smile the smile...
I realized something really important about myself over the
weekend. I write my best when I am the saddest. The outflow of emotions are at
their best. I can think better. The English that comes out sounds great and
natural. I am at my eloquent best, you could say. And by now you should have
already guessed that I am sad right now. And so this over flow of emotions and
words and memories and what not. Yes, I have been sad, very sad, over the
weekend. And this is not a very rare occasion for a person like me. I have
grown up almost alone, although I can boast of a pair of siblings (they are way
older than me, and had already left home for studies or work by the time I grew
up). I had been an overtly reserved and shy kid at school. So, no friends
either. Hence, i grew up to be great friends with myself, sharing all my secrets
with my alter ego (?). I programmed myself to put up a brave face to the world,
show them how my life is so happy and perfect. But that is perfectly not the
case. I wear the perfect smile, even while the brain is hemorrhaged and the
heart split apart with daggers (man, that does sound poetic).
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