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How do people motivate themselves to live everyday?
'Cause everyday I wake up, I realize that I am still existing and have to live through it.
Feels like I am barely surviving coz the journey is tiresome.
As if I am stuck inside a never ending loop.
As if I am waking up to the same day, doing same activities and facing the same difficulties.
And repeat.
How does someone feel bored, tired and restless everyday?
How does someone feel the same kind of boredom, tiredness and restlessness everyday?
How does someone accept their already doomed life gradually?
Do we really have no options left other than accepting the doomed reality?
Can we not make it better?
How does one even make it better?
'Cause it seems like the people around me have already accepted the gloomy realm they are in.
Do people not overthink this?
Or they unconsciously believe in Ignorance being Bliss?
How do people avoid these raw emotions when they sit idle?
How do people handle these emotions when they have sleepless nights?
I don't know if there are people who feels likewise as me.
If there are-
How do they live through these same never ending emotions and same activities everyday?
How do people motivate themselves to live everyday?
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Saw this on Instagram.
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Stuck somewhere between,
A teenager who wants to show off to the adults how capable she is of doing everything by her own without any help. Who wants everyone to know how mature and grown up she is for her age.
And an adult who wants the attention she didn't get when she was busy proving her worth in her teens. Who loves to be taken care of and to be treated softly. Who wants help yet can't reach out to anyone coz apparently to everyone she is a,
23 year old 'adult'.
("She is old enough to handle herself").
("She is not old enough to know what she's doing ")
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It's scary how everything about me revolves around you.
It's crazy how I dedicate,
Every love songs I love;
Every love poems I read or write;
Every paintings that I see or create;
And
Every romantic emotions that I feel,
To you.
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Got so familiar with being-
Tired;
Exhausted;
Stressed;
Depressed;
Anxious;
Lonely;
Unloved;
Disappointed;
Upset;
Scared;
Judged;
Insecure;
Hopeless;
Lusted over;
Bored;
Sleep deprived;
Wronged;
Doubted;
Cornered;
Overkooked,
And last but not the least,
Taken for granted,
That any change (which rarely happens) in this vicious cycle of negativity in my life, gives me panic attacks.
I fear this short-lived positive change that will eventually turn into another life lesson for my character development purpose.
I hate being in misery but somehow misery always gets a hold of me. It's stronger than my need to feel cheerful.
I don't remember when was the last time I was actually-
Excited;
Happy;
Enthusiastic and
Cheerful.
I don't remember when was the last time i felt,
Free.
Do I think responsibilities are burden? Absolutely not.
But do I feel like taking a break to actually breathe to feel refreshed despite all the negativitiy I face in my life? Always.
But I guess not everyone is eligible to have the things they want. And I am one of them.
I am somewhere in between pessimism and optimism.
I am somewhere in between being careful and being careless.
I am somewhere in between holding on and letting go.
I don't know where I am leading anymore, just quietly going with the flow.
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More drawings.
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Celebrity drawings (mainly BTS coz i love em). I will come up with more celebrity drawings in future.
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Kinda wanted to post my artworks here too..
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One thing that I have learnt in this life is, if they ask you 'are you okay?' , they just wanna hear 'Yeah, I am fine' coz they don't wanna put up with your problems when they have a lots in their plate. Everyone is just busy while putting up a facade of decency or courtesy. Even the person who cares for you the most, really wanna hear you doing 'okay' and you, who knows it's this one fella who ACTUALLY cares for you, will put up a facade of doing great.
People don't like it when you complain, they call it whinning or childish. Their interest only picks up once you come up with a solution. Not to mention, how people even start comparing your hurdles with theirs to prove their life have more difficulties.
No matter how much you spread mental health awareness around the globe; no mater how much technologically advanced we got over time; no matter how much successful we are, people, in general, are still stuck sometime around the medieval age or a time period more older and historic coz even the younger generations are influenced by the appearance of being strong and fearless, stoic personality wise and emotionally tough. Boys call it 'Sigma' in Gen Z language (lol).
