Tuesday, April 13, 2010

strange things move you

strange things move you.
i was sitting and doing something I've gotten thoroughly sick of over the past two years, editing. what i started off thinking was trash.
and then i realized that it was far from that. behind the crappy sms language, reams of pages that they DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO SPELL-CHECK, punctuation and spaces in the wrong places, spaces instead of bloody pressing ENTER to reach the next LINE... and the most minute and frustrating shitload of editing (yes, i see that you can tell how annoying it was), i found some beautiful things.
who knew, that a person who I've spoken three words to over the past six (?) years, a science geek who spoke in robotic monotone, could write the most moving poetry? who knew, that the resident bully, had actually cared about people he called his friends, enough for my heart to finally forgive him for slapping me in front of the entire class in seventh grade? who knew that a diminutive little boy who spent fourteen years of his life being the butt of a million short jokes, had enough left in him to put that much of his heart out onto paper?
some people, when they want to, can be shockingly honest.
and that's another thing. writing seems to do it for some people, writing things, and not having to say them, and knowing that there isn't someone judging it immediately at any rate, makes sides of a person come out, that i had no idea existed.
and it feels.. humbling, ridiculous as it sounds. to be editing something someone has put their heart into. for the sake of feeling them smiling as they wrote it, you don't feel like deleting a 'lol'.
and i know I'll feel stupid and frustrated when i get back to it tomorrow.
but right now, i just feel like thinking, about all the people i missed out on. all the people who i made snap judgments about and didn't bother with any more, all the people i could have understood better. all the people who's hearts I've suddenly seen into.
i hardly ever bother with people, who don't show an interest in me first. and suddenly, that feels like the biggest regret I'll leave with. i always scorned the socialites, and convinced myself that all i needed were a few close friends, but now i feel like it was just me being petty, and jealous.
there is this one girl. who's head no one can really get into. she, beyond a doubt, needs a great deal of help. with many, many things.
but suddenly, it hit me, that she has the most relationships. she has the uncanny knack of developing a personal bond with anyone she comes across. and how deep that bond is, how much it means, I'll never know. i have one with her too, from ninth grade. and i always thought i understood her, and pitied her. called her "messed up" and shook my head. but then it hit me, does she care about more people than i do?
there was a silly little quote somewhere in A Passage to India, of no significance, about how emotions are not like a sack of potatoes, that can be weighed out evenly. but you have to weigh them out somewhere, right? so why do i feel like i weighed them out all wrong? i gave too much to the wrong person. too much to the right people too. but i had none left over for the other people. the extra people.
that girl, shes weighed them out wrong too, hers are too thinly spread. but now, i have a sinking feeling that she got closer than i did. in her own twisted way.
regrets are horrible, gnawing things. bitter things.
in a strange way, i regret that no-one will miss me in the same, honest way that so many of those questionnaires put out there just now. yes i know, my friends are different, in their own retarded way. and I've only recently come to realize what an odd thing a "group of friends" is. and how all of these groups are probably as strange on the inside.
i can't put out the same amount of love, if i were to fill a questionnaire. I'm filled with too many thoughts and doubts. and even though i love them all, it's in a very different way, and i know it is for them too. some of them.
but i want to be heartbreakingly honest. and that's the flip side, i know i never will be. there will always be an element of facetiousness in everything i do. trying too hard. and consequently, less real.
i don't despise myself for it anymore, I've grown out of that, and thanks to someone, i feel beautiful on the inside again and all that jazz. I've stopped thinking thaat much.
but not enough? when is it enough? i don't want to become dumb. but are all those grammar-deprived "i love you guysss!!" filled questionnaires dumb? my intellect would say, of course they are. look at you, you're much more meaningful. but you know what, i don't know that anymore.


and you can never see both sides of the coin at once, right? so i guess I'll never really know. maybe that's what God, or Nirvana is, being able to see everything at once. existing on a crazy millionth dimension or something. losing cognitive and social filters, being able to Be on a different level.
sometimes, i want that. just to not have to make decisions that i could regret anymore. twistedly, it might make decisions easier, or a trillion times worse.
i don't like making decisions.
once i shared my very secret decision making strategy with a friend, and he has never since stopped laughing at me for it. and i swore not to leave decisions to something as stupid as the number of letters in a word again. you know, Kirat, it was actually a very smart method. it gave me a 50-50 chance either way. anyway.
so where do i hit that point where i get to decide on those 5 personality factors that Costa and McCrae came up with, hm? when do close my eyes and point to the scale and decide how far along either way i am? if there are so many decisions we have to make in life, why don't we get to set the groundwork for our decisions? somehow, it seems oddly unfair. why cant i go back to when i was six, and decide not to be scared of making friends, and then ten years later be dancing drunk on tables and know everyone in the city?
and another question is, how fair is it to ask me whether i would have done it differently? how the bloody hell do i know? right now I'd say- well, some of it. i survive on mediocrity, living on the fine line that divides both sides. not committing to either.

what was my point? yearbook questionnaires.
they made me think. which i haven't done for a while. i don't know that that's a good thing, this kind of thinking really isn't very good for me. but its nice to regret, sometimes.
if you don't regret things, you never end up justifying your decisions to yourself, and its always healthy to do that once in a while.


  1. Hey! I stopped making fun of it after a week.

  2. no you didn't. and the point is that you should never have made fun of it at all.