Mentally Stranded

I had a mild form of social anxiety kick in today upon finding a party invitation in my inbox. Needless to say, I panicked. And I’m still in two minds about it. This has been happening since forever and I still don’t know why. It’s not the fear of being judged, per se. More like stress about the how, what, where and why of it. A party or any similar social gathering just seems like too much effort. Even if it’s not, I make sure to put in that much of effort and energy by overthinking about it. Not healthy, at all.
Sometimes I wonder what’s going to happen when I grow up because partying is a part and parcel of life in the twenty first century. In order to be socially present, viable and acceptable, you need to socialise on such platforms (Instagram and Twitter are clearly not enough). Since I don’t have any definitive answers, I just wonder for a few seconds and then drop the subject right there.
Really glad they don’t have a ‘How To Party’ course at that university somewhere that’s offering the ‘How to Selfie’ course. (brb crying)

Usually I talk to my mom or someone about it. Just let it out of my system and then decide on what has to be done but today I decided to pen down some really horrible poetry instead.
Well, horrible because I don’t feel like it’s smooth enough but it made me feel a lot better so I’m just going to go ahead and share it with you guys.


You’ve seen that blue dress I adorn
And the mascara and other
Varied makeup I’ve worn.
And the way I saunter
In and out of your sight
Casually strutting like a
Peacock in diminishing light –
transforming
I’m suddenly not me
Reduced to the blaring rhythm I see
Surrounded by a montage of forced highs
I’m a river that has always
Just managed to flow by
Which, with its pulse,
Carries a thousand questions
That remain unanswered
Behind crass unopened doors
That store
My shivers, contemplations and whines
About why that light hurts me
Even as it perfectly shines –
Blinding me
All the optimism
It does erase
It could be a phase, I think
But if only it were
For I’ve breathed nineteen years
In hope of it being
a discrepancy
an error.

 

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6 thoughts on “Mentally Stranded

  1. I just realised, I feel the same way!
    By the way, I love your poem. I love how you beautifully crafted it into words.

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