I feel like something in me has broken. Everything going wrong in the world has always been covered with some trivial over repeated crap like celebrity media and materialistic wants. There has been too many dreams dying. Too much of crap stuffed into people until they break and they can't recognize themselves anymore. They'll learn to identity themselves with the material worth they own. Sometimes it makes me want to say-fuck it! Why should I want to save all these people? Why am I the bitch with open eyes, stitched with patterns of pain and a sky of hope seated in my mind?
But I know there aren't many who'd want to stick their head out there. Who'd want to risk being called different because in the society we live in being different is a bad thing, something to be packaged and thrown away because it is harder to swallow one truth than being over brimmed with lies.
Doesn't it implant a dreary pool of desperation, sadness clinging to your edges when you look into the face of the deprived? Doesn't it make you want scratch and burn yourself till you can come up to their level and feel their loneliness flickering in you?
This is me. And I'm not going to change who I am for anybody. I used to though couple of years ago. I wanted to fit in, wanted to have connection with people. People who I only later realised had tiny hearts to fill with trivial things. I used to try to dress like them, copy what they were doing and be their bitch. I had lost myself then. Maybe it was the writing that saved me, I don't know.
Yeah. I hate to be the one who has to say it but we've lost ourselves. You'll know if you've given yourself away when you find yourself pining for an electronic gadget or some fucking dress that costs ten times more than the salary of the workers who made it.
You can pretend all you want. You can close your eyes to the millions who live in poverty. Poverty must be such an overused term in your head by now that your mind has learnt how to skip gently over it. Reminds me of the way people will flip their channels from the dying children with jutting ribs and hollow eyes to the 'more interesting news' of a celebrity scandal. What makes celebrities so interesting anyway? What gives you the right to laugh at them? Sure, some of them are down right spoilt, teeming with money and bank accounts and they only want more. but other than that, aren't they humans too? Aren't they breakable too, prone to mistakes and other mishaps?
Oh please. Don't gimme that look like you aren't like them? That you won't pick yourself if you had to choose between helping yourself or helping others.
We've all become hypocrites really.
Sure, you can fight the world if you're anything like me. If you want to see a change but that won't be easy I assure you. People laugh at me ever single day. People only stamp me as wierdo and other unimaginative words they find in their vocabs. But to hell with them.