Here’s my heartfelt apology.
For all the blamings I’ve taken[when I wasn’t supposed to],
For all the times I was a punch bag,
For bitching myself down,
For letting people tell me what to do,
For hearing them say what I am,
For giving toxic people a chance,
A chance for bittering my soul,
For not embracing my emotions,
For not sitting with myself to mourn or laugh.
For all the crisis I drove you into,
Forgive me, my dear self!
Sitting on the floor,
Crying my eyes out,
Hugging my knees close to my chest,
Releasing long held hot breaths,
With a shriek voice,
Feeling the pain in my bones,
Seeing the wreckage in my life,
Embracing every bad feeling inside,
Is my thing now!
As the saying goes,
Whatever soul is made of,
Yours and mine is the same.
See and dig inside my head.
Join my world in wonder.
Feel the rhythms of my heart.
Move along with the strings in me.
And come!
I no longer am afraid,
Come be part of my universe!
"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."
— Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
July 6, 2021Jimma University, Jimma Dear nouveaupetiteOf the many times I sat to empty my soul and think clearly, the days I ended up with even more perplexities abound. The meaninglessness of life is where I often begin thinking over, and then a trail of thoughts unfold. I think about what is deeply wrong with […]
Letters To My Dearest Friend
When you see around,
In this lost and broken world,
Amongst the filth and wreckage,
Some people manage,
To be full of life-
Energy and beauty.
The sparkle in the eyes,
The rhythm in their voice,
The flush in their skin,
It’s all a keen.
Quite a talent, perhaps.
But most of us are-
Suicide in a bottle.
With sad souls,
Crushed hearts,
Traumatized memories.
The bottle be our covers,
Cover for death within us.
All the negatives within,
Never to be seen,
Or broken.
Just to confine them,
Into our deepest closets.
We only see them,
Not others.
Only hear them stomping on our hearts.
Crushing them more,
Traumatizing us further.
Weighing us down ever!
Those of you who are not among 'some'of the people, you're not alone. Life is not always shiny. Admitting is not weakness. It is actually relieving. Try it. You're not the only broken soul!!
What can I know of myself as long as I do not know that the self I do know is largely a synthetic product; that most people—including myself—lie without knowing it, that “defense” means “war” and “duty” submission; that “virtue” means “obedience” and “sin” disobedience; that the idea that parents instinctively love their children is a myth; that fame is only rarely based on admirable human qualities, and even not too often on real achievements; that history is a distorted record because it is written by the victors; that over modesty is not necessarily the proof of a lack of vanity; that loving is the opposite of craving and greed; that everyone tries to rationalize evil intentions and actions and to make them appear noble and beneficial ones; that the pursuit of power means the persecution of truth, justice and love; that present-day industrial society is centered around the principle of selfishness, having and consuming, and not on principles of love and respect for life, as it preaches. Unless I am able to analyze the unconscious aspects of the society in which I live, I cannot know who I am, because I don’t know which part of me is not me.
— Erich Fromm, The Art Of Being
You said you will be there,
You said you will listen,
You promised not to judge,
You agreed to keep my pace,
You said you will understand-
At least you would try.
Try to pick up the fragments,
Of my soul,
Of my heart,
Every little piece of me.
But now I’m burned out-
Drained out of life,
You’re not here.
I told you not to say the words.
I begged you not to tell me you’ll be there,
And now here I’m,
Sinking faster than ever-
And you’re not here.
Be careful of what you say,
Be careful of what you promise,
‘Cause I no longer know,
Why my heart bleed.
I can’t tell if it’s just my pain,
Or because of your words.
All I’m saying is-
Be careful of what you say!
For your words are powerful.
Your promises are hopeful.
Until they’re broken,
And become swords,
To cut me in pieces!
Who can murder pain?
Who can burn it into ashes?
Is there anyone, anything-
Powerful enough,
To destroy pain?
As if it never existed!
As if it was never there!
If so, here I’m-
Standing with pain,
In the middle of nowhere.
You’re more than welcome,
To come and kill it.
Even if it means,
Taking my soul and breath away!
O come, the pain killer!
You behold a superpower.
Can’t wait to meet you,
For once and forever!
‘Move on!
Don’t hold on!
Do not have a grudge!
Do not dwell!’
They say,
But they never say how.
Shall I forget?
Like it never happened?
Or shall I pretend?
Does that count as moving on?
Where to exactly?
Till I figure that out,
Until I know how,
I prefer to dwell.
I choose to heal.
Who knew healing would be painful?
As of the pain itself.
Who knew mending could be harder,
Than cutting deeper!
“Smile!”, they say. Despite whatever you’re feeling, just keep smiling. Even when you’re feeling the very opposite of it, you just keep smiling. That way you will avoid the negativity of the air. Because of course laughter is medicine, right?!
