being a poet- 2
I was going through my old poems and one thing caught my eye. I write a poem on every crush i've ever had since I started poetry.
Sto-rini-31
Hear me out, its just as much cringe it is to you as it is
to me if not more. The fact that I would leave such apparent, obvious clues
distributed evenly from beginning to end and I remember who it was about
immediately, does not make me happy or proud. Well, not immediately.
I would be reading a poem, clearly a poem about being heart-broken
for being rejected by a love I have grown over the years with such passion
unknown to the mankind and I’d leave a tiny obvious real life line and suddenly
it hits me that it was about a 2 week crush on a celebrity who cameo’d in a
show I was watching at the time. The heartbreak? Well, it was that he wouldn’t become
a permanent cast member.
It doesn’t stop there. Back in school I had plenty of
crushes, alas I was, just a teenage girl.
I would read a poem about fighting battles as astronauts to
get to the galaxy of you from the galaxy of me but realise that we are farther
than stars emotionally and will always be that way. And the poem is about a
tiny crush on a guy I joked with ONCE.
Is this sabotage?
You have to understand, I have never acted upon any of these
crushes, my only goal from the beginning is to make content out of my emotions-
I mean find a healthy way to process and express my feelings haha. Yk. Haha.
I made it my mission to write the poem when I’m already high
on the emotion and ‘love’. And I was really proud of it. The day after I complete
my beautiful creation straight from the core of my heart, when I see the person,
it is about, all my feelings immediately get discharged from my system. Genuinely.
All the stargazing in the beautiful night fall, feeling of
the breezy tide on a summer day, wishing on the stars in the night sky for our ‘love’
to be fruitful, - all of that- just pff, gone.
That’s when I had this mind-blowing realisation of art and
poetry.
Lies.
Or cutely, exaggeration.
I exaggerated 100 times of what I’ve actually felt and when
faced with the reality, all the castles dismantled to cement and pebbles.
For one thing, it was harmless. But it did sort of affect how
I process my feelings (on anything).
Something happens- I have a reactional emotion- I process it
by exaggerating it a 100 times- write a poem- read it the next morning- realise
I’ve exaggerated it a bit too much- minimise it to the grain of sand- box it
away because it was a petty thing.
Ok maybe a little harm.
The problem is, I still do it, in the name of creation of
art. I tend to lie, exaggerate to build suspense and attraction to the story.
Like a clickbait, sort of thing.
Like this one.
LMAOO
Jk
Don’t get me wrong, not all poems I’ve written about ‘that’
is just about me. I have written about others. Like others’ stories. They would
share their stories and id get inspired and write a poem, the most recent
example is ‘a sad man’s love’. (I’m definitely squeezing that poem till the last
drop)
In conclusion, I find meaning in every little incident,
every little conversation and every little eyebrow twitch. Atleast I try to. Honestly,
yeah its tiring. That gets me to the question- “does everything we do have
meaning, defines us as a unique human with a distinct characterstic or are we
reading too much into what is rather a simple indifferent
act?”
Follow me as I overthink about overthinking about others’
overthinking.
Have a great week,
See y’all next week.
Yours lovingly,
Yourorangecloud.
TDD: ten day diary
That turned out well. I love it.
I hope people do realise it was clickbait and not have the
urge to kick me.
Im sorry for posting late. I have to tweak my routine a bit.
Im still trying out things.
My last ten (eleven) days have been- mehhh- just mehhh
Boring, working, numbers. I do have a alarm at 6pm to leave.
So ya. That works (?) ig.
Have a great may ahead.
To all the people who have the summer off- don’t fu-king
tell me.
Bye.
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