A woman talking bout her strength and weaknesses or about her failed relationships or about her abusive family or emotionally unavailable partners or family members is considered weak or 'complain'. Talking about rape and its victims and spreading awareness among women, are criticized.
Shit's so messed up that a man being emotionally or physically weak is called 'gay' or 'feminine'. People can't comprehend the fact that each and every class of people, has both strong and weak individuals within em. That's just how our ecosystem was made and has nothing to do with GenZ terms like 'Alpha, Sigma, Beta, Gama and Omega' shits.
My dad once said "everyone, even your family members, blame you for your downfall. It doesn't matter if others have part in your bad luck coz suddenly words like 'responsibility' and 'accountability' disappear from their dictionary. Everyone will turn their back to you when they see you are not doing okay. Everyone is selfish and won't ever wanna hear your side of the story coz the truth is often hard to digest".
No matter how much emotionally drained, physically assaulted, financially overdraft and practically fucked up you are, when people ask "are you okay?", the only justified reply to that question will be - "oh, yes I am OKAY (even though you're in the brink of death)"- coz the answer is in the question itself.
The world is just a stage where people are asked to act 'okay' coz, not being okay is something you gotta deal with and not anyone else. Yeah, that's how life is.
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When the devil can't reach out to me so he uses external forces to play with my patience, mess with my peace and ruin my sources of happiness.
All for me to fall for his tactics and give into him. The devil must like me too much to spend years and years behind me.
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Kinda cooked coz I finally found myself relating to these songs.
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Sometimes it feels like things are better if I create a space with my loved ones.
We tend to miss each other more and the by the time we close the gap to get rid of the space, we can love each other more.
With my personality, I know that I am ready fight a battle for them if things ever reach that stage. And I know for sure that they can do the same for me.
But being close to one another for the longest time, under the same roof, as cozy and comfortable as it sounds, also have it's cons.
I can notice every little details; every negative behaviors; every minor to major flaws - in short all the wrongdoings. And we all know that the power of negativity always overpowers positivity.
The more we live closer, the more we take each other for granted. The love remains but the laughter gradually dies and they change to disputes, arguments and quarrels.
Sometimes I wanna sort them by sitting and talking things out with them. The other times I scream out loud to prove my point. And them behaving the same as me doesn't help much either. As if everyone of us are trying win a match against one another. A match that leads to nothing but sadness, distress, anxiety and depression.
I wish we could just keep on loving one another instead of ruining the mood with these stupid fights and cold wars.
Why can't we just sort things out?
Why do we have to complicate things when things dont go in our ways.
Why silence or separation is the only answer to these childish acts?
I wish we could solve things with love and care instead of giving in into our twisted mind games and cause more problems.
Love is not only affection or admiration but also responsibility and adjustments.
But all we wanna see how merry love is and turn blind eye to it's gloomy side.
It gets more noticeable when we cling to one another.
The reality disappoints us. Frustration hits. And that's when the fight begins. The battle between reality and expectations.
I know that being away from them to create a space sounds more like a route for escape.
But at least I won't be taken for granted and will receive the love not only out of responsibility but also out of longing and affection.
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Used to you.
Dear love,
I am so used to not being with you that the idea of us being together never crosses my mind.
Dear love,
I am so used to your silence that the void doesn't bother me anymore.
Dear love,
I am so used to your absence that a single sight of yours can overwhelm me.
Dear love,
I am so used to searching for you that I find fragments of you, in each and every person I meet.
Dear love,
I am so used to the thought of how perfect you are to me, that I still think that nobody compares to you.
Dear love,
I am so used to wishing for your well being and happiness that I will keep on wishing the same forever, even if your cause of happiness is someone that's not me.
Dear love,
You are an itch that never goes even after scratching it a million number of times. Now, I am so used to the itch that I don't scratch it anymore.
Dear love,
I am so used to loving you that now I don't know whether my hopeless love for you has crossed it's limit or you just have become a habit of mine.
Dear love,
I am so used to you, that at this point, I don't know what to feel for you anymore 'cause I am way past feeling for you.
Dear love,
I feel everything and nothing for you at the same time. I don't know what to call these feelings or how to describe them.
