Stupid Adjective

By Anveeksha Reddy

Selfish, that’s what I am, don’t misjudge the adjective, it never seemed to dismay me on accord to the popular belief, rather I hearken myself back to the vintage pasts in which I drowned in desperation to choose myself in the ocean of people who never belonged to my life to begin with, a part of me which seemed to yearn, to beg for my attention in my own life. No, it wasn’t an outsider that bought me high in my vision, maybe it was not the gushing flow of wind which puts out the Incandescent flame of the candle, perhaps it is the candle itself which decides to put itself out, it’s tired, exhausted of bringing effervescence into everyone around itself, or maybe it’s the vehemence to cease the pain of the burning flame inflicting upon on its own self to brighten its surroundings. The need to protect myself from the ever fading burn scars overpowered my desire to please people who never owed me an ounce of themselves while I lay myself bare, vulnerable and in a million tiny pieces which never seem to come back to their picturesque glass doll they were originally broken from, maybe home far away seems  less of a home and major of an uncomfortable tinge of nostalgia coursing through my veins which threatens to cut itself open again and repeat the antique history of losing my remaining distant pieces which were thwarted be my selfishness. Being selfish was never new to me, it was a mere stupor of a belief to consider myself to be selfless. My selfishness was ephemeral, it would fade into oblivion the moment I let my guard down, start the journey of blinding myself and trusting another person to lead me on without any pernicious events leading through, maybe now I was selfish, selfish enough to believe that someone would put me above their comfort, that was the fiasco of selfishness. That was the menace of my sobriety.

By Anveeksha Reddy