Each time I crib like housewives, everyone around me acts
like my husband telling me that the problem lies within me.
I have always been accused for not ‘trusting’. People.
Situations. Life. Love…etc. Sub-consciously, I think I started self-accusing
myself too.
Well, I am not the only person on the planet who has learnt
the lesson (the harder or the hardest way) of not so easily trusting others.
But probably I took this too seriously and made everything around me revolve
around it and be based at it. If Trustlessness is that strong, imagine how
Trust would be.
I thought of giving myself an opportunity of ‘being heard’. I
found that my ‘Trustlessness’ had been misunderstood. My Trustlessness had been
charged with a crime of discharging its duties. Because it always sounded
rude, it was framed.
Trustlessness can never exist without Trust. Your Trustlessness
in one is a result of your Trust in another. Each time I did NOT trust anyone, I
had been trusting myself. Each time I rejected an outsider, I had been
accepting a wider possibility of Life that I was choosing for myself. Each time
I withdrew myself from others, I had been walking a further inch towards myself.
Each time I disallowed others, I was allowing myself to fit in a superior role
in my own Life.
Every Trustlessness reflected back a larger amount of Trust
in myself and prepared me to direct, choreograph, write and play a larger role
of myself composed filmy Life.
P.S. But actually all the problems lie with Housewives.
P.P.S. Moms are exempt from such interpretations.
P.S. But actually all the problems lie with Housewives.
P.P.S. Moms are exempt from such interpretations.
Smart girls are the over thinkers, the insecure ones, the different ones. They know what the real world is like. They analyze every little thing in life. Why? To avoid getting hurt. To find happiness. They stay up at night trying to think about every possible situation to get through all problems. They think too much. They trust less people. Their insecurity proves their respect toward themselves. Of course they live away from a drama-filled life. Smart girls know their worth, now that's the ones worth keeping by your side.
ReplyDeleteFROM the besieged Ardea all in post,
ReplyDeleteBorne by the trustless wings of false desire,
Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host,
And to Collatium bears the lightless fire
Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire
And girdle with embracing flames the waist
Of Collatine's fair love, Lucrece the chaste.
……………………………………………
Beauty itself doth of itself persuade
The eyes of men without an orator;
What needeth then apologies be made,
To set forth that which is so singular?
……………………………………………….
Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame,
Thy private feasting to a public fast,
Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name,
Thy sugar'd tongue to bitter wormwood taste:
Thy violent vanities can never last.
How comes it then, vile Opportunity,
Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee?
…………………………………………………………………
The patient dies while the physician sleeps;
The orphan pines while the oppressor feeds;
Justice is feasting while the widow weeps;
Advice is sporting while infection breeds:
Thou grant'st no time for charitable deeds:
Wrath, envy, treason, rape, and murder's rages,
Thy heinous hours wait on them as their pages.
………………………………………………………………………..
Out, idle words, servants to shallow fools!
Unprofitable sounds, weak arbitrators!
Busy yourselves in skill-contending schools;
Debate where leisure serves with dull debaters;
To trembling clients be you mediators:
For me, I force not argument a straw,
Since that my case is past the help of law.
…………………………………………………………….
The little birds that tune their morning's joy
Make her moans mad with their sweet melody:
For mirth doth search the bottom of annoy;
Sad souls are slain in merry company;
Grief best is pleased with grief's society:
True sorrow then is feelingly sufficed
When with like semblance it is sympathized.
………………………………………………….
My body or my soul, which was the dearer,
When the one pure, the other made divine?
Whose love of either to myself was nearer,
When both were kept for heaven and Collatine?
Ay me! the bark peel'd from the lofty pine,
His leaves will wither and his sap decay;
So must my soul, her bark being peel'd away.
…………………………………………………………………
For men have marble, women waxen, minds,
And therefore are they form'd as marble will;
The weak oppress'd, the impression of strange kinds
Is form'd in them by force, by fraud, or skill:
Then call them not the authors of their ill,
No more than wax shall be accounted evil
Wherein is stamp'd the semblance of a devil.
…………………………………………………………………….
In her the painter had anatomized
Time's ruin, beauty's wreck, and grim care's reign:
Her cheeks with chaps and wrinkles were disguised;
Of what she was no semblance did remain:
Her blue blood changed to black in every vein,
Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed,
Show'd life imprison'd in a body dead.
……………………………………………………………………..
Thus ebbs and flows the current of her sorrow,
And time doth weary time with her complaining.
She looks for night, and then she longs for morrow,
And both she thinks too long with her remaining:
Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining:
Though woe be heavy, yet it seldom sleeps,
And they that watch see time how slow it creeps.
…………………………………………………………………….