What Bliss?

A wise person once told me that some people find that slightest bit of happy by simply not caring. 'Why should you let the thoughts of others define who you ought to be? At some point in time we all have to stop to care, and deal with ourselves before dealing with others. We have this right to be selfish at times, and only for the good reasons. We shouldn't allow others to govern over our every action - heck, by even pleasing them you're doing yourself an unnecessary and cowardly favour. You aren't bold enough to express who you really are, and one day you might just explode from this shield of fragile material. So just don't care. Even if you do, care for yourself and for the people around you whom you care about. Life is too short to be wasted by pleasing people and getting trampled over. Tell yourself you're worthy of making opinions, speaking out, loving life and being happy. Just don't care; whatever they say.'

I still find it hard believe how after 10 months of building a line of familiarity, I still stumble and lose some form of thought whenever I come across cold fronts. It's supposed to be something I should already get used to, but it never fails to tease me everytime I unexpectedly come to it. I've spent days and nights processing the same questions through my head, asking myself how I could so easily allow myself to fall into this ditch full of insignificant lies and pretense. That how, by some form of absurdity, the only time I get to be myself is when I shy away from everything and everyone. And how when I'm quiet, I'm actually yelling on the inside.

There is something lacking in this place, and that is sincerity. Granted, we all try our damn best to put up the 'coolest' exterior we possibly can, hoping that it would last until at least we retire in our private rooms, to our personal spaces. There is a mould we all want to fit into, and for some people, they're naturally sculpted to perfection so that there is nothing they need to change about themselves to being presented out there before the public crowd. Whilst some other folks genuinely think they require that extra bit of effort to forcefully squeeze themselves in, hoping to be identified as the same category of the already perfect group of people.

So what is this all about, then? We all focus on this narrow spectrum of expectations. Some of us might assume that by conforming to the 'mould' of the majority, it makes us accepted, it makes us think positively that we would have all the goods to be counted in as one of them. And as a result, some of us change. We change so much that heck, we know it, but we don't realize how big an impact it would affect ourselves and the people around us. And by that, the more we try to fit in and cling onto what used to be an unappealing sight, it looks now as if our whole life would depend on that particular mould; because if we lose our 'shape', we're either eliminated or thrown away.

At times like these, everything seems impossible to be perfect. Everything seems out of reach and everything seems unhappy. The trials, the distances, the disappointments and the hurt. They all blend and mix together to form a concoction of a recipe made of angst. There are many more adjectives that I would like to spew out in view of all these bitter and battered up thoughts going through my throbbing head, but I'm done for the moment. And I don't know if that same wise person did remind me that by not caring, we also seem to lose a little bit of happy. I've lost many things and people now, and it seems that the more I shut myself out from the emotional chaos, the more unsure I become.

I'm so tired of being surrounded by actors and actresses.