Well! what to say about the mess of life that messes around me, around everyone like bloody hell. I try as everyone does to be out of it, to stray from this thing called mess but it follows us like shadows. Perhaps, this mess thing is ju st another disgusting part of our so called enigmatic life, well, if not others, at least my is. I hate the best-est part of life, trying to be satiric, sadness, disappointment, stupid problems, pressure and the thing called mess. I know I don’t make a big amount of difference here than others in terms of hating the sad side of life, But everyone does make a whole amount of difference in ma king the sad part of their own life. Its just a matter of my choice, every one’s choice. In many points I myself being a insane per son, try to trace out mess from my life and try myself to make that mess into the order which I always try. But I want to feel messy until and unless I cause it and I create it for myself. And I hate this another part of life where you yourself do not cause or create mess for yourself but some other unimportant jerks does the ceremony for you. Or sometimes in mathematical terms, reciprocal to that you tend to be that unimportant jerk, and that’s the irony of life or whatever anyone may call it. I have been properly, civilized and socialized, in terms of the bloody culture, but whats with the culture that only torments you and only tells you to do that other want and wish. That way you turn out to be just a marionette, only played by the others wish to make you play. I hate to be that, and everyone does.
And I realize again, I hate to be a marionette, but I am the one. Played by others. working on others wish. And then full stop. Nothing can be forwarded and done. I am and feel happy when those others are the people I love, respect,admire and adore. But again I realize they don’ t try to marionette me, its just the people who are envy of you and are sympathetic only not empathetical. At this point I again realize that these envious people are my own people, people of my own blood, people with my identity , people to whom I chose to be born with and live this non charismatic life and people whom I thought I would love and respect but as I caught my senses, as I knew things better, as I could see the fake smile in their faces, as I could view the selfish motifs of their love, And mostly as I realize that the reason I am writing such a ridiculous thing, is only them, the people of my own blood, I resume to hate them not because they are selfish but they are so unselfish enough to interrupt in my life, my problems, my dreams, my decisions and my relations. Their interruptions cause mess in my life, now I am beginning to feel that their presence is even more messy than their cause. I tend to move away from them, run away from them which would help me to stray from mess too, but I fail, in each and every step I fail, why? And I hate the part where I know the answer to this question why I fail to run away from those unwanted people and mess? Simply, because I hate this reason, simply because I am one of them.
Well! I don’t cause and create mess in my life, but the irony is I do for others as other do for me! Unselfish enough to bestow mess to others for the selfish reason to be secure and happy. At this point, security and happiness seem such cruel faces to me, for which I am living and existing till now, even with my disregards and my messy prospects of Life!