I think what I hate the most about egomaniacs is the energy that surrounds them, like when you approach the people that are filled with ego, that aura of- “I know everything and I don’t need your opinion or words even it could be for my benefit but it won’t matter because I don’t want it, you suck” — that sort of aura that I find in these egomaniacs, I think that’s the part I find most repulsive.

I can deal with someone’s attitude and how they respond to things but that energy that they bring or I should say that they exist with. Sometimes you can just look at a person and know that he or she has an immense amount of ego. I don’t know I guess the default or that resting face is what gives it away.

There is quite a broad range of egomaniacs that you will find and all of them are immensely annoying and disgusting to deal with. You may have your own ego maniac that is specifically to be avoided. Let’s break the range and list the different types of egomaniacs:-

Parents (first encounter)

I believe this is the very first encounter of deep, rooted ego that we see but it is only when we are much more mature we actually figure out that oh our parents are full of shit.

It doesn’t matter if you are right, it doesn’t matter if you show them the proof, it doesn’t matter if you try to have a mature conversation with them. Parents generally don’t like being schooled, they have a specific teaching or idea and if anything contradicts that, they are not going to listen to you at all.

And sometimes I do ask myself that where does this ego come from — why is it so disrespecting for them to learn something from their own child just because you’re 30 years or even 40 years older than your own son or daughter, doesn’t mean that you are insignificant. I especially hate this type a lot.

Young (Ruthless ones)

I think this type of ego I found when I entered college (School didn’t really have a lot of egomaniacs, it’s mostly stupidity). But in college it seemed to me I found people that immediately placed themselves on a pedestal and if you’re not on that pedestal in their eyes then you would be ignored or just called plain stupid.

I think what really sucks about this type of egoism is how rude and aggressive it can become, you will encounter people that are going to tell it to you on your face in the most horrible way that you are insignificant, directly or indirectly.

You may also find groups of these people collectively and somehow publicly yet in secret ridicule you further and further.

And the worst way to encounter these type of egomaniacs is when you are being vulnerable and are sharing something deeply emotional and then they reveal their colours of narcissism and you get hurt pretty bad and realise that “oh my God I need to stay away from this person”

Aunties (found near your home)

I’m putting this in a special category and not in the old category of egomaniacs because aunties are in their own separate dimensions.

These so called adult women will pass remarks of how idiotic and wrong you are in the most sarcastic way possible and I cannot tell you how much I fucking hate it. It’s like every cell of my body wants to just get up and tell them to go fuck off, leave me alone I did not ask for your opinion and I think that’s the worst part about these type of egomaniacs is that they give you their opinion via sarcasm.

Uncles

I think the main point that separates Uncles from Aunties is that you find Aunties more on the forefront and Uncles are still there but a little little bit to the back, not quite but still a little bit.

The egos of Uncle prefer to school you by explaining and breaking down each and every single thing regarding what you’re doing wrong, what you should be doing because they have seen the world and that implies that they have the best knowledge in your interest even if they are unaware of what you are really going through. I believe that they don’t even really know how blatantly disrespecting they are being by making someone feel stupid.

You can try to reply back, you can even try to argue with them, but it’s not gonna work out. They are going to reaffirm their point, give an unrelated example and then circle back on the same thing.

I think the worst thought about all of this is that even though I am segregating so to say these egomaniacs into different age groups, the worst ones are those that are close to you and you don’t even realise how egoistic their behaviour is until it’s too late. It’s like someone you invited has just sneaked behind you all this time and then waited for the very right moment to cut off your legs and make you small.

