Bookitty

   Its that time of the year again. When everyone around me is talking about how content they feel with the person they are today. When they somehow make themselves believe that the worst is over. Today is the day everyone tells themselves that they are a better and a stronger person than they were a year ago to say the very least (even though we have as much of a claim to this newfound strength than that heartache that caused it but still).   January first has always been a date whose liking by the mass public manages to confuse me.I still have trouble comprehending how the flick of a mere page in our calendars blesses most of us oblivion from a task our hidden flawed parts dislike the most : self-evaluation.  Or can it really be called self-evaluation anymore? When none of us remember the last time an observation was made by us for only our sake? Can we really label today’s average projected teenager as satisfied when the very verdict of his capabilities is given

"  I asked, “Who‘s there?” It’s me. It‘s me again. And it’s me the third time."    The human society has been functioning for centuries now.Our history books are filled with tales of glory and failure our ancestors experienced in respective parts of their worlds ;even as they contradict one other one thing is transparent as we lay eyes upon our surroundings.Through the wars and bloodshed, through the decades of women being treated as animals and children as slaves ,we somehow survived. We developed into a world which can to say the very least ,keep up with the illusion of peace if not its notion. " I wanted someone to notice (my suffering), but no one knew. Of course, they wouldn't. They never met me before."    I can envision a day for it.The day when people realize how ugly we are on our insides and take a day off to think about who they are as people rather than what they represent. I write with the hope that my words will bring you up to sp