Don't Say Thank You
I want to get better at acting. It needs meditation. I am not certain about any roadmap to follow. Perhaps evolution does not have any direction but people are fearless towards the possibility. To think of myself as an individual will be exploring oneself. But to be an explorer I have to be a follower. To be a follower I will have to be a ‘nobody’.
I stepped on stage today, again. I developed a pedagogy of embarrassing oneself. The crowd is one ruthless thing. There is a world of difference. Between someone on stage and an individual sitting in the dark waiting to be surprised, cried, blissed, and be seen.
A crowd is like a personality. Like a swarm of fireflies that starts to take a shape. Every blip has a story.
Today I smoked. Took a detour and parked at a park by the lake. Glimmering water and shiny orange leaves were helping me make a move towards epiphany that a relationship without closure has made my life meaningless. Like a person walks out of the crowd without ending a story. What do I do with that story? Am I making the right conclusion about that story? Just sit there and delve into nihilism.
I broke the cigarette and threw it away. I don’t know why I did it. The smoke was not annoying but the chain of thoughts was overwhelming me and I made a decision to fix something. I feel it is okay to be irrational. Like giving yourself sometimes a treat even if you don’t deserve it. Anything that makes your day bearable.
The helmet protects me. There is a different quality of my bike. The engine sound of the hero bike has a signature stroke sound. The sound after a long rev. It is like a breath. Controlling Combustion is controlled with the intricacy of engineering involved. It is like taming a dragon to fly a certain way and direction. While I commute to work the helmet encloses the outside noise and lets me enter only the vibration picked from the bike. I can hear myself in my helmet. I knew how terrible I sing, how I talk. That ride was only my comfort zone.
If you ever get a chance to play a video game, you will notice that there will be a safe house or safe garage or checkpoint. It has value to it. It is a place for the player to organize his/her strategy. Maybe a safe place where no evil from the game can harm you. Well, that’s the perfect analogy for a comfort zone. Another Epiphany happened today.
I am good at making stories. Spontaneous stories, stories that sell. I am good at telling stories because I am good at lying. I am good at lying because right from my childhood I have put myself in a situation that was something of a conflict with authority. Like being caught in traffic, a teacher, an elder sister, brother. This may have happened because of my juvenile attitude. But, to get away from a situation like this I would have to create a lie. A lie that has to be so organic that the person next to will connect the dots by himself.
But first, how to serve a lie?
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With the analogy of pizza, the base is your silly reason, now add some embarrassing weird things as topping. “Here is a freshly baked lie in front of you.”
Lying as a skill was part of my personality. A retired assassin would still be aware of his surroundings and will always be armed. It will be a steep curve for me to be an honest man.
She said, “College days are about to end, go for placement”. I lied to myself ‘I am proficient in skills, i don’t need placement. I will go for the bigshots’
She said “Seek professional help, work on your anxiety issues” then again lied to myself “I don’t need any counselling, I just need an identity .
It is September now; I remember how I used to feel about my lone walk at the park by the lake. I wanted to lie on the ground near my bike. Grass would grow taller and wrap around my body. Dragging me towards the core of Earth. And hibernate till next spring. But whenever I remember the days with her it was never a happy moment of intimacy or sad thoughts of conflict. It was about the dreadful embarrassing and clumsy things that I did when offered a kiss or after coitus.
I would beg my doctor to remove the part of my memory when I said ‘Thank You’ after being offered a kiss or coitus. Maybe she did not want to make me aware. To this day I still cringe. Pray for me.
I received her text. It has been two months of silence from each other. She called to meet for the last time at the park by the lake. She always loved that place. Maybe she missed that place, and us.
This evening we met. I came and saw her leave. I came late and she waited for me patiently for too long. 40 min were long enough to make her leave the place. She always has been patient, too late to realise that. She left.
She left and I am lost.
I want this to be my last lie. This whole story is a lie. I tell stories to myself that build a belief of having something real in life. It is lying to oneself, but that is done honestly. I have never been in a relationship.
I believe I’ll get better in acting.
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