When was the last time you wanted to rewind things
To the way they used to be... like on a cassette tape, rewind
Back to that part of the song you liked...
It's been years since I have gotten emotionally immersed
In someone but yes The past couple of weeks have become
An emotional rollercoaster that has brought me to the
Ups and oblivion of being cared for and given attention
And held special by someone
.... to the pain and scathing remarks and hurtful words
Hurled by not only that special someone but by my own
Actions and words towards him... because I felt
Losing him would make me lose myself...
Such an investment that is hard to capitulate and predict;
This thing called fatal love.
I'm aware and am apologetic of everything and of course
Guilty of many things...
I guess i am just waiting for some sort of closure
But I guess not... closure for me is defeat... but yes
We fall, we fail, we come back..
But the emotional wreckage, hard to fathom and take..
For the moment I will try live life in full speed and
Just forget about things.. because things make us
Remember joys and highs we miss...
I am sorry...i know fuck my sorry's if i keep
Comitting the same mistakes over and over again..
But I fell hard....for the guy, I am unapologetic about
I thought it was impossible to have a better life than Anthony Bourdain. But his final bittersweet gift just knocked me on my ass with the stark reminder that adventure, love, prosperity, prestige…anything we aspire to at all…is really just the currency we use to buy the four things that really matter: dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins. Realizing that even that kiss that melts your heart… only melts it because those four fairy godmothers waved their magic wands and turned your brain into a freakin princess. But if our brain hits us with a really shitty exchange rate, if suddenly winning that Academy Award only buys us a day’s ration of serotonin, then how the hell are we supposed to stock up for our whole lives? That Anthony Bourdain can stand on the highest mountain and feel nothing but a desire to move toward oblivion is all I need to kick me in the ass and ask the most important question, how’s my exchange rate? What can I do to get more joy out of everyhting I’m presented with, big or small? How does anyone dor that? I guess there begins one’s lifelong quest for God, psychedelic drugs, transcendental meditation, or whatever the hell else you need to do to bring true value to the external pleasures of the world. Anything that promises, not pleasure, but perspective. There's a good case to be made that those are the things worth seeking first, before even love and success. Because watching my little boy flood his brain with happiness because he found a cool stick on the lawn is all the evidence I need that “how you experience” is so much more important than “what you experience.” - SEAN CARTER
- Rajarshi Bhattacharya, Brahmin by birth, Atheist by logic Answered March 26,2018 - Upvoted by Abhimanyu Saxena, Co founder at InterviewBit There is this prostitute that lives down the road from our village. Everyone knows her as nashto meye (wasted woman). Whenever you cross her home, you can find some lewd teenagers shouting obscene comments, and laughing hysterically. Some of the “higher castes” don't even take that route, they avoid the “proximity” to such sin. She seldom gets out at daytime, because she's chased, whistled at, even manhandled sometimes; and the local police also supports the goons. She tried to file a case once, and they fined her for being indecent. She's the laughing stock and the butt of any joke in the evening meetings of both men and women.
But also, she has two kids, a beautiful boy and a lovely girl. She sends them to school. She never lets them into her 'workroom'. She keeps them healthy and fit. She never misses a parents-teachers' meeting. I saw her in the market once, and I could see one of the roadside sabziwalas touch her feet and call her Ma (mother)! Apparently she'd helped the man when his daughter was dying of illness. Her home is always clean, and though no one visits her, everyone is always welcome for a glass of cold water and a fruit; it's sometimes a mango, or a lichi, atleast a banana!
I call her Didi. My parents don't know this, but I have visited her since I was very young. She's closer to me than most of my relatives. I have seen her facing discrimination, assault, insult and even physical abuse, but I never saw one drop of tear shedding from her eye. After I got my job, I tried to offer her some money, but she just pressed my cheeks and said, “E lorai tor noy babu, e amake ekai lorte habe (This isn't your fight, my son. I have to fight this alone)”. She always smiles, she's always happy, and she lives life with a steely determination that I haven't seen anywhere else.
Respect every profession, because every profession is a battle against the World-a merciless, cruel judgemental World that we have to face every damn day of our life-a battle to survive.
One of the most beautiful narratives I have ever encountered on the world wide web, Angel is a symbol of all of us, our struggles, our pains, our little happinesses, our eccentricities, our needs, our attempts at temporary joys, the deep hollow within our souls, our beauty, our illusion, self-destruction and the forces that surround and shape us ....
The biggest mistake many transsexuals make in whatever profession they end up in is they enslave themselves to the needs, wants and caprices of their family. Parasitism is inherent in many transwomen's families. There is a sense of entitlement by family to have, to possess, to acquire more of whatever their transsexual daughter earns or has... because there is a general attitude that they have tolerated and in some way accepted her lifestyle and THEREFORE they should be rewarded for the tolerance, and for not kicking her out or for taking her back if she ever was kicked out before. This is one of the hollow in the transsexual woman's soul. She is only accepted for WHAT she can contribute, not because she used to be their SON, their blood. She will need to buy acceptance and reintroduction and even respect because she is deemed a black sheep when she decided to become transsexual!!!!
As transsexual I have never glorified myself with the illusion that I am woman... because close-minded Society and the Establishment will never look at me as one. There certainly are a few exceptions of men who put us on a pedestAL, who adore and worship us, who obssess over us......but even those exceptions tend to think we are feminised creatures, not authentic.... ersatz not genuine.... and I've proven this over and over to myself that even the most stunned, adoring and worshipping fan can turn into a deranged and crazed persona with scathing and acidic descriptions when provoked, such as when an Indian person told me I used my smelly backside to bring pleasure to men and that I suck cock and that I was not a woman so why should my gifts be commensurate to theirs....etcetera etcetera...
This and many more reasons will always strengthen my position on whether men who love or chase trans really are worth our time or should we consider ourselves solitary souls for the rest of our lives. Watch this short film and you will see why we disdain the characters outside and even inside our circles and how sometimes in the end we all have to fend for ourselves.... alone and solitary...