Anyone who wants to know me

/spoiler alert: please keep out if you don’t want to know me/

<conversation starts> 
She: then?
Me: then….? then I’ll have food when I’m hungry , I started watching Olympics when I get bored , I sleep then in the middle of the night I get up . . . search for pills in darkness, I won’t find ‘me. I sit , I stare then I try to sleep
Then, I get up in morning just to make sure my mom thinks that I go to college. I do go to college, bunk most of the classes and sit around some corner bit like hiding…headphones on and a bakwas novel in my hand half opened, some sad songs and some pretty
I read until I’m hungry or bored
Then I go to canteen and wave at some pretending people, smile at some “– busy –in –their – own –life –“ people and say “hi”, “hello” to some who text me to ask how I’m and then turn the conversation to a pretty story of how fucked up is their lives from mine and dump all their miseries on me and seek help. And then I order a mountain dew and walk out of the canteen with it still smiling and waving at people
Then I receive some calls to suggest what are the good places for couples to hangout I cut the calls with a bye and ‘cya’, I take chocolates from some attention seekers and some rarely and partially good people and think I don’t need no more sweet things and give the same chocolates to some who needs a pat on their backs and to them who are pure sometimes
Then again headphones on to turn the incomplete pages of the same bakwas novel.
Then I come home , worry about results , listen to mom’s never ending ‘shikaayaths’ about my never clean room and I try to stop smirking at equally provoking taunts of dad . Then I go online, search good songs on YouTube and then while listening to songs I reply some people, nothing much we speak. . Just comparing of the magnitude of our fucked up lives and we try to hear some good things about ourselves from each other and sometimes we do speak funny and laugh
Then I upload some poems on social medias often and count how many “likes”, “loves” and “comments” I’ve got every half an hour or may be more frequent than that, I continue doing this for the next two days then I upload a picture, nothing different this time still counting how many likes and “wow” I’ve got to do the complex calculus and stuffs to come to a conclusion of average count of people who really likes me I continue this till my next upload
Skipping food once a day makes me fit and tiered enough to sleep early and for longer duration, I sleep early these days, early isn’t that early … around 12 may be 10 minutes added or subtracted and I think of the nights I wasted socializing and falling in love, of the nights I killed my sleep for some and smile, I do cry sometimes … is it girlish? Well I don’t care know body would know I cried the last night
Then I fall asleep…get up in the middle of the night , rarely I take dad’s migraine wala sleeping pills to help me sleep most likely on Sunday mornings when mom ain’t home , sleeping is fun 
So that’s my “THEN”
Oh wait did I forget to say that I text you “good morning” , “afternoon” and “good night , take care” texts everyday like I’m prescheduled and programmed ? And save all your new DPs and toggle them on the broken screen of my phone and then I think how much I love you and how much I never should have through every pretty song…
And then I think of people I love , not the kind of love that’s stereotyped but still the people I love , I think whether they love as much as I love them , I think whether they want me to love them or I’m just stuck loving them .
I think why I get ignored , I think whether I’m bad , I think whether there are genuine people , I think whether I’m weird, odd and irritating ,I think whether the people I try to help on my own hate me for what and who I’m… and I recall the times you said I over think
And then I say to myself I’m a fool and smile

ME: Right: D totally weird  <goes offline>

<conversation ends>

[I think whether I’m just another lost kid or whether I’m mentally sick or whether i just need attention and then I also think whether there’ll be anyone or anything that doesn’t just say “I’m there” but literally hold my hand and pat on my back with my favourite chocolate ]
ME: mom? Are you there ?
[then I realize she’s off to work already and all I need is a pill, sleeping is fun]

Thank you for being with me,                                                                

                                                                                                                              The weird dude


6 thoughts on ““YOUR’S, THE WEIRD DUDE””

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