If I start being who I really am; I'd be an asshole

Now that I've decided to take blogging more seriously, most of my upcoming posts will be about personal growth, people, stories and little ideology bits. Although my older posts represent my past and 'premature thinking' I won't delete them as it'll help me to keep myself in check and measure my growth. I've often heard people say 'Just be yourself', they'll say 'Don't pretend', even my News Feed will pop out these teenage posts advising me to stay who I am. What I don't understand is that do they really understand the circumstances and the weight of their consultation, I mean, if I start being who I really am, I'd be an asshole. One cannot simply be 'just himself'. That would make them socially awkward and probably inactive in society. What I mean to say is all of us are bits and pieces of people we aspire and the people we inspire. We all are stories, different stories formed with interactions, interactions of small levels, big levels, intermediate levels. We are what we believe, assuming all the other negative aspects remain constant. We all are born innocent and naive but by the time we grow up, we all start living in a gutter. Love, happiness and faith are all forgotten and we indulge ourselves in the survival of the fittest. I am what I saw, who I met, the stories I shared, the moments I lived, the things I learned, the food I ate, the girl I had crush on last week and that little part of self-centered ideology. Don't be yourself. Form yourself.

Lost and Found

Sometimes I wonder why me ? Then I would tilt my head and get lost in the never-ending debate of meaning of life. Today was a little different. I was lost. I was a different person, yet again and I was reminded of it on regular basis. Today, I felt like I had lost my importance. The world was running without me.  I was growing up, I stood there, gaping in the mirror. I had these thick facial hair growing up. I hadn't done anything remarkable, anything that I had planned I would. The reverse cultural shock was apparent. Instead of crying and regretting later on, I decided to get my shit together and message all the important people and get all the important information and live up to my dreams. But reality had other plans. I didn't get a single response from any of my comrades and alumni. I felt desolated, devastated.  The people, I thought respected me, were lost in their own delusional world of importance and 'who does the best'. People I loved were busy with there lives. And there was this thought, at the back of my head, which kept bothering me, 'Sarwar sahab ki gaari chori hogayi, how would he manage? He was just a hardworking teacher, why him?' . The reality looked at me like a punching bag and it was showering it punches. That's not enough to get me down. One new episode of Naruto and I was back to my old self. People change and people help each other. Good people are everywhere and you just need to work harder and harder. Life will find you well. Just do what you want to do. I had found myself again. A happy old fuck. Eventually, my comrades got back to me, one of them actually planned out a little something that would restore my lost spirit. And, as I write this story of my predicament and dilemma, my senior Alumni got back to me as well! I guess people are busy sometimes, a "seen" on facebook chat with no response doesn't mean it's the end of the world. They get back to you eventually and its my time to get back to the people who look up to me ! Over and out!

Last Resort

Lately, I haven't been writing a lot and I did not plan to, but something peculiar happened that made me write again. Over the course of last three to four weeks I have been going through a strange addiction, an addiction considered to be a sin in Islam, which is eating me from inside. I've left no stones unturned to get 'rid' of this monster that has been devouring me, but to no result. I've resorted to prayers, hoping some kind of  spiritual confrontation will help me, I've tried meditating but to no avail, I've tried restricting myself through a strict and hectic schedule and exercised on regular basis, which was futile. I was getting desperate, these nefarious thoughts and deleterious practice was not good for my health and for my future. I was in a gutter.

I know life's not fair and sometimes you have to surrender in front of your hormones. This lesson came hard to me. After all the possible remedies I've resorted to writing for my cure. Writing will certainly help me transmute my thoughts that I can no longer contain. I certainly cannot speak for I've tried that countless times, I don't have enough courage to repent again, although I will. This will be my last resort. To quit, is my goal. I have high expectations, but it's hard to bear in mind that its not always about 'me', sometimes you have to consider others, and that can help you. Maybe I should try this myself. haha.