As the title suggests, I’m in that phase where everything seems to have met at the most complicated network of crossroads I’ve ever experienced. More like a bad traffic jam flowing to and from every direction hitting a dead end at every angle.
This post however, isn’t about me. The only reason why I can laugh at my jobless and penniless state is because of the fact that I see people around me, everyday, who have their lives far worse than mine; especially my poor mother who has to put up with me and two other brothers who are coming of age, still grappling with the inner workings of the world.
These people I speak of, whether they are going through emotional, financial, or physical trauma, they evoke a unique mix of sympathy and sadism from within. I look at their crappy lives and I think, you sad losers who can’t get over your troubles and see logic staring at you in the face (not that I’m any better). I hope your days clear up, paving the way for a brighter, happier future. Maybe it’s just me but I think many of us deep inside sometimes insult yet at the same time, wish the best for these people.
This post is in fact, for some of the people I know. Each with their own sets of problems. That someone I know who’s probably suffering. That someone who was forced into vice due to unfulfilled social and emotional needs. That someone who had to endure a day’s, week’s, month’s, lifetime’s worth of shit and have been strong and held their heads up high to keep going on because there just wasn’t any other choice. Only to find that at any given moment, something as minor as forgetting to turn on the water heater before you take a shower becomes the one thing that ruins one’s whole perception of reality, and reduces one to a sobbing mess. It could even be emotional intensity that once tugged on the proverbial heartstrings and finally, yanking them right off. Turning them into something so disgustingly intangible, no one could understand how the mess came to be. Only you would.
I can’t claim to know your lives because I really don’t. I see or hear about you crying. I’ve seen you scream in self-imposed silence. I sensed your anger when you lash out in a voice that nobody hears. And those of you who just bottle everything in, your smile becomes a permanent scar, bearing testament to the overwhelming pain that’s been slicing through your face. The defence you put up when one asks about your well-being is laughably transparent. I can’t always tell who does what and I’m sometimes glad I don’t. All I’ve had to endure is probably comparatively miniscule and I probably wouldn’t be able to take it if I even had an idea of what you were going through.
So, to the downtrodden and the emotionally crippled, the working professional who is compensated instead of rewarded, the arches and their angels forever lost to each other, the faces I knew so well who now belong in the underworld, those of you who came to me for help, I wish I knew what to say. The ones who never did, I wish for the same so when and if you actually came to me, I’d be of some use. Hopefully, you’d get over it and build a future the way you want it to be.
If I laugh at your problems and joke in the vain attempt to ease your suffering, it is only because your pain has also sliced a bloody smile on me. Do not however for a moment, think that you’ve become a burden. Know that when this happens, you will always be in my thoughts and thus you and I will never be alone.
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