Open For Discussion

Everywhere you go, some sort of discussion will follow. It's like an inseparable phenomenon these days. People just can't resist it . Wherever some bunch of people manage to find a place to stand and breathe together, they buckle up and wage a war... with their verbal torpedoes.

Everybody have a opinion. Each and everything is open for discussion, new rule in the book of human survival. Everybody knows something about someone and he/she can't afford to stomach it much longer and have to blurt  it out over someone or at someplace. Desperate times, desperate actions.. Are we lost so badly in our attic of minds that there's no sense of solace in there. Is it only filled with all sorts of grunge and grudge ?

You talk much when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

We cannot survive a day without texting or talking or stalking(on social media) about other people. There's have to have a discussion whether verbal or cerebral. We are impotent to shut it off. If a girl next door got a new haircut it's just out of our wits to not to comment on it. Our heads are full of dilettantish and shoddy commentary and all it seeks is a reek of a crack in time where we can just fork out our own little piece of apprise.

on my way, I

wanted to be alone

from the chatters

that were going on

didn't wanna be a part

daily rituals of unneeded plots

that they set

of baiting others

upsetting whole nine yards

with their own upset

people who know me

they know a lot, all

recourses and resorts

rises and falls

I'm gauged, for every footprint

that I make, not for mine

but for other's sake, they

might not know or favor an ignore

heavy toll that it makes

as my unsteady castle shakes

why do you have to say it, annotate it

why do you have to print it out loud

this and that, more and more, why to make

a memoriam of every single chore

why, where, how and what

why white is white

and how dark is dark

why he's fat, how can he

drive such a fancy car

how can that lady have so much power ?

I sat for a while, tried to think - why's that we are so worried about what's happening to others. Why this discussion feel so burdensome and why it bothers so much. Why is this constant inner struggle for fighting someone else's demons...
I listen to Keane...

Oh simple thing where have you gone?

I'm getting old and I need something to rely on

So tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

Fit right in

It's funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality.

~Rick Riordan

I don't know if I'd fit right in

there's this spot that's missing

I look out to see, people hanging out in their cliques

talking in codes, walking in a pattern round and round

they keep on doing that, and I feel like

I'm just an alien, peeking in form outside

trying to make out the contours, on a recon mission

checking whether I'd fit right in

we exist, all together on same plane

but, there's this rift that separates us

I keep going back to thinking "what's missing"

I guess we'll never know

in the midst of webs of complexity from

which human mind is made

it's like you take a shovel to dig deep

but how deep is the fact that's missing

That conscious thought of enormous void

you feel, you tried hard to fill

so many times with so many tools

from where it came and how far it goes

you seem them busy in their work

while you are lost in your own

and before you can realize eons are gone

Rift is still there

and I guess it'll always be

it's better if you fit right in

and it'll do fine if you don't

as people are those jigsaw puzzles

where some pieces are always missing

STRANGERS, are they ??

I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine them, and imagine that they must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it's true I'm here, and I'm just as strange as you. ― Frida Kahlo

Are we all so different 

or somewhere, 

at some levels we are 

just the same. 

Variations added

just to confuse us..because

beneath the melanin, 

apparatus.... just the same. 

Ideas differ, peculiarities do exist 

even roads we take are different.

But, someone is always there 

with whom vibrations, perfectly match. 

Are we all not dreamers 

We all are, achievers. 

Are we all not sad, or in a way 

are we all not mad ??

After hot, there is winter cool,

within us there's a wise, a fool. 

Few emotions we can never tame.. 

Because, we're just the same. 

I realize, we are not so different..

a misguided concept we grow up with

We all need love, 

We all care for friends, because

we're just the same.