I know it sounds dramatic but its true. Now-a-days i am afraid to write.

I am afraid to write to my heart's content in fear that people will find it too long and from what i have been seeing these last few days, they don't like to read anything that they can't finish in 5 minutes, that doesn't strike their brains instantly, that takes its time to evolve and mature, that makes them think and work to get the true gist. I was never good in writing jokes, my frustrations( why would i like to bore people with them, I used to think but apparently people like to know what's happening in other peoples' lives. In short we are all big soap-opera junkies!) or the subtle art of poetry. I am trying to rhyme recently, but its just not me. I like to construct. i like to make these big top heavy plots, to make characters, to write their lives and make them do awesome things.

But its a curse of social media, I guess. With time you start to like the attention when anybody polls you or tells you how awesome you are or points out some little error you missed out. And then like an addiction you start craving it. You feel hurt when you spend a few days writing something awesome and a bare few people read it while at the same time someone copy-pastes a joke or balantly palgiarises something and gets all the attention. It confuses you. You thought this was not a social media platform like facebook or twitter or dozens of others scattered out there. You thought this was a platform to write, to be creative, to improve yourself.

This unknowingly changes you. You start thinking how can you make your writing catchy. Should you write on love? Break-up? They are in vogue now a days. You try it but you realise that you can't. There are no words, there are no feelings, just a simple pretend, a task. But writing was never a task for you. It was something special, something religious. It was never so... so... lowly. You feel wronged, you feel guilty like somehow you have stabbed a part of you. But more than anything else you feel ashamed. For sinking so low. For objectifying something you used to love. For betraying yourself.

You then realise that this is not you. Lets stop pretending. Pretending to think that you have found kindred spirits. Pretending to think that this really matters for it never did before. Now there is one path before you. The clouds are clearing. You are finally ready to accept what has been staring at you for quite some time now. Let go. Admit that while it lasted it was heart-warming but it was not for you. This is not what you had been looking for, searching for a long time, knowingly or unknowingly. It was similar and gave you a good respite but now its time to go. Time to let go.

And begin a new journey...

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