Its “Little Monster” here

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There is a bravery, a humble bravery and safety in it, I could say and feel the pain and joy I want in my way and no one would know who the human is behind it, and it feels soothing, it feels safe, I feel safer

I am quite tired today, in just the next month and so forward, I will have new challenges, these problems they scare me, I want to cower down and hide some place dark, and I think then, I’d like to cry, or attempt to, or at least I will wish I can cry

I don’t like speaking to new people because it’s like putting on a show so that someone takes interests in and buy a ticket to stay, I don’t like that, I don’t want to pretend or put up a front anymore, it feels wrong and tiring, I am tired right now

I don’t understand my body enough, I do understand my mind, and it’s drained to a point where I am sad, why is it not easy to speak to whoever you like, it isn’t, realistically it isn’t

I wish I could feel okay, I could feel healthier, fighting every single day is tiresome, to battle and battle and battle and battle and battle and battle, not everyone gets it, they always tell me to do more, everyone become the adult that says results matter, without results your efforts are discarded, you are discarded, I am discarded

They say do it alone… I have….

I am

I do not wish to now

It’s sad

The thing about pain is that enduring and getting past through it, doesn’t end your struggle, there is still work, progress to do, love doesn’t fall in your lap

I’d like that, but it isn’t, I’d like it a lot but it isn’t

I have a dream that one day

“I could cry endlessly in someone’s arms and they won’t let go even though I become insufferable”

That dream now feels like a pipe dream

I am tired btw

I try to relax and I am as I write, I do not think so I’ll be able to

Sometimes I think most of the time I just want people to believe in what I say- if I say it’s hurting- it is

If I say I can’t do it- I can’t

If I say I tried- I can’t no more

I am tired a lot

Sometimes I think people think I am insufferable and exaggerated in every way

I don’t like that

It’s not true, it’s a lie

People believe what they prefer to believe in and not what is to be believed in

Isn’t that cruel?

It is… it is cruel

Its “Little Monster” here

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The Expression

It feels wrong to be okay by myself through myself

I don’t know what’s right

Both of my good and bad sides make points that i understand

But the bottom line doesn’t change

I still am lonely and I am tired and I can’t do anything anymore about anything

When I feel both of my sides

Neither of them feel wrong

I guess I expected people to come and check on me at the end after listening and seeing that I am so disappointed and sad and broken that I wouldn’t need to (neither I could) reach out

I guess the kind of friendship I wanted was this

Just care about me

And don’t leave me by myself believing I will be fine

I did say

I can’t do anything

I am empty

I don’t have anything left to do

I guess I trusted that my words will be taken on face value

I guess I wanted to not feel alone

I guess I wanted people to make me believe again

And just understand how much I have been hurt

The Response

“It’s tough when you feel like people around you might have an idea of what you’re going through, yet they don’t take action to support you. That belief in the good side of you wanting to give them the benefit of the doubt can clash with the reality that you’re feeling hurt and disappointed. You might hope that they’ll reach out, but when they don’t, it only deepens that sense of loneliness.”

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.

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The Begging

____, what do you want?

Someone to come and say

Someone to come and stay

Someone to just not let me leave

Because

I have said enough

I have did enough

I have tried beyond my body and mind allowed me to

Sudden bursts of energy and adrenaline rush

Yeah I am scared that if I ever flow, I will not be treated nicely

Its “Little Monster” here

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Today’s World Suicide Prevention Day

My message to those who need it, don’t like this, don’t share this, just read it slowly

“It’s not okay

You’re suffering, fucking suffocating, maybe even alone and cannot bear the pain

It hurts, it hurts so bad that you can’t bear it

I see it, I hear you, you don’t have to scream to let everyone know you’re in pain

I see you, I hear you, it’s not okay, I understand the pain you carry

My light- if you’re tired, just rest and forget all the chores of the day, let them pile up, I know it’s difficult to ignore the daily life works, but let it be, lay down, forget everything else and lay down, you’re tired no? So let’s lay down and keep laying down on our beds for we feel like it and there’s no need to question that, that’s okay

My light – if you’re in pain, so much pain, I feel sadness for you, not out of pity but because it is just sad, there’s no need to be embarrassed or hesitant about it, let it be, you can be uncomfortable, you can be angry and last out, it’s all okay to do so, if there is a day when you’re cranky and angry to ignore people, do that, you don’t have to be rational when you are so in pain to not being able to do so, it’s okay

My light- drop your fixations on who hurt you and what they did, what’s hurting you and why it did, just feel it, cry it endlessly, don’t hold back saying I cried already a lot, no, cry and stop if you want to stop, let it be, let it flow, for one solitary second, let yourself be, you’re doing and enduring

