Lately i have been forced to ask myself a certain question. Not once, not twice, but over and over again. And this particular question makes me question all of my life. It makes me go back to all the times I ever spent with my near and dear ones. It makes me question my principles and my very existence.
Tell me honestly, you who know me so well. Tell me the truth even if it hurts and even if it makes me wanna shrivel and die or in the least cower up and hide, even if it makes me cry.
Tell me today the truth. Am I really that mean that it shocks people around me? That it makes people believe me that I am wicked and that I have no sensitivity when it comes to other people’s feelings? Am I really mean?
Tell me, was I as mean to you to? Do I go so far in my frankness that I not only insult but also hurt the person standing in front of me, even if that person means the world to me? Or is it just that I am so much at ease with you that I feel that no matter what I say to you, it couldn’t possibly hurt? But then again, isn’t that what friendship mean? Being able to speak your mind? Being at ease and being able to say it out loud!
So today I ask you once again, have I hurt you. If so, I honestly ask you to forgive me. Because that was far from being my intention. I just thought that the very fact that you let me in your intimate circle somehow gave me the right to be who I am and that you accepted me for who I was and that you wouldn’t change me for anything in the world. I tell you this in all sincerity because I want you to understand that I am not mean. I have never been so and nor do I intend to be.
Then again I ask myself, is it because of the different worlds we were brought up in? The different values that surrounded us, the different societies that we lived in? It would be easier for me to say that it’s the differences in us that make it so difficult for us to understand each other, it would be so much easier for me to simply blame our different upbringing. But then again, you are not the first person to say such a thing. But then again, the people who have said this didn’t really know me, thus making it easier for me to blame it on the fact that people are just ignorant to not know the real me. But is this what I am really looking for? To put the blame on something so as not to think about it anymore? Cos no matter what I do, the question is going to come back to nag me another day when I am at ease and I let down my guard to be myself. But then again, at times there have even been people who know me in and out who have said this. Does this mean that I am just too stubborn to accept the fact that maybe I am really mean? Does this mean that I am just too plain old stubborn to realise what effect my words or my actions have on the people who surround me? But this doesn’t help me because if I have to measure and weigh every word that I utter, I no longer am myself.
Do I have to continually pretend to be something I am not, I never was? Honestly, I don’t like being a stranger to myself. I feel like I am trapped in someone else’s body and it isn’t such a good feeling. I feel lost, and so. Am I just a case of misunderstood or am I so vain so as to believe that me and only me can ever be right?
I get the feeling that I am trying to impose myself, no check that, that I am imposing myself and my ideas on other people. But that isn’t me. I have never liked to impose myself. But I still get the feeling that suddenly I am not welcome anywhere anymore, that I am suddenly an outcast, that all of a sudden I from being THE Prutha to being just prutha with a small p. Insignificant and without consequence. Maybe I am just being too paranoid about all this, but this has never been me. I never was like this, I never was what people make of me today. And what is scarier is that it is the very people I gave my heart and soul to, the very people I trusted with my life.
Oh god, I am driving myself insane. And me being me, and you know what I mean, I keep turning this question in my head over and over again till it torments me just the way I want to. I must warn you that I have the tendency to make a mountain of a rat hole when I am hurt. And that is precisely what I am doing right this moment. And after a certain point, I actually begin to believe myself. Genius, aren’t I? I could put Einstein to shame.
Flash news: song playing right now – Norah Jones – heart of mine. Somehow the song that seems to provide me a temporary solace with temporary answers to my question. That I just keep my bright opinions and thoughts and especially my feelings to myself and everything will be fine.
Somehow I have a feeling that if I just pretend to be someone what the world wants me to be, I could stay out of so much trouble. For this I’d have to kill the real me and replace her with a little talking-mechanical me. Interesting thought! Basically I just need to shut up, my mouth and my head. Yaay! That’s the answer to all my questions. Shut up bitch!
PS: Music has always been my little ray of sunshine. Actually my only ray of sunshine. It has been the only thing that ever made my migraines go away. Yes I have chronic migraines that at times give me the feeling that I have a brain tumour. At times I wish I did. Okay, I need to tell myself not to think of such things. They just get me depressive. But yes, music has always been there for me. Happy times and sad ones alike. Always there with the answers I need, I am looking for or just the words I need to hear just for the sake of it, even if they aren’t the right ones.
So that’s what I am going to do. Get myself a nice hot chocolate, put on my music and empty my head of all of this. Shut up bitch!!
