Contrary to Wet, Wet, Wet’s ode to love, it’s cynacism and not love that’s all around us.
It’s spewing from every pore of many around me. It threathens to engulf me too. Gotta stop this monster from spreading its tentacles.
Yesterday, whilst having a long tete-a-tete with a close friend, she confided that with every hurt and every dissapointment, she develops a new layer of skin — and it’s pretty thick. It makes her immune to getting hurt. At the same time it makes her detached from feeling too much for anyone. She controls what she feels with alomost a vengeance. And she’s just 24 years old. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Only time will tell.
I have a comment to make, but I’ll save it.
Okay, I won’t hold it. It’s very very sad. People who protect themselves from getting hurt by guarding their hearts so as to not fall in love are the ones who really lose out. Not the ones who experience hurt, but the ones who never experience love.
It’s only human and natural to build callouses and to “learn” from past mistakes. But sometimes the fences we build are a bit to high… a bit too fortified. We keep out the enemies and friends alike. We become prisoners of our own fortresses. This is not something to strive for.
And what does this mean that these are Indians? Isn’t India all about the heart (or so I’ve read)? How does one live in a society that is all about the heart when they have blocked their heart from others, especially at such a young age?