I cannot read the news anymore. I cannot see my twitter feed. I am tired. I listen to the kids and whether they hold hope or are so disillusioned, they wholeheartedly believe this world requires them to be heartless – I am heart broken. I have lost faith. I have lost the faith I had in Ahmedabad perhaps. Perhaps time and experiences have led me to this point where everything feels futile. My own tryst with kindness and honesty and being true to myself has failed me. My incapacity to be kind to others while being true to myself and what I believe in and my capacity to hurt another by the things I say or do in search for this true self, is distasteful to me. It sucks all my motivation. It paralyses me. Can’t move on, can’t change anything, can’t dream – what should I dream of? All possibilities of my dreams have been disproved, wrecked by humanity’s shortcomings, my shortcomings.
I think before I saw myself as different from the world, as kinder than the world, as more thoughtful than the world, now that I realise that no matter how thoughtful, I can cause so much hurt and pain, I see no difference between me and the world. So I feel I have no real legitimacy to say anything about anyone. Everything I say out loud about anyone seems reductive and not nuanced enough to me. But then what is nuanced enough? You can never control what a person will read into what you say or what you write. You can’t really control what hurts a person either or how much. So what are you going to do? What am I going to do? This is mostly what has led me to have a very small group of friends – seeing the best in them and believing they are trying has always been important. I need to fully respect them and understand their processes so as to have an idea of their deepest internal processes and when I see that I know they try.
I see glimpses of this in people I don’t know that well. I suppose I know that if I knew everyone’s internal processes, I’d know everyone is trying. It is partially knowing this that makes leaving and moving on so hard. Giving up feels so harsh when you believe someone is doing the best they can, that they are struggling, that they are flawed but they are human – products of the inadequacies of this world. Like me. I sense that accepting that about the world and loving it anyway is part of the healing, and perhaps loving oneself too?