Feeling tonight is one of those nights in which I’m thinking too much. There’s too much to say as I scroll through my newsfeed and see people sharing videos, pictures, events, celebrating and rejoicing, at times sharing the demise of a loved one or giving their condolences to someone for the pain they must be going through, the suffering being incurred.
I see useless rants about girls wanting to do their ‘own thing’ and how society is ‘intolerant’ towards their need for ‘freedom’, I see people arguing over political situations and world wars and makeup tutorials. I see the urge, the need to be convincing. I see people who want their voice to be heard, intending to be the ‘best’, counting on the number of likes they will get if they write an opinion a specific way.
I see people everyday doing the same shit over and over again: sharing, commenting, laughing, arguing, sharing, commenting, laughing and arguing. They do this on repeat everyday, as I scroll through my newsfeed horrified, realising that one way or the other, I have been influenced.
I see my Facebook wall and realise that I have been doing the same thing. But I realise that there is a need to share something with the world that affects me: maybe an incident that has been deeply engraved into me, or some old memory which makes me happy, or a picture of a kid from Syria stunned at the atrocities they are going through for no real reason at all. So I share. However, I wonder if all this is worth it at the end? Whether it really matters to people if I stop sharing at all? No, it doesn’t matter, I realise. Tonight, I went to an event, a coffee shop launch near my place. I left my PR business a couple of weeks ago, and I realised that alot of people had forgotten me, forgotten who I was and whom I had worked for previously. Photographers didn’t even ask me to pose for a picture. I felt stale, and I realised how everyone going through all this fame, this popularity and this competition would feel.
I suddenly had sympathies with people from the fashion industry, from the film industry and from any such industry in which people only recognise you if you ‘show up to events’. How insecure would those human beings have felt, when they would’ve realised their time is gone, and better people are coming to replace them? But I understand, it is the circle of life and this is how it must go on, always.
I thank the Lord sometimes, for I am not fully a part of that life. I realise that I love writing, that I love singing, and that I can do both things without all the limelight. They satisfy my soul for sure, as I do them when I’m alone and I need some company. Singing helps me relax and get in touch with who I really am, and makes me remember my life’s experiences. Writing makes me realise the things that I have in my mind, that my mind is my treasure: holding onto all of my memories, the ones I love and the ones I hate.
As I relax now, after letting all my thoughts out on wordpress, I realise that I have yet again, shared my brain on a piece of technology, done what everyone else could’ve done, and that without having people read this, I wouldn’t feel complete. I wouldn’t feel like it affected people, I wouldn’t be acknowledged for the way I think or have someone say ‘I feel like this too, I thought it was only me!’. I long for someone to tell me that this is what they feel too, but I realise that people only do that in the spur of the moment, and that they don’t really mean it when they say it. But me, I mean it everytime I say it. I am an introvert, a strong, unprovoked, uninfluenced introvert. I don’t care how many people tell me some party is going to be great, I know for a fact that all the women will be dressed like big-time attention seekers and all the men will be looking for that one ‘booty’ to stare at for the rest of the night. These are not the kind of things I want, and I stay away. I don’t fight, I don’t argue, I don’t judge. I know this is what the world is now. So I stay at home. I forget and I read my books. And I write. I pretend the innocence in the world still exists, in the writing of people such as me.
I hope someday, soon, people will realise that they have become robots: and the world has become a never-ending competiton: of who will look best, see best, eat best, walk best, dress best, wear best, it’s just about the best, and there’s no end to it. And once they realise there’s no end to it, and they’re already too deeply into it, they’ll realise there’s only depression, a lack of attention from others, a strong competition and a never-ending cycle.
I hope everyone realises that true beauty and happiness is in the simplest of things: a family, a roof under your head, even having bathroom slippers and water in your fridge. Thank the Lord for the hair you have on your head, for the eyes that let you see the beauty of this world. For the tongue you have to speak, and the ears that make you listen to music. And lastly, I thank the Lord for giving me my body, my hands and my feet, and ofcourse my brains, so I can assess, think, process and progress. Thankyou Lord, I have everything. Amen 🙂