You don’t have to be perfect, you don’t have to do it now, you don’t have to force it, you only need to be you, you who is beautiful I feel to endure a pain so great that it hurts you, you who is beautiful to feel the hurt, it’s not okay, I am not gonna tell you it is okay, just be, you only need to be”

I feel a certain way, a set of emotions that run into me when she was there, a feeling that my heart beat louder and I feel my skin covering all parts of my flesh. Lungs filling up with air and I felt every inch of cold oxygen going in me. A feeling so rich, I didn’t have a palate deep enough to know all of its flavours, I experienced it in one go, a drug might seem appropriate for a comparison but I am inclined to say — being alive.

I don’t know where I was, what I did, I couldn’t recall how many nights and what were those nights about and how did they turn into days? I couldn’t give you an answer, I couldn’t remember, I only knew the last time I saw her-

a smile wide enough to breach my chest, hair that flowed in the moonlit wind of the winter. I remember thinking of sparkles like a kid, I don’t know why I remember that or why did it occur to me, but I do know it felt beautiful.

I am a different person.. am I? Do I behave differently or do I behave more of myself when she is there? I couldn’t tell, I only knew existence as the way of living among people without hindrance to others. Meals were seen as meals everyday, I never found the joy everyone had when they ate their food, I was plagued by a loneliness that I wasn’t aware of. Why do I feel guilty of it?

I didn’t think of — what I would like? I make do of whatever comes at my way, whatever people throw at me, I didn’t choose, I just make do, it was like grabbing a lifeline in an ocean to grabbing another while always being in the ocean.

I can’t recall it crystal clearly like I can recall my memories with her. All that feels like a dream that went too fast for me to even realise I was in one. I don’t know what a drug feels like but if it is like I have read accounts describing it, a vivid lucid dream-like experience, then call my life where I didn’t meet her — a vivid lucid dream-like experience of a car crash where I was numbed to the bone.

In pain.

In sorrow.

All alone.

What was I before she came? Was I death for myself? Was I on a pill of never ending supplies? Where do I go when she’s not there?

Where do I go when I don’t exist? What do I do? Do you know who I am?

What if I was only born when I saw her? I realised I had a heart eyes mouth hair and hands. My words no longer were left stranded in the journey. They had a destination. They had a desire. They had a life. I was alive.

I was alive.

.

.

.

.

.

.

What am I doing? Where is everyone?

The lights are flickering to turn off, they seem to hurt me by showing a little bit before leaving. It’s dark in here. It’s pitch black, I have never been in pitch black, it’s… it’s scary, I don’t know where’s what, I…I… reach out with both hands in the dark to maybe grab onto something but nothing comes in my hands. These are my hands right? Right? I …I I don’t know I … I can’t see, I can’t see anything. I can’t… I don’t know. The sounds here are weird, I hear myself back but it sounds like I am encapsulated but that means there is a wall, there is an edge? There is an EDGE!

I need to run.

I am running.

I am running.

I am still running.

Where is it? Where is the wall? Where is it? Where is the edge? There is supposed to be? Where where? Where………?

I’m tired… I don’t wanna run now, the voices in here are getting sadder, I think I am holding myself, I can’t see so I don’t know, I do remember being held so I am doing it out of memory, it is scary here, I don’t wanna be like this.

Its “Little Monster” here

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Dependance

I am so tired of loving myself
I am so tired of brushing my own hair
My teeth clunk in anxiety
My skin burns on fire

Rotting

The stretch marks whisper my name in fear
I fall asleep in my own dreams
I have fallen far away from the tree
The wind changes the night so quickly
My eyes turn black in the noisy sun
I have whispered my prayers in my soul
Books turn yellow from my fingers
I have sat too close to the table
Someone said, “ I can only see the back of your head ”
I have heard that monsters live on the hills
But I feel them living among us
Once I saw, a monster in flesh
He was beautiful but broken
I felt familiar from his grunting voice
I have ran far away into the destination
The lights go out when I look back

