Yet another unrelated title. I'm getting really good at this. So uncanny. Anyways, I could leave the picture alone and most of you would infer a million things. Like they say, a picture speaks a thousand words. At some part of everybody's life, loneliness hits you. It hits you hard. Harder than Mike Tyson. Fine, harder than Ivan Drago. It's probably just a phase. All I'm trying to say is we miss out on the wonderfulness of life by complaining about what we don't have. Here I am, Guns N' Roses playing on my headphones. I'm writing this post on my laptop connected to a fairly alive internet connection. Am I actually lonely? Totally. I've found solace in art. I've started appreciating visual art and have been absorbed by music of late. Writing is the shell that is protecting me from the harshness of the outside world. It's a cruel cruel place to be. There's a lot of pressing issues I'd like to talk about. Social message. Social activist. Or rather, a wannabe social activist who's unable to get off his ass. When I'm in my room, laziness engulfs me. I do a lot of crazy things, impervious to what is happening in the outside world. I'm truly lonely. It's probably the phase in one's life where nobody understands what you're going through. You want to talk to somebody and they put exams before you. Hurts. A paper with red ink is more valued than my tattered soul. I don't complain though. I'm used to this. Whether I've gotten better is left for grabs. Anybody looking for an interesting debate topic? Nevertheless, this picture hits me very hard. It's a punch to the gut. Maybe people are around you. Loneliness is still there. That's the worst. It's like this hypothetical dimension where only you exist. You get used to it. Breakdowns and self loathing becomes a daily routine. People call it depression. I call it .... well, who cares? The point is, mental health is serious. It's a serious issue for most people. I've faced it first hand and I'm yet to recover. If you're in this, there's something that kept me going. Just remember that everybody is born for a reason. No matter how terrible life is, it's not worth ending. The world might miss a Mozart, a Jordan, or better yet, YOU! You matter. You're not alone. Maybe this post doesn't make sense to most people. This doesn't make my blog flashy to google ads. Meh, screw ads. The fingers type what the heart cries for. I'm a slave of my emotions. Ah, harsh truth. Nevertheless, this isn't a depressing post. Sometimes, a certain somebody coming up to you and asking if you're fine is all you need. I'm the all dancing, all singing crap of the world. I'm flying solo!
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