Is it though? Sometimes, I feel like laughter is plastering your wounded and rough emotions inside and putting the smoother ones to the outside world just to avoid attention and even help from others. Not only that, it’s also to
avoid judgement and snarky comments from the society. Who loves grumpy face anyway? So, like the many things in the world right now, a true smile is rarely found.
Here’s my argument though, what if we let our emotions to be seen? The true ones. What if we don’t always have to cover ourselves in the fake masks we build? As a society, what if we learn to show our emotions? What if that’s
the help we need? Rather than becoming superficial and pretenders, can we give ourselves a little break? May be we could even use the energy for mending ourselves more than breaking our soul in to pieces.
So, don’t just smile! Don’t show me your teeth for my own pleasure. Because when people insist on showing them your teeth, it’s not about you. It’s about the unpleasantry they want to avoid from their eyes. Try not to fall for that. Let your face to do whatever it likes to do. Relieve it from its contraction and relax. Let your smile be the genuine one from the heart!
I was living on the edge of the cliff,
For more than a while now.
I tried to ‘hang in there’,
Just like I was told.
Until I couldn’t.
Till I surrender to my own weakness.
To the point my hands bleed.
By then, I had to let go.
So I did!
And now, I’m falling.
I’m living in the mid-air!
I don’t know how far I’m left with.
Or how far I came.
All I know is I’m floating,
Swimming in the air,
With nothing to grab on,
I’m not hangin’
I’m just floating.
I know how this sounds,
Easier, simpler may be.
But that’s all I want you to do.
Just let me go.
May be everyone is asking –
To hold them tight,
To grab their hands.
But, unlike everyone-
I want you to let me go!
Whenever we found ourselves-
on the rock bottom of ‘life’,
I bet we all ask this question-
What if I did that?
What if I haven’t chosen that path,
I think I could’ve made it better,
What if I could fix this mistake.
We’ll be surrounded by our own circle of what ifs
And believe me, that’s not a good place!
It’s always a conundrum.
If you’re at that point of your life,
Same here!
I’m already there.
Don’t be shy.
And feel free!
But you know what I always wonder,
Although there’s no exact place,
A so called ‘up in the air’
‘Flawless,perfect, fancy and all’
I wonder the what ifs of those people.
Do they really wonder just like us?
Would they challenge themselves with the same questions?
Is there anything thing they say ‘I wouldve’?
May be they might,
Or may be not.
The whole idea is scary, perhaps.
But, you know what scares me most,
The ‘impossible what if’s
What if I achieve all the things I dreamt of?
What if I become that person I wanted to become,
What if all my fantasies become real?
What if the version of what I thought was best,
Becomes an actual beast.
Driven by money, power or education.
What if I become one of those people?
I ain’t wanna see the picture,
On the other side,
What if I become all the things I couldn’t heal from?
What if those are the things which made up what I’m now.
That’s the impossible what if I’m scared of.
With many possible answers.
And ofcourse I don’t know how to face that what if.
I don’t think I’m dealing with any of it anyway.
But who knows?!
There’s no impossible what if in the first place?
I don’t know how it started,
Or where it started exactly.
I don’t remember how we got here,
It feels like yesterday though.
I don’t recall the moment I let you in,
I don’t recognize who I’ve become now.
All I know is this-
It was casual.
Free, not coerced at all.
It just flowed out of us, perhaps.
Then, we called it friendship.
We shook on it,
We did, didn’t we?
It, then, just flowed.
We let it become,
What it has become.
Who cares about beginnings anyway?
What matters is now, right?
Because, now only matters.
You let me in-
I’m not peeking through holes anymore,
The same way you’re not watching me through a peephole.
We opened the doors of our mind
And fear is right behind us,
For both of us-
I think we surpassed it though,
Now we’re at the gate of the puzzle,
Getting closer, every day!
Whatever we are now,
Friends, best friends may be.
Far more than acquaintance, definitely.
A bit less than family, I guess.
I don’t want us to become reminiscences.
I don’t want “now” to become a memory of a kind.
I don’t want us to recall moments-
Spots, jokes we laughed at-
Which by the way I didn’t get at first(the jokes),
The long walks we had,
Strange imaginations we shared,
Weird thoughts and ideas we had.
See, this is what I don’t want us to be.
I don’t want us to be some sort of treasured memory.
I want us to remain,
Like this,
Like now!
Me rolling my eyes,
You hmmm’ing at what I say.
I wish it would be a constant.
Although, they say change is the only constant,
In this dynamic universe.
I don’t want us to change.
I want us to grow.
I can’t tell where that’s,
I can’t pinpoint it on a map.
But I want us to grow into a bliss,
So then, we won’t become reminiscence.
To special someone, you know who you're😊💛💛
Unabridged Manuscripts 