Back in 2013, the prime time. Grade 8 and grade 9. Life was at a peak. What was before that was something too fucked up. What came after that, I fucked them up.
But there was a time, the time before this, a time years ago that things were beautiful. Grade 8 and grade 9. It was the most magical times in life. The beginning of calibration into a certain World view that would lead me to where I'm today and who I am today. Those times, the first of the times when I found the people, my people. The ones I could trust. The ones who were something of a comrades. My first friend and then the first friend circle. Perhaps all life, I was never loyal to a single friend circle. I always had multiple circles that I tried to keep mutually exclusive. I didn't want them to mix up. So this girl, we were the best of the friends. And then the group of three girls, we were the four. This was a comfort circle. Then the group of us, a group of 7. We were wild. The worst stuff, breaking into offices, breaking rules, we were there. This was the time I was slowly changing to a personal that people found problematic. So I became this topper, the genius who was too problematic, to rebellious but loved by her classmates and had the people who would support her no matter how much trouble she pulled on.
Right now, though I do have a few circles, it isn't the same. As people grow old, they grow selfish and afraid too. You can't really find people who would be comrades in war. In rebellion. In problems. I have actually accepted it because that's how people are. But I can't help thinking of that time before when there wasn't an inch of fear in my system.
That was the time of silly but impressionable art. The hunger games. Katniss, Peeta and Gale. Life was glorious. I was carefree. But just for two years mind you. Not before, not after. Reading twilight though it was utter cringe. Watching it for a sense of completion. That time when you love gale and then as you are older you realise Peeta was the better suited for Katniss. The Harry Potter days, those weren't that confusing but actually joyful.
Now, after 7 or 8 years, I think I feel that again even though it's all changed. Now I am at a point of acceptance and the art consumption isn't that cringe. At a point when we hate people around us. But that joy, that happiness from grade 8 and 9, it's back. It's so relieving and joyful. I have sadly become a happy person and actually accept it too. This friend from that circle is the one who wants me to do masters with them. I imagine how awesome it would be to be back with my people, in college again, if I ever choose to pursue a master's.
Wow. Life is awesome. It's almost like I have never been grateful and realised how blessed Iam and I'm making up to it by being extra grateful. I won't say life is good. It's unfair and fucking cruel. But we don't have to see that nor be the same and it's good to realise and accept it. Finally
Happiness is just a concept. A worldview I guess.
It's awesome when I re read the stuff I wrote, finally happy that it's almost completed and I actually had the fucking focus and was not an inch lazy and was able to do what I wanted to do.
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