Hauntings

I just recently watched a series named Haunting of the hill house. I thought, like any other horror series or movie, it will be funny! I would have a laugh in my mind for every scene that’s supposed to be scary, and move on to something else. Well, I guess not. I am still stuck in the series even though I have finished watching it.

Some imaginary story illustrated in the imaginary world of TV and Film can sometimes have that effect on your mind. You know sometimes… sometimes you are watching a sad scene and tears start flowing down your cheeks without your eyes noticing. And sometimes your heart smiles without your lips noticing. It’s just all an imaginary world that sucks you into it. Lets you play a part in it where you watch it with your eyes while your heart and mind start their work. The work of relating your own memories, fears, guilt and emotions to the world your eyes are watching. But can some series or film be that relate-able that you start living it? Every day, 24/7? Or have you been living it for-ever.. even before you watched it?

I want to write about it. People ask me how was the series and I say oh it’s amazing, I loved it. When no one else seem to like it that much. I guess it’s all in your mind how you take the things you see. Whether you feel the things you see or just watch them. And sometimes, something, out of the blue, triggers your deepest most dark self that you hide behind so many walls. Like demons who lived in that haunted house. When a person dies in that house, he lives there forever. Exactly like every emotion in your mind. And heart. Emotions also die but they live there, inside you forever. They haunt you in the most mysterious ways but they don’t scare you because it’s not a scary movie, you know. It’s you. It’ not supposed to scare you. It’s just yourself. Dead but breathing. The self that you killed thinking you’ll get rid of it. But it’s still there, caged forever inside you. And it WILL haunt you.

I have lived every character while watching it. I have been to the house so many times. I have felt so much pain that could cause the stones to fall from the sky and smash windows of human logic. I have built so many walls around me that no one could enter and i thought i was safe behind those walls but in reality, i was in more danger than ever. I have been terrified of the dark shadows that haunted me, shadows that were only my own reflection in the mirror of time.  I have felt fear, the kind where you see something approaching you, something really bad, but you can’t move. You can’t do anything to save yourself. And that bad thing, it gets closer. And that fear, it gets stronger. So strong that your heart stops beating. And.. I have felt love that poisons you to death.

And I… I wander through the house for hours, with madness that makes me sane. And then I put this madness aside whenever it gets just a little weaker, with every voice approaching me from the outside world. The more I listen to the world outside, the weaker this madness gets. And then I am out, again. In the world… to conquer it. But that house, that dark haunted house, it stays inside me. With it’s firm walls and sensibly shut doors. With silence that sits on the floors while waiting for me, with it’s back against those firm walls.

And me? I promise myself never to go back to the house again. The same promise, that I have broken a hundred times before.

 

 

Nah, that’s Impossible

From this…

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To this….0

Everything changed, while I traveled from that to this…

So I used to hear a phrase, ‘the word impossible is not in my dictionary’ and I used to think, what kind of a crappy dictionary do these people own? I mean, there are a lot of impossible things in this world, no? You can not fly like a bird, can not just reach out and touch the sky, can not pass one day without shedding out tears. It’s just impossible. I defined impossible.

But turns out, the word ‘impossible’ somehow got erased from my dictionary as well. At least how my mind used to define impossible sure is changed. If I was the same girl who would sit on the desk in that first photo, the girl sitting on the desk in that second photo would have been a marvelous strange character of some piece of fiction.

Now that I sit on that second desk in real, I can’t stop thinking about that sad, miserable little girl who would when ride her daddy’s or later husband’s car never by any chance think that she would own her own car one day. Who would when spend her daddy’s or husband’s money to buy stuff for herself never think that she would buy stuff with her own self-earned money one day. And, her fingers which would press these buttons on the keyboard just to let her sadness and pain out would ever write programming code for UK’s largest travel agents. Still sounds funny to me, I swear. I never thought I would achieve all this, but I sure used to dream it like a dirty little fantasy.

In this short period I have made my parents proud a couple of times, I think. At least they show me off to other people and that’s a big thing to me. As a matter of fact, I have proved it to the world around me that yeah I can do something on my own, that I am capable of doing more than what they thought of me. And believe me, they thought very little. It’s even a little fun to look at their faces when they find out things about me. I feel proud. I have proved myself that maybe, when I used to think I am worthless, it wasn’t so true after all.

Big achievements is not a thing, it’s the teeny tiny steps you take towards those achievements that matter. My achievements may not sound much to you, you may think this woman has gone crazy, but these are big for me. I know how much I have struggled, and how ready I am to struggle a hundred times more.

You may not even read this rant of mine that sounds like I am in heaven , or that I am high. Same thing. I am not. I am the same, just a little more plastered on the wounds than you expected me to be. However, it’s still a long way to go.