I LOVE YOU FOR THE SAKE OF THE BROKEN PEOPLE WHO NEED YOU

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You know if I told you right now I have realized that the world is square, you would tell me I am crazy. If I added that the square world is not meant for all human beings, that people should be living in mars where we all weigh much less, you would say I am totally nuts AND weird. But what if, just what if, a square world seems like a box to me; my own world and all I have to do is keep thinking outside it? Think beyond my own life? That maybe Mars is what I consider everyone’s world? And that is where I should keep focusing on?

All this doesn’t make sense right? This sounds worse than Greek. This just made you seem like a dyslexic person and you did not get anything.  Or maybe, it makes a little bit of sense. Or a lot more. Or it totally makes sense. It always depend on who is reading this. Well, this post is dedicated to all those who could find meaning in my first paragraph. The message itself is pointless in this context but all this is about the ability in finding meaning. It is meant for everyone who could read between those lines. It is meant for every writer, every poet, every deep person, every humanitarian, every artist who sees the world with a third eye. This might as well be read by everyone. But this is specifically for you. For a special person like you.

One of the most scary things about writing, about being a poet or simply having the ability to connect with people; you become vulnerable to all kinds of judgments. You remain misunderstood for a whole lifetime. Your words are twisted. Your personality is scrutinized with a microscope. Your intentions are full of myths and misconceptions. You become more than just a name. More than just what you do or what you write about. You are no longer so and so the writer or the poet. You become so and so the complainer, the drama queen, the sadness addict, the black swan, the ranting squirrel, the word-attacker, disturbia, the over-reacting brat, you become the darkness itself. You become all people’s judgments together. You become just what they decide to think of you. And sometimes or most of the times, you can’t correct their disillusioned vision or their twisted thoughts of you. You can’t start justifying yourself to everyone. You can’t start telling them who you really are. Because if they really opened your heart for them to see what is inside you, they wouldn’t do any better than judge you for all that is within you. And funny thing is, when you post something on your personal account, they judge you and mock you for all the deepness yet if those same words are seen on a different page or even your site they will praise your master pieces. They will just take it like any other art work. But due to their shallow thinking and double standards, they mock you when it appears under your name because they somehow know you. Haha and trust me, these are the same people who would be praising and sharing Yasmin Mogahed’s deepest posts, R.H.Sin, Drake, Her blank canvas or her silent perception. Oh well but because this is YOU and they think they know you, they make you seem like a dry flower in a desert that’s desperately seeking attention like it’s water. Lol they would even be reading this and their twisted minds make them think that I am filing a complaint here too 😂 So yes, it is pointless after all.

Many a times I wished that I could do something else other than write. I wished that perhaps I could just be that crazy kind of a person who can literally ignore all that happens with them or in their lives. I’ve wished I could do anything else to survive other than write. You know like how sometimes you write something and someone quickly comments how weak you are or how you post something deep and they think you are always letting the world know what you are going through. Or how you speak out your mind and they mock you for it. I for one have struggled to keep writing because I just wanted to avoid judgments and speculation on what is going on in my life. But you all know the truth don’t you? You know why we write, You know why we have all those deep posts on our timelines, you know why we express ourselves and be brutally and vulnerably honest. You know it is because we see the world so differently, you connect with people too deeply, you empathize with people, because you have come face to face with darkness, because you know what it means to be broken and whole at the same time. So what if you post what you do? Does it actually define any of our lives? Not really. Does it make you any less human from the rest? Of course not. Does it make you any special? Yes and a big yes, because from what you write and say and sing and do, you are connecting to so many other people. You are the voice of the voiceless. You are someone else’s shadow and light. You are expressing what they would never have the guts to do themselves. So what if you are so different? You forget that you are beautifully different.

Whenever you feel you can’t write something deep and real and honest, remember that someone out there is actually counting on your words to feel better, to feel valued, to feel loved, to stand back up after the terrible fall. Remember all those ‘thank you, this is exactly what I needed to hear right now’, all those phone calls thanking you for making them smile. Remember all those comments and many more comments of people talking of their own experiences and how they relate to your words. Remember that you are someone special in someone’s life. That someone finds light again through you and because you pointed to them the light at the end of the tunnel. You are loved. And I for one, love you for the sake of all the broken people who need you. I love you for being there, even if not exactly physically, for those who are down and sinking.

Please keep writing. Keep doing what you have to. Don’t hesitate to speak out your mind. The world desperately needs more of you 😊

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A freelance writer, journalist, poet and blogger venturing mainly in social and community issues, study and analysis of behaviour and life, and the plight of the under-dogs in the society. 'I feed on human stories.'

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