Suffering

I wrote this one evening last year when I was ill and was terribly down....

Trapped in this setting I feel as though I am going to fail in my quest to overcome the pain. I try to hide it, and I suppose I do a decent job of it, but it seems as though I am loosing the battle. The obvious symptoms being that I get irritated, frustrated and at times just feel like being left alone. I wish I could convey to people to leave me alone rather than to pester me and leech out every ounce of blood and energy from within me.

Oh how much I want to cleans myself of this pain. I don't blame it on the nature or any-such thing for I know that nature is pitilessly indifferent. It is neither good, nor bad. Neither kind, nor cruel. Just callously indifferent. And that is the way things are. People hesitate admitting it, although I am sure they are aware of it at some level or another. Perhaps we all want things to be rosy and good and nice... I suppose I am no different, but on the other hand I do relaize that is like the chase to find the horizon --- an infinite run. Oh how tangled web we weave... knowing all well that there is no way out of it!

The nature is pitiless, but humans are supposed to be filled with virtue, compassion etc. They are not supposed to be gloomy, repulsive and cold --- colder than the devil himself. Humans thrive on their ability to empathize, love, feel and express compassion, yet at most of the times I find them to be colder than blizzard itself. This scares me and saddens me at the same time. It reminds me of a story I once read:

There was once a small kid. He had a small corner in his backyard, where he had planted some flowers. He took good care of them: watered them, weeded them etc.
But one day when he went to water them, he found his flower-bed dug up, the flowers destroyed, and lying on the crushed stems was his sick dog, whom he loved just as much. The dog had broken his leg the day before, while playing with the kid. It was a sad sad day for the kid, but the day was clear, bright and pleasant. The cursed Sun was shinning with more than customary zeal and indifference.

I suppose that is what is expected of nature, but what gets me most is how the kids parents, and so called well-wishers dealt with the situation --- they all insisted that next spring, the flowers will bloom again and that there is no need to feel bleak; or that the dog ought to be punished for ruining his garden. It is {sad}, but that is how it is.

One year has passed and things have gotten worse still. My heart, mind and body is still as much in pain, if not more, as it was last year. All else except what is desolate and sad has faded from my memory, like the image from the TV set. Why is it that things that leave impression on me are sad and tragic things/events? How come I am unable to sustain the feeling of happiness? Just questions and questions that is all I have. The more I try to seek answers, the more tangled I get in this thick web of kaleidoscopic soup of questions. I suppose some of the questions are unwarranted, but they surface up just the same, like why do I exist when all I do is complain, whine, curse and question?
I don't know.