And the story would still go on as it were meant to and that includes the repercussions your choice too. Or you could thank your stars that you do not know the story and however hard your part is, you will grace it. To the bitter end. Clear your mind today. That is the only choice we ever had, dear one. And you know what to do. You already do. You always did. But wherever you are, wether you're in jail, or at work, or about to go to the gallows, or about to jump of a building, or sitting a bedroom like me, there is always another loner right round the corner waiting for your comfort. Always....

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