Heal.
Heal yourself.
I’m asking you, please do.
I’m so insistent on this because only you can heal yourself. Not your role model, your favourite singer or band, your favourite actor, favourite friend…et cetera. Not your therapist. Not even your favourite pet.
That’s saying something.
Imagine you sulking around, and your puppy staring at you with shining eyes, big question marks held in them, and you say while sniffling, “No, Happy, you can’t help me, not even when your name prompts so and you’re practically the cutest breed around.”
Maybe he won’t exactly understand what you’re saying, but I’m sure he’ll pretty much get the idea. And he’ll leave you be.
Everyone else will abandon you too.
In that time, when the world leaves you alone, the trees all quieten down with their rustle, the birds stop chirruping, the ocean stops shifting, the people stop caring, and it feels like the earth has stopped moving too; in that time, heal. For God’s, (or whatever universal power you believe in), for Their sake, don’t spend those few moments sulking and weeping. Give love to yourself, give happiness.
“Because only you can heal yourself and absolutely no one else can.”
So…
I can almost feel the next thing coming. I can almost feel what you’re going to say next, and it is going to spill out from you with anger and because of pent-up frustration. So before you decide to type up something rude in the comment section about how I don’t understand anything, because if I did, I wouldn’t have been talking about the healing process this casually, please listen to these two words.
“I understand.”
Trust me, I do. Trust me, I know.
It’s not easy as it seems.
In that time, when the world leaves you alone, the trees all quieten down with their rustle, the birds stop chirruping, the ocean stops shifting, the people stop caring, and it feels like the earth has stopped moving too; in that time, heal. For God’s, (or whatever universal power you believe in), for Their sake, don’t spend those few moments sulking and weeping. Give love to yourself, give happiness.
“Because only you can heal yourself and absolutely no one else can.”
So…
I can almost feel the next thing coming. I can almost feel what you’re going to say next, and it is going to spill out from you with anger and because of pent-up frustration. So before you decide to type up something rude in the comment section about how I don’t understand anything, because if I did, I wouldn’t have been talking about the healing process this casually, please listen to these two words.
“I understand.”
Trust me, I do. Trust me, I know.
It’s not easy as it seems.
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| Because it’s necessary to give everything an aesthetic value. |
It’s not easy to heal.
It takes a hell lotta time and effort and sometimes people are so used up and burnt out already that they give up after reaching only halfway, before arriving at the destination.
And they don’t get to see the happy end they deserved and could’ve gotten after all.
And I know how you feel, if you are truly broken, that this idea may not help you at all. This stupid, 365-day-long journey might not give any positive result. You have questions and maybe I’m not doing a good job at providing the answers.
Forgive me, we all are broken a little from the inside.
And maybe you think you won’t heal.
Heck, maybe you won’t heal. And maybe I’ll just end up becoming one among the millions who have tried.
What good will it do? You ask harshly. What good does it ever do?
At least we’ll try, I answer gently. At least we’ll tell the world tales about our expeditions into the freaky world out there. We might fail, but we might be called courageous.
But then you have another complaint from me, from God, from everyone else on the planet. Is courageousness always remembered? Is it always prioritized? Doesn’t the world work in a crueller manner?
But fellow traveller, a dead hero gets more appreciated than an alive sidekick. In all honesty, that is the truth.
People do remember. Those who truly matter, do remember you. They think about you frequently even after you leave, but this time, what was once their matter of tender nostalgia is replaced by tears of loss.
Trust me, I genuinely want to help.
Because this is the era of healing. Look around yourself and you’ll see scars on their arms, fingers picking on the scabs, eyes severely hurt and bitterly cold, therefore tough. You’ll see them shedding their sorrows from their eyes and then quickly wiping away the traces, you’ll see them receiving all hate and accepting that they don’t deserve love. You’ll see them prioritizing things that don’t matter and neglecting the ones that do.
You’ll see their bittersweet smile, and get fooled by the facade until you watch them crumble right in front of your eyes.
And then you’d want to help.
You’d want to do something to make this world a better place.
Or maybe you’d find out, realise now, that you are one of those people too. You are no different. You were already damaged; you just weren’t able to look at the wound because it had long gone numb. You couldn’t find it until someone came and told you that it was there indeed.
And now you desperately want to heal.
Welcome to the club.
And they don’t get to see the happy end they deserved and could’ve gotten after all.
And I know how you feel, if you are truly broken, that this idea may not help you at all. This stupid, 365-day-long journey might not give any positive result. You have questions and maybe I’m not doing a good job at providing the answers.