Begging

They only shine the light on my inability
So sometimes I can’t accept what’s inside of me
I just lose my mind
And hold it right back before insanity

My skin shivers to purple blue
Tears accumulate; accusations in my head assimilate

A scream echoes
Streaming my soul
Let me overflow
Pull me from the edge
Don’t let me go

I’m going away
Far from my myself
I am sleeping away
Knowing I am unable
To move from
From the stabs I got on my soul

Let me let me let me
Cry
Let me let me let me
Cry

Please don’t be scared
I am still human
I am still moving
I am still me you remember

Please don’t forget about me
I am still here for you
I just need some time
To patch my wounds

I am gonna walk
I think I will
Please tell me I will
Please recite my hope
Pray for my sorrows
I can’t beat my heart myself

Please recite my hope
I want you to know
If I ever stop breathing
That I thought of you
As my eyes closed

Please recite my hope
Let me join you too
On the other side
I am forgetting what’s it like

Please recite my hope
I only know
Please recite my hope

Its “Little Monster” here

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I write like a man on fumes, finding every single word as oxygen to breathe enough to write another

Then I go from another to another

It’s a relationship that is so demanding

I am asking for life itself for every single thing I write

I write and I feel good, I feel awesome that is okay this is my art and what a damn good art it is, fucking yes

I am filled to the brim with excitement like Coca-Cola poured to the edge of a glass

It feels amazing

But there is something that irks me, I feel it in me, a longing, I feel a longing, these words I weave have different meanings but no matter what I write, the soul of it longs for a reader, a reader that can feel the blood scratching intensity of my heart

I write damn it

I write every single time not knowing if there ever will come a day when I have a reader that reads the soul I leave

I look around and I find myself so terribly isolated but not by choice but by default, what happens when a person is dropped in a world of misguided passions, suppressed pain and ignorance of love, what happens what the hell happens what in god’s name HAPPENS!!!!

Loneliness…

A stranded FUCKING loneliness

A person that stands and is lonely, that walks and is lonely, who speaks and is lonely, who loves and is lonely, who is loved and is lonely, who gets hurt and is lonely, a Goddamn hurt brews and it fixes inside and every following time, I just smile and welcome the pain that will follow because I’d still rather get hurt then completely remove myself

You could say that my feelings though relevant but actions are misguided but honestly,

I think I am tired at this moment,

I think… I am… I just .. am

Its “Little Monster” here

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Recently, I washed my hair with the same shampoo, the same conditioner but this time… this time I decided to take it slow, take it easy, go nice and slow.

Normally, I am quite fast and even before that, I was rough with my hair, I used to wonder what is the reason for my hair being bad, why was it so rough and didn’t feel soft at all, genuinely not even one bit.

Then as I was taking it nice and slow, I put my hands in my hair and gently washed my hair. After doing the hair routine, I touched and felt my hair softer than ever before.

It felt smoother and softer, reminded me of the bounce of winter clothes after you put the special winter detergent. I don’t remember what its calls but you can remember.

I realised that part of why I had some hair problems was because I treated it so roughly, jamming my fingers in and twirling it all around without for a single solitary second to pause and take it easy.

As I was realising all this, my mind sort of started connecting the dots to different stages of my life, how I treated my hair was how I treated or more accurately- was how I felt about myself.

Before any of this, any divine revelation of self care, I was rough with my hair. I didn’t use conditioner, I applied shampoo and twirled my hair inside and out so bad, on the flip side, I was an extremely anxious and depressed person. I didn’t feel good about my life, myself and had severe body dysmorphia.

I wouldn’t say my entire problem was how I was with myself alone, but a part of it was how I didn’t know the harshness I was subjugating to my soul by my own hands.

It’s strange to recall as how unaware people could be about themselves. Too much noise, too many voice, so much pain that suppresses your own voice and eyes to not hear or see, the pain you cause yourself.

Hence the hypothesis I land on, how you wash your hair is how you are with yourself.

