Stupid decisions (ft. A.G.)

Who are you

So he lives his entire life under a sky he cannot touch, and one day he finally looks up and realises the weather isn’t random—someone is choosing the storms.

God is a cruel cruel being/concept. He takes away everything. The comcept that we are children of God is fucked up. Because mot parent would treat their children the way God does. Parents have some form of attachment atleast. Parents will be okay even if the child takes them for granted and still continue providing for them. But God, that fucked up being will take away everything from a person who has done nothing but serve Him their entire life. The concept of faith is so fucked up? Based off of fear, it tells people to believe in something non-existent, to behave a certain way and do a certain set of practices to get the fruit you've been wishing for. It all sounds so simple, doesn't it? But no! You do every fucking thing, all in order to get that one thing you've ever wanted, and then God takes it away from you in the cruelest ways- either he never gives it to even after working your ass off for it, or he gives it to you, makes you believe its permanent and lets you be happy only to snatch it away when you start dwelling in the permanence of it. And those faith-messengers- they'll tell you it wasn't meant to be and God has written something bigger for you. Fuck it! He's just a cruel manipulative being who never gives what he promises and always asks for this one shitty thing- 'sabr'. And mind it, its not all a test. It is not all a test!!! The being who toom away everything from you is NOT testing you by sending people back in your life. No! He's just trying to see you fucking disturbed. He's gonna dwell in your insanity for as long as he can! And he'll pretend to still call for you. He'll put on that mask and manipulate you still, enjoying your suffering. He'll slowly take away everything, one by one- your family, your friends, your hopes, your dreams, your love, your health and eventually your life. And religion is just a facade for us to cope with this shit. When my brother died and the pandit declared he attained 'moksh'- as in he won't be born again on this Earth and he's one with God again- everyone was happy, sad obviously but still happy that his suffering has ended. I cried the most that day of all days. God took him away. He has him. He took him away from me, from us. What do I do with the fact that his suffering has ended? Was this really suffering? Being with his family, being with his siblings, being with friends, laughing, crying, making others laugh?? Was all this fucking suffering??? Was he sufferinggg????? No the fuck he was not! God didn't need to take him away but he did! He fucking did because that sadist being can never bear to see one too happy. Especially a pure soul. My family did nothing wrong, sang his praises and did all the right things, fulfilled all their duties to Him and to others in their lives, were never mean to anyone in their life. And yet this is how he fucking rewards them.

I love the wind when it blows across my face, my hair fluttering back like waves. But I get annoyed at the same wind when it blows in the opposite direction, my hair in my face, sometimes I still love it though.

She was soiled under a pile of dust she had dug up. It was warm and the weight perfectly balanced above her. She'd go out every morning, in search of a new house, a more attractive one, a socially acceptable one. And return back every night, somewhat sad and somewhat content about not settling for an uncozy imperfect attractive house. One morning she didn't want to leave, she had such days when she was tired of hoping and just wanted to enjoy the perfectly balanced weight on top of her even though she despised it. She enjoyed despising on some days. But this day she heard a voice, a voice that sounded cozy. She reluctantly crawled out and didn't even have to look around. It was right there, a house perfectly cozy and perfectly balanced to handle the weight of dust. It could also slowly turn the dust into feathers, feathers she could use for her flight later. It was perfect... too perfect. She thought to herself, how could I find such a perfect house so easily, without even wandering. A few minutes of reluctance before she tiptoed in the house. A few minutes and then she was happy, scared but happy. Then one day the wall cracked, a little dust fell into her eyes, burning her as she was now slightly used to no weight or dust. "Huh, I can handle a little dust. This house is perfect afterall." Except it wasn't perfect. She could see the true colour of the walls as they cracked slowly. Soon she started mending the walls, plastering them with her soul. "I can fix it. The house is perfect. Everything has flaws, doesn't it?" Soon enough the house didn't stand on its own, not even at the expense of her soul. No dust was converted to feathers. Now she lay in her new house,soulless, under an imperfectly balanced pile of dust and broken pieces of walls. But she couldn't voice her despair, couldn't complain out loud. The house had given her so much after all. "The house was perfect, it was me who didn't fit."

The stars seem brighter, and more in number day by day. Its like as your birthday is approaching, they're getting more prominent and I notice them everyday. That one memory.. I never knew it would stay so significant after a point of time. I miss you so much that it physically paralyzes my body partially, it feels like I'm dragging myself through every moment of every day. Nothing seems as important anymore..