Confusing;
Deluding;
Unsettling;
Unsolved;
Distorted;
Twisted.
Yet, I am so used to them being unsorted that now it feels heavy with emptiness without these never-ending emotions even if they worn me at the end of the day.
Dear love,
You are the forbidden fruit that I shouldn't have known.
You are the drug that I shouldn't have get addicted to.
You are the mistake that I shouldn't have done again.
You are the wrong path I shouldn't have taken.
But alas, I have tasted the fruit even when it was forbidden.
I am a drug addict.
I keep on making the same mistakes repeatedly.
I love taking the wrong path, knowing that it has no ending.
Dear love,
You tire me out. But I am so used to getting tired of you.
I hate you but at the same time I do not 'cause I am so used to never hating on you.
I guess I can never forget you even if I stop loving you;
'Cause, my love, I am just so used to you.
(I wish he knew).
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When you used to think that you both are on the same chapter, only to realize that they have already moved on to the next chapter while you are still stuck onto the same. Yet all you can do is watch em go ahead and wish em a good luck.
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Leaving behind those rusted memories I was holding on to. Memories that feature both good and bad characters.The feelings stayed vivid but their faces are getting vague, gradually fading with time. Memories of those times when I was out of my character and acting otherwise. Till this date, I held on to them 'cause I kept on thinking that both me and the universe owed something to each other.
Moving on 'cause it's time to heal my stubborn and broken inner child.
I need to let go of the void and start loving myself a little bit more than yesterday.
'Cause after all, I am the protagonist of my own story and there's no one else but me for myself.
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It's been a week, since she started coming to this cafe. It's been a week since he started to observe her little by little, that sometimes turned into a detailed observation.
Well, she wasn't special or extraordinary. And she wasn't even pretty. She was quite an average looking brunette girl. Her complexion was tan that always gave out a yellowish hue. And one of the most lovely site was when the sun hit on her face in a certain way, that totally turned her tanned skin golden- something that his pale skin could never relate. He might not admit but sometimes he kept on staring at her unknowingly (that's what he said to himself).
She had cat-like eyes, heavy with dark and long lashes, and dark orbs. He didn't like how she had to cover those pair of beautiful eyes behind those round glasses settled on her cute rounded nose. But as much as he was against that, he knew her eyesight was quite weak by judging the thickness of her lenses.
Her eyebrows were thick. Her hair was long, dark and wavy. Most of the times she tied her hair up in a knot, and he found it amusing to see how most of her hair got out of the knot just to make her look hilariously disheveled. She was annoyingly short and he guessed that she was quite aware of her altitude. Because how could he not? She often tried to shift herself far away from the people who were seemingly taller than her. And he couldn't help but he swore in the name of all the existing Gods in this planet, he noticed how she admiringly drooled at the sight of any tall person, men or women. And the thought flustered him because he was one among those tall individuals.
No, that didn't oil up his man ego, not at all. But damn, he couldn't help but recall how he happened to (deliberately) walk past her and how she reacted immediately by scooting herself away from him. He lowly chuckled at this weird behavior, but instantly got flabbergasted and flustered when he tried looking at her from his peripheral vision. She looked at him with her wide eyes, behind those thick framed glasses. She was not only looking at him, but practically ogling at him, checking him out from head to toe.
He didn't even waste a single second to look back at her, eye to eye. And she, who was totally unprepared for such an exchange with someone she was fangirling over, chocked on her own spit. She started coughing badly for a while. She drank water and after few moments she stopped coughing. Even though her skin was brown, but that was covered with crimson hue and he didn't know whether that's because of her vigorous coughing or because she was caught red handed staring. She got tensed at the embarrassment she thought she caused to herself and looked at her surroundings. She saw a few concerning eyes who were asking if she was okay and rest were just minding their own business. But it seemed like the whole situation made her feel uneasy, so she just packed her things up hurriedly, without looking at anything or most likey at someone. She almost ran towards the counter to make her payment and dashed out of the cafe.
