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When Oblivious is Bliss

When Oblivious is Bliss

Maybe it’s because I ignore a lot of things, like the slight frown, or the furrow in someone’s eyebrows, maybe I refuse to see it or perhaps it’s because I’m happier living in my world. To think everyone loves me makes me happy. When you tend to believe in the best in people it hard seeing their worst. When your conclusions are all wrong you tend to question order cialis your judgement.

I strongly recall being so blissfully ignorant to the world around me http://canadianpharmacy-rxonline.com/ till one day it crashed.

Blissful because I was happy as a stupid sheep.

I’ve always been the outspoken one in any group. If any of my class teachers asked a question, my arm was first in the air. Sometimes because it always happens, the teachers ignore my raised waving hand picking another student. Maybe it’s because I’m annoying them with my excitement my eagerness to answer.

I never knew.

When I learnt from my peers it’s so annoying and I was such a show off. I can’t say for sure but I slowly stopped. I then became the last hand up in the air when I was sure no one would answer. Or I’d mutter the answer under my breath or jolt it down in my notebook. I stopped jolting it down in my notebook because the girl or boy who would sit next to me would try to peer at what I wrote and it made me uncomfortable.

I remember the start of fourth form when I did well for my first examination and a girl told a majority of the class that something wasn’t right and that I cheated. It stung because I had started putting effort into things.

Then one day, my grades dropped.

I remember loving so many people, not all in a romantic kind but some in the way you’d look at a brother or sister. I remember hospital visits, wondering if it’s the last viagra online time I’d see them. When the news hit so many times I finally didn’t react. I’d train my emotions to look neutral. I’d cry myself to sleep every night as the grief hit me. I think a little part of me died every time I heard the news. It’s like we’ve all got so many faces we have to everyone, to the one you trust, to the one you’re concerned about to the ones you love chatting too. So when they pass away, and to be buried under the ground. I think I bury pieces of me too.

If I thought losing people to death was bad, I was sorely mistaken, losing those who are alive are worse. Like any other teen, I met with puppy love. Like most teens, it didn’t last. He was my best friend and when all things fell apart. He didn’t want to be my best friend. There’s so many times of grief on a planet. Seeing him was torture. How can you care for someone so much and be unable to talk to them. You still see them, happy, sad, conflicted, and angry and you’re unable to be with them. It was like viewing him through an unspeakable glass.

It hurt because I’d try to break the glass, cutting my hand through the process to learn it was one of many glasses.

Then there’s disbelief. No one could believe I cared enough because I was indifferent to the news but at night it’ll hit me as I viagra canada pharmacy review recall the last of everything. The last time. The last moments.

It felt like blades through my heart. There were so many, too many. I can’t stand with it. Time goes on, I get weaker every day. How many more could I take? The words are louder, signs prominent. I lose people, people who are still alive. I can’t do anything about it. With death comes closure, with the living comes torture. I drown in a sea of hateful words. I can’t comprehend them at times. They’re fast, small signs, painful stings when http://cialisonline-rxstore.com/ it’s revealed. Like a mask of someone you perceived as beautiful.

I can’t think straight, I’ve begun to believe them.

I refuse viagra to speak. I refuse to exist.

I look up at my ceiling, there’s cracks on what once was a clean plate. I cry myself to sleep. I’d glance at the cracks wondering if the ceiling could still stand till one day it shatters, it breaks, and it falls on

Me.

There’s bliss in ignorance, pain in seeing. If you ever want to look at the truth, be strong

for it because if you’re not. It’ll kill you.

Loveena RJ is an 18 year old student, who is often found hiding in some part of the library dreaming or doing assignments. She does not wish to be disturbed half the time but fancies a good cup of tea and some cheesy fries.

Photo courtesy of www.74211.com

 

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