Whole my life I’m surrounded with the friends who are quarrelsome and garrulous by birth, and aggressive in demeanor. I am one among them. I’ve read somewhere that a man becomes what he reads and what sort of people surrounds him.
I did no reading in school. It was later, my curiosity towards English, I started reading books. By and by my English improved enough to allow me share my thoughts with others.
I became the person by choosing my friend circle and not by books. Books made me intelligent while my experiences made me wise.
My talkativeness helped me to speak and write freely. I don’t feel afraid quarreling with teachers, elders, friends and even foes. I write what I think and believe.
A lot of my readers have appreciated me that my words influence them a lot. If I am in any cocktail party, people would gather around me to hear my philosophies.
I’ve withdrawn attention of dozens of people with my quick sense of humor and knowledge. However, my writings do not show any humor or sarcasm. As a reader point of view, it appears as if I am a depressed writer, which is a grievous error.
I am neither an introvert nor a person who is betrayed in love. In fact, I’ve made love with almost every girl that passed my life. A woman does not want a man with high intellects. They need a man who can make them laugh. Stand before her, fall in love with her, make her laugh and she is yours. Truly, when I begin to talk to any girl, I fall in love with her.
Your bank balance can impress people but if you confront a big loss financially, all your ready-made friends will run and hide themselves in mountains. They will become invisible at once. You can never find them again in your life.
The only person will stand beside you is you itself. The words that you commit with yourself will decide what is going to be done with you.
I’ve always seen my words as my beloved. I’m married with my own words. No one can separate me. These words will live and die with me. When I inhale, the words enter my soul. I don’t know from where they are coming. But I have felt with each breath I am filled with new philosophies.
When I exhale, it leaves its impression on my soul. This is true love. I don’t care who else is interested in my words. I love my words and that’s enough. And that’s whole a lot for everyone who can understand me.
I selected words in between my words and voice. Instead of high pitch voice, I choose heavy words. My words are only mine and of no one else. These are my life. And the whole universe I can find in them.
People just speak that everyone is different, but to accept it is a difficult, almost impossible for a weak man. If everyone will accept, there will be no competition, no jealousy, no killing of humankind. There will be peace and brotherhood.
Try uniqueness. Accept it. Write it. Or even fix it in your eyes. There is no use to bear anything in brain. Brain is full of garbage. Fix it in your eyes so you can see it every second, every minute, every moment you live.
You are the one of whom the world is waiting for. If you will not allow your own words to open you, then you will die like a chicken. Do not die like a chicken. Walk, run, live or if you want to die then die like a soldier of your own inner universe.
Free yourself with this world, with the people around you and accept yourself. Don’t run behind your life like a dog running aimlessly behind a car. Don’t impress people. Don’t get excited on the name of God.
Stop impressing me too. I don’t know about the people and the God, but if you talk to me, make sure you speak your own words. Otherwise, you are in a big trouble.