truth be told, we're all a bunch of liars

We're not hardwired to mean it every time we say

I'm sorry.

We save most of our sympathy for ourselves
and give the leftovers to those who have earned it.

We're hardwired to say
Fine.
Or some variation of it, every time someone asks
How are you?

We all know the apologies aren't sincere enough.
We're well aware that if we truly cared about someone's well being
they would tell us that they're
Scared.
Because they don't know how they're going to pay the rent.
Because their mother has cancer.
Because
I
made
myself
vulnerable.

I'm sorry.
I'm fine.
I'm a
l
i
a
r
.

//hello, we've never met before but I wish we had//

What if we had been strangers on a train
And I asked you what book you were reading.
You'd say:
“The Old Man and The Sea.”
Then I’d tell you I’d never read it before.
You’d say it was your favorite.
And ask for mine,
“Tuesdays with Morrie,”
I’d answer.
We’d bond over similar music taste
The XX
PRiNCE
Flight of the Conchords.
You’d compliment my sweater.
I’d admire your socks.
Maybe I’d be bold and ask to take your picture,
But probably not.
Instead I’d ask you name
And you’d ask mine.
I’d smile at your reaction.
"Nice to meet you Oshin.”
Then you’d go back to reading your book
And I’d try to find another excuse to talk to you.

//What if we weren't strangers//

Greetings and Farewells

She drew out their goodbyes as long as he'd let her
because she never really wanted to leave him.

                      *I adore you.*
                               *I'll miss you.*
                                    *Goodnight boo.*

                But waking up to his messages somehow made her bed seem less empty.
                                                                        And she hated empty things.
                                                                                           So she endured goodbyes
                                                                   in exchange for tomorrow's good morning.

I'm in Love with Anne Frank.

I think I like to write so publicly because it makes me feel like there's a chance someone is listening, even if I'm just talking to myself.

I was inspired to watch the Diary of Anne Frank after having listened to the Neutral Milk Hotel song Oh Comely.  Perhaps the next time I hear the song she inspired - it will ring truer.

The story's end left me with a compulsion to pray for Anne (as silly as that may seem). So I did. I climbed out of bed, got down on my knees before my bed and I prayed. I also felt compelled to apologize for being a terrible human being.

I'm sure many people say the same but I felt like I could relate to Anne in many ways. I used to want to be an actress for a while too before I discovered my passion for writing. And like Anne I feel I have no other choice but than to write. To write what I feel, write what I know. Also, she was  very lonely despite having been in such close quarters with seven other people. I find that I am often the most lonely when I am in the presence of others. This is deeply unsettling to me.

I've always been very codependent, and I've always hated that about myself.  I've been too needy with romantic relationships as well as mutual friendships. Though I am growing fonder of being independent and being content being on my own - I still yearn to be close to people. I yearn for it, but my actions don't reflect that yearning. I don't try to get close to people. I dismiss them before they can dismiss me. No risk of rejection. My emotions remain in tact because I don't put them into jeopardy by gambling on people anymore. There was a time when all I wanted was the approval of people whose names I no longer remember. In my naivety, I was in bliss.

All my fears seem more consuming than ever now. My fear of loneliness, my fear of failure, my fear of being so afraid. I want to be brave,  and do things in the spur of the moment. I want to travel and start conversations with strangers. I don't want to be safe.

I've had 19 years of that.

I walk over to my bookshelf and pluck The Diary of Anne Frank from it. I've never read it. I think I will start. I find some solace in knowing she achieved her goal - to leave something that would remain after she died.

You did it Anne. You're exceptional. I wish I could've met you.

I'm sitting here in my bed like I do most nights and I'm thinking about things I usually try not to confront. I'm not listening to music. Lately I've been abusing that form of media - using it as a way  to avoid ever being alone with the thoughts that linger in my mind.

I think a lot of people find silence scary.
Is is because we're afraid of ourselves?
I wish I hadn't removed my blindfold.