What makes me write????
The here's the answer... No, I ain't a writer by myself, nor this thing came into me as an heredity... I'm a die heart reader and I rarely do write and unfortunately both my parents are non readers... But yes, I can surely let you know what makes me write....
It's the pain... Everyone has a story, I too do...
This is about the worst thing happened to me in the most beautiful way possible..It all too started in the most weirdest way possible... I've always heard People say many struggle for sleep every night... It took me some time to realise it but I've eventually started feeling the same... May be I was disturbed and this sleeplessness disturbed me even more Suffering through sleeplessness was beginning to this all...I stayed awake when the whole world slept... After listening to everyone around me, I wanted to be heard...
And those nights, unfortunately I had no-one who'd hear me, except for the empty rooms and darkness... But wait, even at that pleasent state, I was listening to someone! Those cicadas... May be they too had no-one to listen to them.... They too got me!
Ever had a feeling of craving for mental peace and ended up with more noise in your head? Frustrating, isn't it?
Me being unknown of everything knew only one thing... I wanted to be heard, that's it! Nothing else... I had no-one to whom I'd open up... I found I was changing... I found I was staying irritated all day, staying awake all night, crying for hours, begging god to send someone who'd listen to me... Listen to my pain... Eventually I realised I was talking to myself... I felt relieved but I stayed same... Frustrated all day! But talking to myself definately helped... No matter crying, but at least I could sleep at nights...
I was suffering through pain... Immense pain! Pain of not being heard. Pain of not getting the respect I deserve. Pain of not getting the love o crave for. Pain of loneliness. Pain of not being able to open up. Pain of not being understood. Pain. Pain. Pain! I've started staying in prison for fear with the bars of hopelessness... I was mentally broken, mentally harrassed. Yes, I was depressed! But who cares? And who would Darr share this thing of depression to someone knowing they're going to be named as mental... Specially when my own parents replied asking to stop my drama of being depressed and what did they didn't do for me! And so, the fire which sparked being lonely kept burning inside me, making me hate everyone and hating myself even more....
In those days, when it came to find happiness, I would find happiness equal to cluster of starts, but the galaxy if pain would always over-rule my cluster of happiness... So I started neglecting whole world and enjoy my own company...
Oh wait... It isn't over here... One could easily escape from whole world but how could one escape from own thoughts? I was Wriggled! And suddenly, one often day, I found myself scribbled something... Oh! It was my pain flowing down through ink in the form of words... Oh yes, I was writing... The pain made me write... The fire burning inside me made me write just to make myself feel relieved...
Everything changes with time... I too changed from me to accepting myself as scribbled wriggled!
It's just the pain....
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And the most dissapoiting thing is that not even our closest one wants to hear our hidden secrets.