W - Wasted

She clutched the neck of the bottle like it was a lifeline and took another swig. Her step staggered just a little bit but her glazed eyes gave away the number of drinks she had downed before she had laid her hands on the bottle. 

Hours ago, when she had taken her first sip, the alcohol had burnt at her throat. Now, she didn’t really feel anything.

And that’s pretty much how she liked it. Numbed.

Numbed from the pain of reality. Numbed from the wreck of a family which had never given her any security, let alone love, the pain of being stuck in a dream job with a boss who put his hands up her skirt every single chance he got. Numbed from the complications and implications of having too many people wishing her a happy birthday but too few friends.

Today, she reveled in that state of numbness when the only thing she could feel was the buzz in her ear. Today, she took pleasure in the buzz even as her head sagged onto her shoulder and her spine slumped against the couch.

Today, she got wasted. For tomorrow was going to be a fresh battle.

 
P.S: There is something very mysterious about people who drink alone.

Aggrandize With Gold

I found this quote on Facebook and I have one Mr. Rohith Ramdas to thank for it. It's surprising how you can find these little nuggets of pure, unadulterated perfection when you sift through the wasteland that Facebook has become.

Anyhoo, isn't the quote just perfect? Makes you think about all the flaws you have, all the things that you hate about your past in a better way.

Everyone suffers in life - some more, some less. For some it is the wrath of their Fate or, if you so choose to believe, the repercussions of their actions, Karma. While for others, suffering becomes what they will upon themselves, either creating sadness for sympathy and martyrdom or refusing to acknowledge all that is perfect in their life for the sake of one tiny thing that they don't have.

Either way the suffering is real.
But it goes away. It will go away.

What truly matters is who you become after it.

You can either be that person who is pitied by all, languishing in the throes of sadness or you can choose to become more beautiful for the suffering which has made you better and your history is what defines who you are today.

Which one do you choose?