I knew the seconds before committing to watch it that it would demand the best of my courage and most of my anger. I knew I might be disgusted in my gut to the extent I might never feel pure again. But I ventured.
It was structured for 58 minutes and I challenged myself to sit through only to relive the nightmare to the slightest extent.
It began. In 4 minutes I grabbed the pillow lying lazily next to me and shouted my soul into it before I could cry. I shouted and it absorbed. I shouted harder and pressed my face in deeper only to not let myself hear it. I saw her for the first time. I saw her in the years she must have always smiled. She looked liked me. And that killed me. I continued shouting into the pillow and I tried to stop but couldn't. After few minutes I heard from him. I was more angry and uncontrollable by now. I rushed and knelt down in front of Him. I folded my hands and cried. I cried until I wasn't sure what to wish for. I cried in wait for a wish I could frame but in vain. I puked and wished I could stop. My throat ached but I couldn't stop.
I crawled my way back to see if I could handle and then he said it. What he said shook my soul and I died. I died a death so meaningless that it shook my faith. Faith is a strong assumption which manifests itself as belief. Its so weak that at times of desperation its this weakest thing one holds onto. Mythology creates a subtle balance of good versus bad that it pleases a moral soul. When the balance is disrupted or the questions are unanswered one doesn't understand what to cling onto.
I anticipated sleepless nights or nightmares but I was wrong. My conscious was challenged and I was unable to take shower without loud music nullifying not only the silence but the whisper of the shower. I was scared. Fortunately I had distractions and friends to distract me and push me normalcy. I went out of town to spend money on a dress and slapstick comedy and all along the ride I was battling the atrocious thoughts eager to surface. The conversations helped me a bit but I was still scared and shaken.
The next day I spoke to a friend about this and he pitied me. For the amazing person he is, he tried to respect my pain and left it to me to battle.
Few days passed and I was still grossed out. I felt impure and more importantly lame. In my ritual of respecting humans dead and alive I lost sense of sense. I laughed at my futile prayers and my lame good wishes. I laughed at being lucked out. I smirked at emotions not sufficing the pain. I took back my lame attempt at feeling sorry or pretending to understand.
Now I decided to share the way I feel with someone who means the world to me but what she had to say shook my faith further. The attitude to chose ignorance over empathy broke my beliefs and forced me give up.
Amidst this I realized that humanity is the definition of irony.
It was structured for 58 minutes and I challenged myself to sit through only to relive the nightmare to the slightest extent.
It began. In 4 minutes I grabbed the pillow lying lazily next to me and shouted my soul into it before I could cry. I shouted and it absorbed. I shouted harder and pressed my face in deeper only to not let myself hear it. I saw her for the first time. I saw her in the years she must have always smiled. She looked liked me. And that killed me. I continued shouting into the pillow and I tried to stop but couldn't. After few minutes I heard from him. I was more angry and uncontrollable by now. I rushed and knelt down in front of Him. I folded my hands and cried. I cried until I wasn't sure what to wish for. I cried in wait for a wish I could frame but in vain. I puked and wished I could stop. My throat ached but I couldn't stop.
I crawled my way back to see if I could handle and then he said it. What he said shook my soul and I died. I died a death so meaningless that it shook my faith. Faith is a strong assumption which manifests itself as belief. Its so weak that at times of desperation its this weakest thing one holds onto. Mythology creates a subtle balance of good versus bad that it pleases a moral soul. When the balance is disrupted or the questions are unanswered one doesn't understand what to cling onto.
I anticipated sleepless nights or nightmares but I was wrong. My conscious was challenged and I was unable to take shower without loud music nullifying not only the silence but the whisper of the shower. I was scared. Fortunately I had distractions and friends to distract me and push me normalcy. I went out of town to spend money on a dress and slapstick comedy and all along the ride I was battling the atrocious thoughts eager to surface. The conversations helped me a bit but I was still scared and shaken.
The next day I spoke to a friend about this and he pitied me. For the amazing person he is, he tried to respect my pain and left it to me to battle.
Few days passed and I was still grossed out. I felt impure and more importantly lame. In my ritual of respecting humans dead and alive I lost sense of sense. I laughed at my futile prayers and my lame good wishes. I laughed at being lucked out. I smirked at emotions not sufficing the pain. I took back my lame attempt at feeling sorry or pretending to understand.
Now I decided to share the way I feel with someone who means the world to me but what she had to say shook my faith further. The attitude to chose ignorance over empathy broke my beliefs and forced me give up.
Amidst this I realized that humanity is the definition of irony.
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