Talking walls and the pole star

So, the memory of this brings back the memory of everything, everything. It was after this, that I transformed from a sweet & smart me to a rude & insane me.

The 24th brought me something unprecedented; something I didn’t see coming because of the fog of fear, of superiority, and a belief that it’ll hurt me anyway so why care? But right now it’s about that one thing which changed the dynamics of everything.

After this incident, I knew that my stars weren’t faulty, they were cursed; all I needed was “a friend indeed” the kind of friend that I didn’t have.

One kept asking me, Why I did do what I didn’t?

Another hit me with, Why I didn’t when I should have?

The friends I had that time were beautiful stars of a beautiful night but the only thing that diminished their beauty was that I could count them on my fingers. But except for the few stars of my infinite sky, I had other true companions too.  The only real companion after you are behind that closed room is “the walls”. The best part of this companion? Well, the walls said, “We will never judge you & listen to you.”

The best part is that they’ll say exactly what you expect them to; they’ll be vacant to absorb all your thoughts and still will make you feel there’s a lot more that you can pour out on them or paint on them.

Sad Blues, fierce red, hope as a pink cloud, regression in black or white lies, whatever you are going to throw up at them they’ll accept it. Yes, the walls. Ultimate listeners. And I needed a friend like a wall, one who can protect me and my emotions,

But I lived in a world where they did give me the walls but no roof!!

And I felt it hard.

 They asked me “Are you good? Are you fine? Are you okay?” when they knew the answer would be “No, I'm not”; and no one bothered to ask me how I was. Listen to what I, myself felt, what I was like.

But just like seeing a meteor shower from behind the clouds, I saw one pole star which I thought would (bottom line- help me, and highly expected-) care right.

Every star has its light, its history, and its own life, but the pole star is something unique. A Pole star in the sky is like an intellectual badass in the class of common students. And I trusted this polestar, hoping and expecting, that maybe it would say something I wanted to hear and wouldn’t say what I didn’t want to.

So, I told it the secret or the truth about how I felt,

“I have started talking to the walls, somehow,” I said.

And all I expected from this pole star was that, it would guide me, maybe just tell me the difference between the differences. Expected to hear just an “It’s alright. You’re not insane”  from it. And here at this point, I remembered,

“Expectations kill.”

The reply from the other hand was, “Text me when you are done talking to the walls”

Maybe the P.S. thought humor would help me out. But humor for a hurting person about his/her hurting is like washing the deep wounds of a sailor, who loves the ocean, by the salty water itself; wounds caused by the ocean waves are like cravings on a sculpture.

And that shattered me. Shattered the already shattered me, into fine glass particles.  What hurts more after your negligence led to some unforeseen bad?

It’s someone else’s negligence towards your all-seen bad.

When writers write about a protagonist so obsessed with a book and its last sentence, it’s called an epic novel that made you cry buckets; but when you find a real being talking to walls it’s not abnormal and humorous dear, it's life.

Talking to walls isn’t insanity; maybe only talking to them is.

And that shattering of glass into sand-small particles made it sparkle more. Before the glass perceived the image of a person in front of it but now you’ll not be able to even hold every bit of that sand-small particles in your fist, completely.

For the pole star, it wasn’t its fault. It still shines unbiased by my opinions, shines and points to the direction it felt right; the star wasn’t faulty. It was me.

I looked for a sun on a night. The sun is a star, definitely but the pole star wasn’t the sun I needed.

“You need to find yourself, not your sun, stars, or moon.” Truly said.

But I was looking for myself in the night, under the pole star with a mirrored body.

Now, I walk under the sun and it's burning light with a jar full of sand-small mirrored particles because I know I don’t need to find “myself”; just being able to see everything clear and bright will help me find everything, everything.