listening to love songs in the midnight

(Another piece of paper plucked from the diary of a teen)

The next time you listen to sad love songs, remember that they are not going to alleviate your pain. They will only let you feel worse about things, about yourself. They are a bit of relief for the moment, though. But the next time you ever get to listen to them, know that absorbing the melody of emotions that don’t exist cause nothing but downfall. The legendary singers never knew it. The romantic novelists never knew it. The poets never knew it. Those who did know were well acquainted with the way the world works today. They decided to belong here the moment the revelation occurred to them. And they have, always, ever since. They are regarded as more effective lovers because they know what most women want, they know when these entitled women are bored of their boyfriends and fiancés and husbands, and they know when to throw the bait. They are effective lovers. Their dictionary has no word as ‘emotion’. They are just senseless animals looking for temporary contentment. I used to think mature people need a good bond, a good flow of emotions, some sort of effective current between them and who they adore. I have often loved well, with as much emotional depth as possible. For me, love has always been a matter of chief concern. But who do you love in this world so full of these animals craving nothing but fun and making a fool out of you? How do you make this out? There is hardly any way. When we were little kids, we wanted to be cool. We liked talks about men switching from one woman to another, never actually loving any of them. We liked cool shows. And today, few have grown up. The majority still want to be cool, the fuckboys, the sluts. The good ones could find no place. The so-called charm, the money, the carnal pleasures seized it all. The good ones were left to go crazy in dark rooms at 3 o’ clock midnight. They were given no option. The atheists have fun (because that is what they look for, now) while those left in dark rooms have no option but to close their eyes and pray to God that He save them. The effective ones don’t know what lack of strength the good ones face. They have no interest in knowing. They had motives which were fulfilled and now they don’t give a fuck. They literally don’t give a fuck. This may sound nuts to some people but hey, I hope you could understand, even though I never wish you get into this trouble. It feels so wrong. If you are nice enough and honest enough to give your all to people you love, you will face enormous highs and lows at any given point of time. You wouldn’t be able to sleep until it is morning and the birds start chirping. And that would make you feel so defeated, trust me! You will start believing the opinions of other people about you, the effective ones. But I suggest you do not ever listen to them. You were right all along. You did what strong souls are supposed to do. You did what the weak ones could never afford to do. You proved yourself manlier than these fuckboys who leech on their fathers and think women are toys. Even today, you choose heart over sex organs and that takes a hell lot of courage. That takes rare strength, my boy! Be proud of yourself and stand for what you believe is true and worthwhile. Three years from now, they will get tired of their so-called youth. They will get tired of riding and having fun and breaking beds and will finally crave the same sweetness of emotions they were offered for free, the same thing they took for granted and neglected outright for something that didn’t last long enough. The sluts, after finally turning into good women, will desperately look for gentlemen; and the cool fuckboys will lose manhood completely and live alone, smoking and drinking and playing hide and seek with their neighbor’s children. Oh, my little kids!