Now, at this point in my life, I am consciously trying to make a change. Just trying to look after myself, feel myself, feel my own emotions and not throw them aside. Especially to make my feelings a burden. I don’t want to discard these feelings that I feel daily.

That’s why my hair washing routine has become slower and gentler. I don’t rush, I don’t pull or twist, take it slow, let it breathe, let the moment in me breathe till it feels okay to move forward.

Sometimes when the pain is overwhelming, you can’t help but put all your efforts and thoughts into minimising it, but in those efforts, we forget to put some of those efforts into ourselves, that’s okay, how can you, you had to put all your energy into saving yourself so it’s okay if you now see that you are harsh with yourself.

Depends on when you look at it, realisations are horrible and necessary or important and beautiful.

But it doesn’t change the nature of the thing, the realisation, the desire to go slow and hug more of these feelings.

So next time, when you wash your hair, for a moment, pause, pay attention to how you apply the shampoo in your hair, if you are going too fast, just slow, feel the hair, it’s texture, close your eyes, there is not need to rush, it only takes a minute to make a change so small that can make your heart feel calmer.

Then open your eyes and make a mental note, if you are gentle with your hair, smile. Maybe even a little “yay” under your breath, that’s how I do it.

If you find yourself being rough, relax, and consciously focus to be slow.

Your change is at your pace and I think that’s the best part about your realisations.

Its “Little Monster” here

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It was a dark night

Different from my usual days of the sun setting without my skin feeling the light

It felt like someone turned on the darkness of the sky, a pristine coat of paint

The wind blew steadily and through the night, almost slicing it like butter, smooth enough for not anyone to be suspicious

I stood in my balcony and batted my eyes around

Noticing the sky, it pulled me towards it, the stars were bright today, brighter than any sky, brightest they could be in the place where I stood

The more I looked into it, the more I saw its purple edges, if I wanted to, I could recreate it on a blank page of canvas spread out on a big wooden table, a huge splash of dark purple and the center will be dark yet deep with the edges in purple hue

My garden felt real and unreal at the same time

Real because I saw it after a long time but unreal because it’s green made a presence thick enough for me to feel as if the hue was turned up 99

“No wonder insects sit on the flowers”, I say this with my brow raised in surprise as I admire the pink flowers

Moving from the other side to where I entered, I saw the white flowers that I remembered reviling in last march, it glows, the petals

“I want to make a dress of those flowers”, my mind wanted to take a needle and start cresting a dress right now, I could almost taste it, no I could taste it, the essence and the texture of the dress, beautiful and absolutely magnificent

The city was different tonight, it was a different city to me, it was created with my eyes and I felt effortlessly relaxed in it

Despite of all the cars and people, nothing of this scene wanted me turn into a cocoon, the serenity was cutting into me, I was bleeding but not in pain

I was relieved to know that no one was around me because they will scream and hurry to close the blood but only I knew that I was bleeding but I was bleeding out, my anxiety and my tears flowed into the night

The darkness floating and landing in the wind, it was a beautiful sight for me, I couldn’t rejoice more, my hands had been engraved with my words and I began to recite them like a prayer

“more the light that spoke a fewer words, more I found myself tight and organs suppressing inwards in a ball, squish, squish, I keep on hearing, squish, squish, I keep on saying”

It was only then I knew I was trapped.

Trapped in what I wanted to write and recited it like gospel.

Unable to see my feet, I only wished to live in what I believed.

Even if it costed me blood, the world I wanted to cease, so my soul could exist.

Not long after, I was on my knees, like a blood clot exploded on my face and chest, breathing heavily, somehow I have seemed to pull myself out of being taken.

I couldn’t seem to get my head around to what I was hoping to achieve, I built a scenario for me to do something.

I wanted to know, even though it could mean nothing apart from my impulse being alive.

But I wanted to know, hell, I needed to know, I couldn’t sit against a wall and hear myself think anymore.

I needed to know what I was trying to do, only then I would feel easy.

Only then I would okay to walk around in my own skin.

In a way I miss the light on my skin and my hair standing up.

I stood up and walked around, the only blood I saw was on my hands, scripted by a pen (the only instrument I could think of).

