Not a Woman of a Few Words

In a world where voicing your opinions is still distasteful, I am here expressing them as often as I can. I am definitely NOT A WOMAN OF A FEW WORDS! Believe it or not, I am a woman of A LOT of words, all the words I know to be fair!

Communication is the key, lock, room, premise, as a matter of fact, an entire universe for me.

From all my little life experiences to the situations I’ve been stuck in, communication has always been my way out. And for the ones I could not find a way out, I choose to believe that effective communication would have changed that.

We are out here, trying to thrive in the world that finds opinions offensive and standing up for yourself disrespectful. But you still gotta put it on the table. As long as you are not going all out, loud, clear and precise about what you freaking think and what you freaking want, how do you even expect people to give that to you or stop giving it to you!

You are hurting, you speak; you are sad, you share; you are worried, you address; you are happy, you express; you are anxious, you convey; you are unsure, you tell; you are trying, let them know.

Whatever you have to say, if you think it needs to be heard, just put it out in the world. I am sure, if you are someone like me who has a lot to share, you have been turned down too often to be scared to lose a thing.

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PATTERNs & MOs

I have a friend who once told me about this theory of how we keep befriending or falling for people with identical qualities. It's like a pattern, a subconsciously identified comfort zone that we get lured by. I gave quite a thought to this, much more than I usually do to something I generally hear. I got really lucky in the friendship department, so falling in the pattern is worth my while. I would happily do it over and over again. But, when it comes to matters of heart, mmm, not so much! I just realised that the MO of the guys I get involved with is terrifying. (Switched to MO instead of patterns because it's criminal the number of times I have been hurt). It starts with them finding me somewhere on the internet. For the first month, they treat me like I put stars in the sky, pursue me as their world revolves around me, and practically force me to fantasise about a full-fledged life with them. Well, I am no less. My MO is over-sharing, a butt load of honesty, putting on

Jack of Crisis, Masters of Denial

Sinking in the sea of crisis, human-made, situational or self-induced. We aren't looking for solutions anymore. We aren't wasting time sulking. We are straight-up pushing it all to the deepest, darkest, rarely visited corners of our heads. After all, living in denial still counts for living, contrary to facing the feelings that leave you lifeless. We are eating, drinking, sleeping off or sleeping with the crisis. Pretending to be as unbothered while denying the fact that it burns like a gin and hurts like a bitch. Faking, hoping to make it. Skating through life while the fire within simmers only to erupt when least expected.

Ah! The incomparable joy and comfort in the lonliness

The joy of roaming around in an empty house in a robe with a glass of wine, The comfort of eating your favourite meal in a public space with your AirPods on, The joy of watching a movie and not getting prompted every minute, The comfort of not having to talk to anyone after a long-long day of work, The subtle joy and comfort in knowing there isn't anyone for you to depend upon. If you shatter into a thousand pieces, no one is going to pick any fraction of it. I am now best friends with the void that scared the shit out of me. Chills run through my body when I spare a mere thought of how comfortable I have gotten in my own company. I don't know what or which particular experience it is that cut right through me. But whatever or whoever did it, they did me a favour. After it all, you are all you got.

Ribs_Writes

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