And Sumantics from the blogs I follow fame, gave me a beautiful book yesterday called Eddie's Bastard. I read it in one sitting. Debilitating illness of the body and mind made it easy to finish the book.
The book speaks about a family that believes they are cut out for greatness. But not in a smug, I'm too good for the world way (which is how most families destined for the world's greatness end up as) which is such a piss off. These people know pain, have suffered everthing from fratricide to near bankruptcy, but continue to be as decent as they possibly can. Anyway I was vulnerable enough to have liked the book which has some wonderful facts about life, which I've always believed in.
So I conclude, Bhumika, know thyself again. And Bhumika, you are destined for greatness.
I remember how this guy I dated told me with much heat that what he hated most about me was the way I always managed to turn anything bad that happened to me to something beneficial. And that's true. I do that. I've always been - oh, life, you being bitchy? Show me what you got and see if I don't bitch you right back.
And now here I am. A perfect stranger to my own self. So Bhumika, know thyself again. And Bhumika, you are destined for greatness.
Which doesn't really explain why I want to simply curl up and die and not suffer so much pain everywhere. Which doesn't really explain why there is nothing to do and nothing to look forward to. And no, I'm not whining nor indulging in self-pity. If you think I am, please exchange lives with me and see and feel and know. So there.