That night, at his house, he was really too stunned to think of anything but her. Her awkward departure made him regret his decision to look back her her, who was just checking him out, undisturbed. But somewhere in his heart, he was happy.
The fact that he was being checked out by his art muse (crush), not only reddened his face (not that he would easily admit) but also flattered him. It made him feel good about himself. He looked at himself through his bathroom mirror after taking a hot shower. He knew he was an above average looking man who's quite handsome and tall. He had been in a few relationships before and his past girlfriends were quite satisfied with his appearance.
So why was he behaving this way when all she did was, admiring him from afar? Why did that make him feel so giddy like a child who came across his first crush?
Whatever he felt for her, was so pure. Not that he considered his feelings as something platonic, never. As much as he liked watching her bite her plumpy lips, he also wondered how would it feel to listen to her voice that comes out of those lips ( he sometimes heard her while she was talking to the cashier).
He found her small hands funny but also wondered how it would feel holding those hands. He liked how adorable she looked within those baggiest clothes she wore most of the times, but also gulped hard when occasionally she wore skinny clothes.
He found out that she loved detective, horror, adventure, thriller or sci-fic novels.
She had a habit of biting her nails. She shook at legs so much that the table started shaking with her at times. She zoned out while reading, then immediately zoned in to catch up with time. She was dangerously obsessed with confectioneries. She hated cappuccino and he knew because he saw how that one time the waiter offered her the Cafe's special cappuccino. She tried rejecting the offer politely but finally gave in 'cause of the kind waiter who was equally polite as her. Later he realized why she was so reluctant to try cappuccino. She disliked it's bitterness and her face turned to disgust after tasting it yet she covered up her distaste with a painful smile so that her honest reaction didn't displease the waiter. After the the waiter left, the frown never left her face. And him, being an observer as he was, couldn't help but let out few chuckles at the silent tragic-comedy that was being played in front of him for the last few minutes. And that didn't go unnoticed by her and that annoyed her more but he didn't know if it was her or his imagination, he saw her smiling a little that she preferred not to show him.
Was that smile for me?
Well, he could only hope. He didn't know when he slept thinking of his muse. He didn't realize how her little attention on him was affecting him. He didn't realize how proud he felt to know those little habits she had got and how much he was getting used to seeing her daily and making her sketches in his sketchbook.
Maybe he did realize, but he was too proud (scared) to admit.
The blank pages got turned into an album that's solely dedicated to her.
His heart got delighted when he saw her through the window, approaching the Cafe, their only spot. It was the golden hour and not only her golden skin but it's herself as a whole, who stood out the most in his eyes in the street full of people.
She entered the cafe, and he noticed how she was scanning the cafe, as if she was searching for something or more like someone. He caught his breath and his heart skipped a bit when she looked at him. She immediately looked away, but approached her common window side seat anyway, just a bench away from his.
He exhaled the breathe he didn't know he was holding, heart pounding at an unhealthy rate. He took out his sketchbook to cover up his flustered state.
And he never looked up coz he was too busy to scratch his sketchbook with his pencils. To busy to draw a certain someone. To busy to think of a certain someone.
She's here! She's here!! She's here!!!
.
.
.
To be continued..
Let Me Paint You, Love?
1. His idea
He was sitting alone at his usual cafe after a long day of his works. Office is hectic. He needed time for himself to ease his mind, to calm down. So again, he entered the cafe that day, ordered his usual cappuccino and two chicken sandwiches (because he was hungry and he could eat a whole bread manufacturing factory).
The cafe was few meters away from his office, across the road. It was homely and peaceful. People always came here to ease their minds after a tiring day. It usually was quiet in there until a group of people murmur among themselves. As if the environment of the cafe had the capability to discipline the most talkative person ever. Not that people would judge because everyone there remained busy with their own hobbies. Some did their pending official works, some read books, some listened to songs with their earphones plugged on, some just came here to eat and enjoy for refreshment. The interior was also not that grand but was cozy enough to make you feel like home. The food, especially the coffee here was really something that would have attracted any customer. The prices were reasonable. All in all, anyone, who once discovers this cafe, will never regret discovering it.
