Dear Friend 11

Dear Friend,

I am really upset today. In the morning I was annoyed by an intelligent person. I'm not sure, but probably because of his love for certainty. I do respect him, I do think he is a good person, but not a kind person. I'm quite sure he doesn't see me as his friend.

But who sees me as their friend? Who, in a dire situation, would ask for my help? I guess that's the problem of all my moodiness (if you knew who I am, you will think that this is a pun, but it is really how I feel). I don't feel that I'm needed by anyone. That feeling haunts me. It wasn't my decision to be alive, but my parents certainly don't need me. My friends don't need me. You don't need me. No one needs me. I might as well be dead and no one will mourn over my death. Sure, there will be people who will feel sad, but it doesn't matter at all. My life loss is like a loss of a luxury item, it hurts to those who bought it, but its value is overrated and since it is no necessity, it can be simply discarded. This isn't a false analogy.

Why did it affect me so much? Probably because of the realisation that I have wasted most of my life. There were so many challenges that I should have taken up, persevered through and learned from. I wasted all those opportunities, becoming the useless piece of shit I am now, addicted to the vile of consciousness. I want to change, I want to feel motivated. I want to make that leap of faith, that everything will be all right, that the dots will connect in the future. But if my existence matters to no one, and I'm not even referring to my existence to the entire world, then why the hell am I here? Look, there are so many people in the world who are suffering and don't even have to luxury to think about the purpose of their existence, to question whether the nature of morality, the constituents of the world and the supposed mechanisms behind it, and here am I, wasting my life away. 

I am privileged, but I am not needed.

What is my problem? What are the adjustments I have to make? When I asked my teacher a perfectly normal question, just to understand why I loss a couple of marks, and after explaining my reason for drawing arrows that why, I was given the reply that my drawing is horrible and unacceptable, and that I should stop complaining. I was annoyed, but what hurts me the most is that I felt so emotionally sensitive at that moment. I felt hurt (oh maybe that's how the masterchef contestants felt, and I laughed at them for crying and letting their emotions get the better of them). But maybe hurt sounds too serious and drastic as a reaction. I guess I was saddened by the way I was perceived. I am saddened by the way people think I am some emotionless bastard, with evil intentions, and cares who doesn't give a shit about others. I am not like that, but maybe it's my fault too.

The days are ending soon. I am too harsh on people sometimes, but I feel like I have already controlled myself quite well. Alright, from tomorrow onwards, I shall make a conscious effort not to make fun of anyone. I shall not make fun of anyone to gain attention. Please, I don't want any more regrets.

The Psychometric Assessment test concluded that I am emotionally insensitive and low in positive outlook. Many people probably think so too. Why can't anyone feel my sincerity? Oh well, the cliched life goes on. 

Regards,

The Retard.

The One That Got Away

You bump into your ex-lover, who you refer to as the one that got away, what would you do

A dark and rainy day. I was awoken by the tapping of the raindrops on my window. I have always loved rain, in a jungle of concrete, only mother nature brings serenity to a frustrated and lonely mind. 

It has been a year since she left me.  Funny how that is the first thing I think about every morning. I looked at the clock, and the fluorescent green light indicated it was still early. I didn't feel like going back to bed, so I opened the window and felt the calmness of the rain before it was disrupted by the mundane chores of life.

I was looking out of the window and noticed the construction site. It was incredibly noisy yesterday afternoon. The mix of the unappetising red, childish green of the almost torn down stadium and the impersonal yellow of the heavy machinery at the construction site felt unpleasant, but all emotions, including those unpleasant, fade into the melancholy of the early morning.

I wanted to go for a walk. A lonely walk, the kind that makes you feel a never ending melancholic truce. But the place I lived in never gave me such an opportunity. The city was dull with bright artificial colours. I walked towards the commerce area, passing a few pedestrian traffic lights. The traffic light man has a purpose for its existence, but hardly anything could be said about mine.

The spirit of the city was starting to come back. To many, that spirit is the vibrancy and life of the city, but for me it was duller than ever. Mechanical, monotonous, meaningless. 

I looked into her eyes, sadly and sorrowfully. At least, that's how I think I looked at her. Thoughts flashed through my mind, how is she feeling? What should I say? Did she miss me? Should I tell her? But all these thoughts distilled into an impersonal "Hi." The type of greeting you say to your old parents at an old folks home after years of disconnect. She smiled, faintly. 

"How are you?" she asked, smiling, faintly again. Her tone was light and it seemed like she expected a positive/short reply. 

"I'm fine" I said, fidgeting. Nothing felt comfortable, my palms were sweating  

And then I saw her, holding the arm of a tall, handsome fellow, smiling at him radiantly, the kind of smile that made me love her in the first place. 

That was when I knew, that she was living the happiest days of her life, and I was living in my darkest. 

When I returned home it rained again, but this time it sounded of sorrow and meaninglessness. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and hoped that the darkness of the night would consume me and my burdened life.