Incompleteness

Incompleteness, has become an essential part of me. Incomplete posts lingering in my drafts. Incomplete thoughts dawdling in my brain. Incomplete assignments dying for me to complete them. *huh*


Yesterday was a funny day. Yupe, that is it, it was a funny day. What? You want details? Oh! You think I am going to disclose all details here and tell you everything so that people can read all this and wonder what a twit I am? Okay, you are right. I am a twit. You think it is funny? I think it is sad.


I do not like comedy. I mean, give it a thought. What is comedy? Comedy is finding amusement in the sufferings of other people. Charlie Chaplin, the poor fellow, slips off his feet and you find that amusing. Ha! Comedy is a milder form of sadism, you see. If you like comedy, you are a sadist. You didn't know that now, did you?


I have been accused of "posing" weirdness. Now that, my dear, was a one of a kind accusation. I was told that I like being thought of as a weirdo. *shakes head* How can people manage to come up with such "wonderful" ideas. My pains, my agony, my frustrations are mine. I never entreated any one of you to share them. Have I ever? NO! Because I know it. I know, that the moment I will open my mouth and talk about them you will think they are trash. You won't understand and please don't even try to. Your life is far too complete to understand my incompleteness. I have been given a fair share of blessings, I am not complaining to God about my life. I am happy with it (on the whole). But you just won't understand.


I was called a mental case when I mentioned that I am probably suffering from some kind of a chemical imbalance in my brains. Heart-breaking, I tell you. I literally felt a sting on the left side of my body, where the piece of meat called heart lies. Reason: Not Found. I had awful many reality checks. Too many for one day. I was evaluated and commented upon in every possible way. It was heart piercing. I was told that I am irascible and rude. I was fired at with an AK-47. Non-stop hits. But then, "all's well, that ends well". And all this ended well too. At the end, I was told that I am a "lovely person". Why, thank you so very much.  Although, I have failed to understand how can I be bad and lovely, simultaneously.

I need a fix.




P.S. To Sidra: Please be kind enough, to resume writing more often. I am getting bored without you yaar.