He took out his sketchbook from his side bag along with the pencils that were needed. Yes, he loved to draw. Everytime when he sat idle, he drew. It was his favourite hobby. Although he never admitted that his sketches are fabulous but deep down he always wished if he could be an artist. Not that his parents would be against his wish but it was him who lacked confidence within himself. He was blinded by these thoughts that his sketches were never enough. So he chose to remain silent and keep this passion of his as his only hobby. Did he regret his negligence? Sometimes- scratch that, he always did. But his current job wasn't that bad for his choice and he earned quite good for his living, so that would suffice (well that was his coping mechanism).
He was wondering what to draw. He sketched almost everything that he found, was fascinating to him. Be it the interior of the cafe; it's exterior where it had a flower garden that had a swing in the middle of it; stray dogs that passed by the cafe to check if the kind cafe owner who was a woman in her fifties, was ready with the leftovers. The mothers with the babies, the couples who came for a date; the couples who left after an argument; the road and the traffic- anything that was appealing to him.
But for few days, he was out of ideas. He had been going there for a long time. He discovered this cafe back in his college days and he loved it that very moment. Much to his surprise and delight, he found out that his office building was just a few meters away from this cafe. And ever since then he became the regular customer there. Even the workers and the customers there, grew fond of him and sometimes the workers gave him discounts for him being a permanent customer . Now that he was running out of ideas, he was getting a tad bit frustrated. He was afraid that he might grow out of this cafe because him coming here, was not only to ease his mind but also to fulfill his inner dream.
He closed his eyes while leaning his head against the chair to think of an idea when he heard the sound of the cafe door opening along with the door bell tinkling.
"Hello ma'am, welcome to XYz cafe" said the receptionist with her pleasant voice.
"Hi, I wanna order a chicken burger and a hot chocolate if that's available?" Said a girl with a wavering voice as if she sounded anxious.
He opened his eyes and sat straight to look at the owner of the voice, unconsciously.
"Sure ma'am, please take a seat. This will take a little time."
"Uh-hmm.." said the girl with wide eyes, as if she did a huge achievement by asking for HER meal. Then she entered the cafe, looking for a seat. Easily she got one because the cafe was never too much populated unlike those grand cafes where people practically need to bring their food back home instead of enjoying their time due to the overpopulation.
Although, to him, this cafe was world-class but he felt lucky that it wasn't yet well-known enough.
He saw her sitting in front of her, well, two seats ahead of him but her front was facing him so he could pin point every details of her. She was too much careful with everything she was doing- keeping her bag aside, opening it and taking out a book,
'Hmm, Agatha Christie i see..' he thought.
Then carefully chaining down the bag and facing the table to open the book. She was turning the pages, that too with such delicacy as if she didn't want the pages to make sounds while they were turned.
Almost not looking up at anything or anybody as if she tried her best to avoid human interactions.
She looked weird to him.
Short hair with red highlights. Round specs, that remained covered by her bangs most of the time. Tan skinned, at least that's what her face and her fist said because her rest of the body was hidden under the baggiest clothes he had ever seen or would ever see. She seemed short too and a year or two younger than him maybe ('cause that's how she looked like).
"Ma'am your order". Said the waiter who almost shocked the tiny girl.
"Uhh.. thank you?" She awkwardly took the plate with the most unprepared smile one can ever give.
"Ah hehe. Welcome ma'am." awkwardly said the waiter and walked away.
The tiny girl hesitantly checked her surroundings as if she was reluctant to eat in front of people. Suddenly she looked at him, directly to his eyes!
He almost dropped his pencil for the sudden eye contact which he was never ready for. She immediately turned her gaze away and started swallowing her food . Her cheeks slightly turning red(?).
Well, that didn't go unnoticed by him, but here he was, trying to control his fast accelerating heartbeats.
'Woah, that was sudden!' he thought but suddenly a bulb lighted up. He looked at her again, who was unaware of anything and everything around her. Then he looked back at the empty page of his sketchbook.
"Well, now I have got an idea".
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.
To be continued...
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