So we malayalees have this holiday where we’re not supposed to read, write or learn for a whole two days. I ended up sitting in my room, looking out my window and sipping some black coffee, thinking about, well, me. And here’s what I found out.
I’m a very weird person, and I don’t mean it in a I’m-so-interesting-and-different way or a I’m-human-trash way. Everyone is strange in their own little ways- most people are just great in hiding it. The problem with me is that though I am rather good at acting in plays, I cannot pretend to be something I’m not.
That kind of thing is nowadays romanticized in films and books. Its like ‘Oh that character… I know she has a sharp tongue, but she keeps it real and I like how truthful she is.’ In real life, stuff like that gets you hated or at least makes you the irritating one amongst a group of friends. I truly believe that in order to have a fulfilling life as a human being, it is necessary to have the ability to mask one’s true feelings. And by that, I only mean cases where doing so is advantageous to yourself and/or the others involved.
I sometimes forget that as a human being I’m supposed to be kind and compassionate to everyone. One time a girl told me a secret (she wasn’t drunk, just highly emotional) and the next day she hunted me down to make me promise to keep it under the radar. Without thinking, I answered something along the lines of “Oh don’t worry. I’ve already forgotten most of what you’d said anyway, so I won’t be spreading anything around”. She suddenly got quiet and softly told me to never say that to anyone else ever again. I feel bad about it to this day.
Not that I’m not a ‘kind’ person in general. I usually find myself going out of my way to help people I genuinely care about, and many times that has led to me being taken advantage of. I’m strange, because even though my friends can clearly see that I’m being manipulated (and they tell me that too, bless them!) I would defend the guilty party to my last breath ; or at least until they finally reveal their true form. Even then I have this weird withdrawal stage where I continue to help them from the sidelines till eventually they do something scandalous enough to put me off of them forever.
And that’s another thing I find strange about me. I cannot love people by halves. I either adore them (this adoration can be expressed loudly by way of hugs and exclamations or silently by a shy smile) or extremely despise them. Most people I’m indifferent to. But the problem with my adoration is that I continue to view them as perfect creatures who can do no wrong. That has gotten me into some troubling situations more than once (cough *my first relationship* cough). And if I begin to hate someone, I find even their breathing an offence to the beautiful world I inhabit.
I’m generally a very happy person. I ought to be proud that I find happiness in the simplest of things, but as mom said, happiness gets a little troubling when you find your daughter choking back tears because the book she had ordered online got shipped. And then there are days when I have a perpetual aura of gloom around me. Days where I hate everyone and everything and I keep continuously swearing in my mind for the silliest reasons.
Dang you piece of crap paper how dare you fucking move before the fucking ink fucking dries fuck everything and oh hey fuck you too, Steve
*Apologies to any Steve who reads this- that name just sounded appropriate*
Whenever I buy a pretty or cool outfit I always feel guilty that it wouldn’t be able to look as good on me as it would have on *insert any pretty woman I know*. And don’t even get me started on accepting compliments. I either pretend to not have heard or say some stupid shit like “I know!”
“Hey, You look cute today!”
“Bitch I look cute everyday”
Not very funny or witty in real life.
My family considers me weird because I don’t act like they did growing up. I can literally see stress wrinkles forming on their faces whenever I drop hints about dying my hair or getting a tattoo. Wanting to do these things isn’t really that strange, but for them its foreign stuff that ‘Americans’ can do but ‘well-bred malayalee girls’ should not. They also find it strange how some days I wear dresses and other days I’d rather die than wear one. To be honest, I’m not sure how to take it either.
A few guy friends I have once told me I’m a natural flirt. I don’t really mind, because that helps me get along with boys. And also, its a great improvement from the earlier man-fearing version of myself. But when it comes to the guy I really do want to flirt with? I turn into a bumbling bimbo.(Something I only recently found out. I have a crush on a person who probably thinks I’m an alien or at least an experiment gone wrong.)
I don’t just like books and tv shows. I get invested in them. From having crushes on fictional people (or wizards. or half-demons. or non-sparkly-vampires) to adoring perfect fictional relationships, I do it all. Its even crept into real life, where I find genuine happiness by listening to and cheering on people with their own special love stories.
Oh, and I talk to myself to cheer me up. Its actually really effective.
So yeah. When we come down to it, I’m pretty weird. But hey, all of us are. And like that quote goes-