The garden was untouched and the floor was white, it filled with me with tears to further know I was alive in my head.

I must be just standing all this time without moving.

Now,

I wished….

Someone could have shaken my body to break me out of it.

There is a monster in my ribs

4th March, 2017

I don’t really like living. I have spent the majority of my life suppressing pain, being broken, healing from pain, over and over again, at some point, it gets a lot to bear, I don’t really enjoy being alive.

And I don’t wanna ignore that part of me, I feel like if I do, I’ll be even more sad.

And I don’t wanna be sad.

I just don’t wanna be sad.

But if I ask myself what else do I want to be if not being sad.

I don’t know, I wouldn’t know

It’s like there was never a choice for me

At some point, I was fatigued with “trying”

Just trying at everything

The worst part I find for today is that I cannot create a good life for me easily

I thought or more like I wanted that after all the pain, some things that I wanted would just fall in my lap

I earned it

But the reality of life doesn’t change, I would still have to struggle with everything I want to have and it won’t be pretty at all

And I am tired

I am tired of being

I have lost and hurt and got hurt even more

And I think the part about being aware here is also an added liability because since you’re so aware, you are aware of what all hurts, like everything is defined and it’s not — it just hurts but I don’t what makes me sad

I know what ticks me and it’s a curse when you’re overwhelmed

At that point, I try to keep my hands out stretched trying to grab onto anything but at the same time, I want to close up, like run away from everything and be somewhere far away, be somewhere that’s not here, so it’s a wrestling match within me and I push myself to not close up in order to receive help but sometimes I wIsh I jUST let iT be ANd NOT CoNtrOL whAt I WAnt to fEEl

I don’t want to survive, and I hate when someone says life is about surviving, no it’s not, not everyone survives, I don’t think anyone even understands what survival means, just using it as a fancy word to express a certain hard day, it pisses me off, it feels like my pain is being normalised and said that — it’s not a big deal

I FUCKING HATE THATTTTTTTT

I don’t know if there is a place in the world for me, women like me who like to think deeply, I’d like to find it but at this point it feels like an imaginary floating island

If I were offered death, I don’t know if I’ll take it, maybe I will, I don’t know, maybe at least what I want to believe is that, I, who even entertains that offer, is in a lot of pain, and I don’t want anyone to say that I am exaggerating

I think the silver lining you could say, you own your pain and protect it, not like in a way that prevents you from receiving love but more like, you understand your own feelings and intensity better than anyone, you don’t belittle yourself, which is a very important thing I have come to understand

What’s hurt the most, it’s like .. ranking your pain on a wish list or something

I would say being alone

It’s like you’re doing a play on a grand stage with a huge theatre at your feet but there’s no one to watch, to say, to clap, to exasperate, to feel eyes on you

Being alone to me, is something I fear the most, that if I were to bleed, I would bleed the colour of being alone, I would bleed different, slower, like my death would take time because I would want someone to come, someone to notice before I go away, I would want the feeling of being alone to be eradicated for once

It’s funny when I think about it, when you become older, you understand how much your childhood messes you up, everything your parents did which seemed normal but it really wasn’t, it was messed up and it shouldn’t have happened, parents are people who do stupid and ugly stuff just like the rest of the world, and it hurts to know that when you live in that environment, you become that ugly

I don’t like that

The hardest part about healing is to unlearn what you knew, and the hardest part about that is to feel about it differently, say you threw a rock at a car since a long time, but you never think it’s wrong because nobody told you so, it’s sad…

I don’t like it when I sit back and throw my feet up to realise that lives are not created equal, it’s just blissfully you could say- unfair

I have encountered people that haven’t had traumatic experiences or even just plain simple painful experiences and they are not assholes as the world might tell you, but it sucks that pain is biased to who it comes to, and unbiased to who it passes by

I wish for a life that I could live without pain, I know kind of impossible and utopian but I have been praying… wanting for the longest time to have a moment in my life where I can breathe easier

It’s a sad world, isn’t it?

Do you feel the monster inside you?