NO DIRECTION UNWANTED BLOG

I've always been a type of person who loves reading and writing and someone who tries to express themselves through litrature, cause I don't know how to talk about my feelings with anyone, it's hard for me, I don't know how to frame sentences while - "crying for help", so I started writing when I was young, and expressing my anger and disagree with socity or my peers, but from past one year I've diverted myself from poems to long format RANTING and reading more, maybe now I'm too cautious about grammar or maybe it's just that I grew up and keeping my idgaf attitude.

(Okay when I say I write poem don't expect some literary Marvel, my writing is, mm how to explain it, in short it's not very classy, it sounds like written by someone who uses English as a second language).

Even after writing poems actively for Literary 8-9 years, I never really like poems, because I wasn't able to understand those, I mean medival English is not my Cup of tea, I could only understand it through thorough explanation, and I have no shame in admitting this even a a literature ug student, cause I think accepting is better than pretending, so I always opted for easy language, or I should say colonial version of English, in both my writings and reading. But after a long time I really liked a poem, and specially without any summary

So, I was reading a poem by Michelle Ondaatje, called LETTERS AND OTHER WORDS, cause I have exams coming up, the poem is written in a very simple language, it's totally my style of writing, where writer is expressing his thoughts about his father, or I say whatever he noticed in his father, his habits and alot of other things, which was not really a fairy tale, it was just straight up trauma, a South Asian parent with Emotional unavailability is never a surprising element, right ? 

Picture of my notes

But in whole poem he never actively said that his father was a jerk and their parents marriage was total mess, but he also criticised and pointed all the discomforting things thorough out the poem, which is the most relatable factor for me, as someone from people pleaser community it's really hard for me to criticize or think bad about a person even if I really catch them talking shit about me, (that doesn't means that I'm the perfect soul) I always ended up concluding that the other person might've some sort of situation going on who act like this, so even if I write a simple diary entry, or while re-analysing the situation, I never directly put that person on wrong side, but I also never blamed myself, it's more like putting everything infront of you and let the reader decide what is actually going on, cause I took EVERYONE HAS THEIR OWN PERSEPTION OF EVERY SITUATION, too seriously.

Poem tells us how his parents are suffering soo much, but instead of communication, they opted for silence, the poem is presented the way where we can even see the pain of father, how he wanted to say alot but never able to do that, and ended up writing everything, which writer find after his death.

Like alot of us brown people, writer of the poem also faced alot of situations when he wanted to say, fight, scream but ended up suffocating himself, cause he doesn't had autonomy to react, cause nobody cares if you are young and you say sensible things, but people pay attention to all the gibberish a self proclaimed adult will say, no matter how insensible they are, which is also a very relatable factor.

As I said that poem is written in very easy language, but the content in it is not that easy, it's something you can only feel when you've experienced this, but in easy language it's something like when you wanna cry but you cannot and their is this immense pain in your neck.

Maybe whatever I'm thinking or saying about this poem is a VERY GEN Z, perseption of this poem, but I guess this is the reason why people say that ART IS SUBJECTIVE, although I think as usual I ended up forgetting what I actually wanted to say, and ended up totally going into wrong direction, but I can't help it anymore at the age of almost 21, all I feel that I have that ADHD shit.

Well I don't wanna end this rant, but you know typing this much with attention span of cat is literally hard for me, so I'm ending it with following line bye me......

All my life I hated adults, but ended up becoming one.....

.

.

If you are still reading this NO DIRECTION UNWANTED BLOG, then congratulations you successfully wasted five precious minutes of you already fucked up life, which you could easily utilise watching four new trends on social media, thank you 🐱.

Bye bye 👋