It’s often being said that life gives you a second chance. I often wonder if it’s true for everyone or are there selected few. Some people do get too many chances in life that it’s nearly impossible to choose & some don’t get any. And does life only depend on chance? That makes for a very sorry answer.
I’ve noticed that it’s easier for me to relate with something written in a book. Real life stories can be damn horrifying. Many a time, they don’t even make sense. It would have been so much better, if one doesn’t feel or think. The world & more than the world, the stories are way too scary. And some questions are bothering me right now & I don’t have any answer. For instance, do we have a choice or this too is a make believe sort of a thing? Are we in a state of denial when we tell ourselves that we actually have a choice? Is it something just like freedom which is still entangled in chains?
It’s damn easy to find some answers. We have heard that the best way to judge person is to check out how he/she talks to his juniors or menial stuff. One can be nice to his equals & superiors. In the case of superiors, there cannot be much choice though. Anyhow when someone’s being mean, is there a possibility that he is hurt or is he simply rude or does he love to exploit his authority?
I have been thinking that there is a difference between a sad life & a bad one. However, it’s easier to confuse one with another. An amalgam would definitely be a very complicated life. Nevertheless, getting the right answer is the most difficult task, so to speak.
Ever since I have read Michaela’s story, I haven’t been at peace. This person is alive. I know that much. Her mom hasn’t given up hope in all these 21 years. I just couldn’t help thinking what I was doing in 88. I was in school myself & I had loads of fun with all my weird friends. That is one year that I don’t like to think about though. I also don’t like to think about 92. But sometimes that year bothers me so much that my doctor asks me to take meds for at least 10 days. That’s the only time when I can’t say no to anti-depressants. I need them as I haven’t been able to face the torture of being stuck. But I’m not in a position to say it’s hell to be stuck somewhere, because actually I do not know what is hell. Those who do, I sometimes write about them.
Anyway, it’s funny that I cut down a god-damn date every day on the calendar, but you know I have stopped counting the years & that day it dawned on me that it has been 21 years & that 21 is a freaking long time.
