Grant me my godforsaken right to see it however I want to see it, to deal with it in my own way, to vent, to be angry, to be frustrated, to be upset, to weep, and to finally accept it all. How many times do I have to tell you that what you say and do does not actually help? Your words go straight in, twist my guts, shatter whatever calm I may have left, and get me so furious with the whole situation until they blow it all out of proportion.

 

At 32, you’d think you know exactly what you want for your life and how you want it to all be; but what if what you want, or at least what you feel is an essential part(s) of it, is not actually happening? And may never even be? When do you tell yourself to just move on and find another “dream”? Or do you just linger on to the hope, to the idea, to the wishful-thinking, making way for the universe to see how much you want it and then maybe, just maybe, grant you that wish?

 

You know that if left alone, you can handle it better, but when almost everyone arounds you fixates on the idea and keeps drilling you about it – in many different aggravating ways – you know that it only makes it harder to accept. What if you accept that it could easily not happen but those around you can’t? No matter how much you say it, in however way – nicely, jokingly, subtly, bitchy – they just wouldn’t stop pushing.

 

I wish punching people in the face would be a tad bit more acceptable. How about just screaming at them so uncontrollably? No? You’ve got to give me something. If they can be that heartless, that inconsiderate, that bloody selfish thinking it’s their right to butt in your life that way, why isn’t it ok for me to SNAP at them? And no, I don’t want to get it all out elsewhere, I want to be able to get it out on them, causing me that stress because they deserve to feel bad about how they are making me feel with their comments and stupid suggestions.

 

The thing is, everything they say is everything I had already thought about, tried, explored, spent months researching, why do they think they had come up with an oh-so-brilliant idea, like they are some genius who could hand me the solution on a golden platter? What’s the reaction they are expecting “oooooh that makes sense; thank you. I owe you my life for letting me see that this an actual option”? 

 

I know they probably think they’re helping, but I don’t care what they think because you know what? If they would think a little harder, they would realise they are actually doing more damage than any good. If they give it an ounce of sincere thought, they would realise they are being a bunch of selfish grown ups who think they know it all when in fact, they know nothing about how they make us feel.

 

And then they wonder why I would rather spend time with animals and kids than all those silly know-it-all humans.

 

Dear God, I ask you to give me the patience to endure their load of crap, ridiculous “novelty” suggestions, condescending attitude, degrading comments, and the strength to manage my anger so as not to cause serious damage to their brains. Thank you.

Because of it all, because of how I’m allowing it all to get to me (yes, it is my fault that I’m allowing myself to be affected by all this societal BS), I would rather live out at sea for as long as I want and need to, in silence, with only my one other person and two (crazy but super entertaining) dogs. And of course all my imaginary life companions that listen to my mind and heart aches without useless philosophical comments.

Writer’s bonus: The Sound of Silence cover by Nouela.