Fu*k Everybody-When People Try to Make you Walk their Own Ways
This world, a crazy place to be if you are trying to find an escape, unto the shadows of glamour—to walk like the cosmos did each night. There has been, for the ever mounting victims of authoritarianism—souls that are no longer able to express.
It’s quite simple, now that everyone is an ‘expert’ in the so called art of living, and will want to control the ways you try to live your own. People simply don’t get it if you are just trying to be yourself, inside your own skin.
They will bother you in each act, whether it be a Sunday when you will just want to stay at home, inside those purple stained walls, with no one to impress but your own mind. And the hailstorms of August, the comfy sheets rained on the skin, the perfect coffee and the unspoiled attire that will be solely yours tonight.
Why is it that people don’t get it, the fact that one is happy just being him or herself?
The dusk that belittles into a nightmare—unrelenting hate towards oneself, for not following the ways dictated by the society. I mean, beauty is never any sweeter than the feeling of being with your own company.
We are all different, and with it, the creative connotation that so fluently binds. People will think that one is a loser, for not blending into their ways—the mimics of everyday living. But they just, for the thousandth time—aren’t able to grasp the fact that we just like to be inside our skins, harnessing the qualities of life that, otherwise couldn’t have been better explored.
Just as the bird which flies over the terrains of each colorful sky, the trees that don’t get bothered by the neighboring forest and the wolves that don’t mind our business—why is it that humans don’t understand, the beauty that they foolish themselves with.
A lot has been said, and still, my dearest friend out there—a victim of such cruel acts, has to live with the fact that he has no control over his own ways. I too, in a society filled with phony people—with all that I’m made of, have tried so hard to follow my own prettiness in each verse that I narrate, the way I eat, how I brushed my teeth or how I spent my leisure time.
It’s the only thing that differentiates, the reasoning with oneself, to make it to the end. Nobody ever notices, but we too, the suffering that is omnipresent. I mean, it would be just so much nicer if people didn’t exist around you, so that—under the lifeless sky, you are able to express unconditionally.
And when the chatters get way too far, it’ll be better if one just did not care. To get away from the toxicity of the so called elite humans, as far as possible, never to turn back to the same place that made you question your own self.
-Yogesh Chandra