I feel like we are mass hypnotized to be stupids.
There are a million thoughts in my mind. I think I make at least an ounce of sense out of them. But I don’t. I won’t. Somehow, I fell in love with madness. Yeah, it’s bizarre. But what’s not? The whole human race is bizarre. The entire universe is bizarre. I think, comparatively, my bizarreness isn’t that bizarre. The problem is when you make sense of things, when you give the thoughts a shape, a name to call, you destroy it. You imprison it into a mould that the society designed. The love feels exotic until and unless you realize you are in love. In the beginning, when it is all clumsy and cloudy, a glance of her is enough to bring butterflies into your stomach. A short, accidental gaze of her on you is enough to make your heart pound as if you are falling from the top of the Everest. Once you realize it is love, once you get into relationship with her, it is not enough anymore. Nothing is enough anymore. You both fight, there are ten missed calls from her on your mobile. But i...