Attempts Continue

I want to write more. i am not satisfied. i know i want to say more. lack of word or time i don’t know. but what i want to say. i want somebody to read it right now. i want that somebody to talk to me immediately. yes, physical presence is necessary. i want to say bad things about all those who got something which i could not. i want to say that it was unfair. i worked as much as they did. but i didn’t get what they have now. i want to run the race with all my energy and effort pushed into. what would you do, stranger? lets do it, my heart says, do it. even if it means cramming. you want marks desperately, yes you do. to prove that you do exist. yes, i need to prove myself, even though, those people don’t matter to me. may be they do. that’s why i am writing here instead of studying. i can’t escape that. they do matter because i live around them or they live around me. we meet, we talk, we both pursuing same goal for the time being. so they do matter. but what about if i lose something very important just to prove them that i also exist. there is no escape route. there are so many questions that surround you. they never let you feel lonely. they live by you. they grow within you, even if you refuse to recognize them they will chase you until you stop running. i am feeling lost now. don’t feel like studying. May be i’ll meet you after 30 Sept. otherwise i’ll get more depressed. i won’t express myself. it always get me in trouble. i go mad i don’t feel like doing anything else but deliberating over things or ideas surrounding me and self introspection, my different moods and feelings. everybody has this desire to express. i don’t know how those people manage who don’t have avenues to express and that too without being feel threatened and mocked at. I- who is educated, find it difficult to express my real feeling in a way that they can evoke same emotions in others as they do to me-fail to understand and feel bad about those who don’t even have any language or words to express. having a voice and able to voice are two different things. without words you don’t have voice except tears. without language you don’t have words. here lies importance of language and vocabulary. here lies importance of literature, i guess. we want to connect, communicate. we can’t live without that. and when you fear of being mocked at, you talk to your computer, you fill your secret diaries like i do. you write something in hope that at least somebody would read you and understand you. i wish i could continue. leaving my thought abruptly here, i hope to keep it safe, it was part of my life, i bid farewell. hope to meet you on 30th sept. in case you are wondering who is this ‘you’ in the last sentence. it was not you, my stranger (are you still a stranger when i used ‘my’ before addressing you?) it was my blog.

By the way, i am just pasting some links below which according to wordpress contains related content. i have no time to go through, but if you (stranger) have, you can.

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