Writing

Strangers and friends.

All around me I see smiles, laughs and happiness. On me others see smiles, laughs and happiness. Isn’t this a queer game we play, pretending to be happy. I say pretending because there is no way all of us are this happy.

We are practically strangers, mildly friends. We hang out in the same circles amd only know details about each other through gossip. But how much of it is real? And does it really show insight into the person?

You say you know me because you heard quite somethings from a certain someone who heard it from another certain someone. This is like the chinese whispers game we used to play as kids, don’t you see? Facts, words, sentences and ultimately the news chamges as it goes from mouth-to-mouth. You still say you know me. You still say we’re friends.

I am blunt. I don’t say that, I hardly know you. I don’t know your hopes and your dreams, I don’t know who you love the most from all your heart, I don’t know who you want to be and whether you dislike who you are. I don’t know, how can I call myself your friend.

Would I like to? Maybe. Maybe not. Would you like to? Wouldn’t I want to know. But none of us are interested enough to truly invest time in each other. We remain mostly strangers, mildly friends.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Strangers and friends.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s