I read what I wrote in those days of self discovery and it scares me. Self discovery was a conscious process… a thought that happened every day, a pleasure that occurred everyday when I sorted the emotions and the feelings and I could match some and leave the others as abstract.

How much have I changed since I was that girl in a new city, discovering new things and new people? I have faded much since then and gotten cynical. I do not trust people any longer… it seems I keep expecting them to fail me, and I keep setting high expectations for the world. We both have gotten used to the disappointment.

But I still find that there are things that have not changed. The moments of fun… those moments of living… the moments of sobriety.  Now, I try to find people who fit into that scheme of things rather than just fly and enjoy the experience of meeting such a varied crowd.

I have no patience with fools and morons. I have nothing to say to religious fools and morons. There is too much hate in the world, too much money and not enough of it either.

I have grown more open and more closed. I read my old thoughts and I realized they were brief but they were… true. Have I lost the ability to speak the truth or have I just learnt to shield it in varied ways… such that only a few learn the truth if they know what to read?

The ambiguity still lives on in me, the contradictions. The 3 of me too… one who watches, one who does and the one who laughs. Among others.


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