Feeling Human

It’s a funny thing. My life. I take one step forward and two behind. I run away from what I treasure most or what seems like the answer to my endless battle against myself. The problem is of habit. Of knowing no other way than the path that leads you no-where. Sometimes I wonder why I do what I am doing. ‘coz I seriously don’t know. There used to be a reason but now it doesn’t hold good anymore. It doesn’t seem like I’m the one who made the decision to be here. God knows I did, but did I?

I wonder what it is about me. The rush? The rush from being mindless and without purpose is no rush at all now is it. It’s a joke. The joke’s on me.

What do I want? I want to feel human- An actual breathing, living being, who does not just live off the cracks and anomalies of life but who can reserve a space and call it my own. To not float and wander, aimlessly, rummaging through lives and other people’s dreams ‘coz I have none to pursue. To not ransack and plunder the love of someone, greedily like a blood sucker, never satisfied, always wanting more, feeding on it. I want to breathe. I know I have an inkling of humanity. I have a zest for life but just don’t know how to live it. I love what the world has to offer but can’t respect its conditions and short comings.

Am I a perfectionist? I would love to believe so but a perfectionist is obsessed with order. Not chaos. How many times have I thrown away the opportunity to live by a certain decree. Not only that, I laugh at it. Scornful of those who live content within their boundaries – but jealous of the immense happiness they experience in the confines of their decision. But that’s the point. They have made a decision. I know I don’t, only because I don’t have the courage it takes to stick by it, to see it through and be proud of it. I run, I hide. It is theatrical, the stunts I pull off and my actions that I get away with. It is pathetic in its assumption of being true and real and vulgar in its show of idealism and existentialism- Makes a mockery of anyone who really believed and lived by their convictions, as far-sighted as they may have been.

So they say, be yourself. But who wants to be me. I have a handful of cards to pick from- the Jack who lives by his own rules, only because he knows no better and believes he descends from a superior race. The Queen- who stays frigid and cold and seems untouchable to all other mortals. The Joker who only lives for the entertainment of others, making his own life a joke- an example and a case study in stupidity. These are my favourite cards. But it is still me.

I want to stop experiencing. Stop trying to get somewhere, stop motion. Put on the brakes and just feel. Feel all the emotions that I have on everything I have seen, felt, touched, smelt, wished, heard, loved, wanted, till now. Drown myself in its entirety, in the sheer poetry of it being right and wrong, noble and shameful, pleasing and horrid at the same time. Understand the continuum of my own self and feel my ridges and lines. And who knows I might be on the right path to feeling human.