The Grey Area In The Head

Say, I often don’t admit my sleepless nights ever since my father went away. When I have, I invariably experience a weird kind of happiness from the other person, a “fuh, she was wrong after all!” and it’s worse that that coz some people do desperate, bad, mean, horrible and hateful things to bury their insecurities.

Because of that, I don’t share easily. I don’t trust easily. I’ve been told I’m laid back, quite confident and friendly, I tend to let things flow. It’s not that I don’t have my opinions and insecurities – enough that I wonder how I hide them well enough to be considered laid back, confident, even.

After years of fighting others’ insecurities, like a disease, I try hard not to let my insecurity run my life. I’ve seen the horrible effect it has on ordinarily nice people. It’s sad to see them in such state. It’s like a demon inside, insidious and hateful. A cancer that destroys kindness. And it’s catching. I’d say money is not the root of all evil. Insecurity is the root of all evil. Coz what people do when reminded of their insecurities?

Everybody together now and shout: They go all righteous on your ass. :) 

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