The brown pants!

 

I genuinely wished this week to turn the tides, but the customary ebb and flow of life continued. You're aging like fine wine but the suffering accompanies the process. In a fast-paced, demanding, and stressful world, sometimes I feel like throwing my hands in the air and exclaim "this is it, stop it please". But my heart persuades for one more time thinking that it was I who did not give my best shot to a particular moment. A vulnerable disposition, isn't it?

Escaping the arena is a common coping mechanism for those who are on the verge of giving up. It seems an easy way to not get caught up with things that are the causes of your woe. I have been an otaku for quite a long time now, and I find myself to be in tune with a shedload of characters. When their character arc approaches the end, most of them call it a day. They leave the limelight and retreat never to be found again. People unfurl scandals in hushed tones and hold the characters accountable for everything. But I believe that they just get sick to death of this world, the people residing in it, the process of them repeating their mistakes, and precisely the let downs.

The insidious pressures of your daily life make you wish for the people to loosen their hold on you. They cling to your hands, they jump over you and take you down with them. You catastrophize the whole world as the cause of your trouble. Life catches you off guard and then you try to let go. Your head refuses to be held high, your smile narrows down and your elbows do not swing anymore. You get tired and realize that you need a multitude of contrasting things to move ahead. I believe that it may be anything from an unprecedented path to an out-of-the-ordinary individual who guides your way.

Rowing your boat upstream is never easy, the tide interferes in your path. There is a distinction when you want to reach out at someplace because you want to augment your development, and when you decide to put an end to the toxicity. No matter what you choose, the world will scatter their figments of imagination. They will make it a word on the street. The culpable folks will implore mercy but what will you choose? You will grant them forgiveness. You will try to attune with their petty excuses. You will brood over the process later. It is not up to scratch. Forging ahead by losing heart just to save your skin for serenity is an obligation. 

Sometimes frustration entices you to end things because life's notion is not a cakewalk. You tend to put up with a world that shrinks to a black hole composed of tension, misery, fraud, abuse, disdain and sadness. If I would have sovereignty over life, I would have made people prioritize what they want and do what they yearn for. This pseudo forcing by begging through a desire to throw your mask aside even if you know that you cannot, is what makes up for other client's misery.

You have been born with this instinct to never give up. But somewhere along the line, that zeal fades away. You are talked out of your extraordinary ideas. You get entangled in the process to choose for yourself. Your hands tremble and your legs break as choosing is a daunting task. There are moments when you seem to slip away as exhaustion chants the mantra of "give up". Nobody wants to cause someone harm but there's a fine line between desperately begging for your sake and trying to transit yourself.

Art work credits-: pk.tama