Forgive me, we all are broken a little from the inside.
And maybe you think you won’t heal.
Heck, maybe you won’t heal. And maybe I’ll just end up becoming one among the millions who have tried.
What good will it do? You ask harshly. What good does it ever do?
At least we’ll try, I answer gently. At least we’ll tell the world tales about our expeditions into the freaky world out there. We might fail, but we might be called courageous.
But then you have another complaint from me, from God, from everyone else on the planet. Is courageousness always remembered? Is it always prioritized? Doesn’t the world work in a crueller manner?
But fellow traveller, a dead hero gets more appreciated than an alive sidekick. In all honesty, that is the truth.
People do remember. Those who truly matter, do remember you. They think about you frequently even after you leave, but this time, what was once their matter of tender nostalgia is replaced by tears of loss.
Trust me, I genuinely want to help.
Because this is the era of healing. Look around yourself and you’ll see scars on their arms, fingers picking on the scabs, eyes severely hurt and bitterly cold, therefore tough. You’ll see them shedding their sorrows from their eyes and then quickly wiping away the traces, you’ll see them receiving all hate and accepting that they don’t deserve love. You’ll see them prioritizing things that don’t matter and neglecting the ones that do.
You’ll see their bittersweet smile, and get fooled by the facade until you watch them crumble right in front of your eyes.
And then you’d want to help.
You’d want to do something to make this world a better place.
Or maybe you’d find out, realise now, that you are one of those people too. You are no different. You were already damaged; you just weren’t able to look at the wound because it had long gone numb. You couldn’t find it until someone came and told you that it was there indeed.
And now you desperately want to heal.
Welcome to the club.
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| Journal Entry of Day One |
What makes you happy? Are you doing enough of it?
Who makes you happy? Are you spending enough time with them? Are you telling them enough times how much they matter? Are you frequently going to them and kissing their cheek sweetly and when they ask you the reason for it, you say:
“Because you make me happy.”
Are you making good memories? Are you making sure not to compromise your happiness of today for your aspirations for tomorrow? Do you often spend your time as I do, lost in wishful daydreams and terrorizing nightmares, and when you, at last, come out of it after someone has shaken you awake, do you realise with a start that you missed a part of the clock?
I have made a mistake, this same mistake. Perhaps not once, not even twice, but many times already. I have thought about an awesome future and told myself that I’ll live it one day, and then after sitting there for a while, usually fantasizing about an attractive life, I realise how much of today I had just ignored.
Just. Ignored. Life.
In the Lawbooks of Destiny, this seems like the biggest crime you can ever commit.
And I don’t want to be the person constantly being held in court for this. After some time, even the jury becomes irritated.
As I was coming to terms with these negligences, I was also coming to realise the condition of the world outside. And I wanted to change them, make them better. But no matter how determined my heart is, no matter how big and kind my motive is, I, a total stranger, sitting in some remote area of the dying planet, won’t be able to do all the work myself.
I need help, and together, we might make a difference, huh?
Are you willing to?
Are you willing to work towards healing yourself?
Think about it.
Who makes you happy? Are you spending enough time with them? Are you telling them enough times how much they matter? Are you frequently going to them and kissing their cheek sweetly and when they ask you the reason for it, you say:
“Because you make me happy.”
Are you making good memories? Are you making sure not to compromise your happiness of today for your aspirations for tomorrow? Do you often spend your time as I do, lost in wishful daydreams and terrorizing nightmares, and when you, at last, come out of it after someone has shaken you awake, do you realise with a start that you missed a part of the clock?
I have made a mistake, this same mistake. Perhaps not once, not even twice, but many times already. I have thought about an awesome future and told myself that I’ll live it one day, and then after sitting there for a while, usually fantasizing about an attractive life, I realise how much of today I had just ignored.
Just. Ignored. Life.
In the Lawbooks of Destiny, this seems like the biggest crime you can ever commit.
And I don’t want to be the person constantly being held in court for this. After some time, even the jury becomes irritated.
As I was coming to terms with these negligences, I was also coming to realise the condition of the world outside. And I wanted to change them, make them better. But no matter how determined my heart is, no matter how big and kind my motive is, I, a total stranger, sitting in some remote area of the dying planet, won’t be able to do all the work myself.
I need help, and together, we might make a difference, huh?
Are you willing to?
Are you willing to work towards healing yourself?
Think about it.
Until next time.
~Stay safe. Stay positive. Stay kind.
