Snippets and Stories: (I) Escaped Me

Why bother trying to capture with writing that which one can't find the words for?

Despite being a hobbyist writer, and Shir's way with words, expressing oneself through speech and writing both, left much to be desired.

Nothing seemed to capture it right. Nothing felt right.

Yet he couldn't help but want to try, for the memories that he could scarcely recall, the faces he could no longer see, and most basic desire to connect with another.

Everyone wanted to be understood.

Few ever did.

Humans were conceited that way.

"No one understands me."

"No one wants to. No one tries to."

"I'm all alone."

All selfish thoughts. Because often Times there is someone there.

Rather, they're not what we want them to be. They don't tell us what we want to hear.

Despite knowing so, Shir felt a touch of the loneliness that he shouldn't have felt. Didn't have a right to feel.

It was confusing. Painful. Still is.

So he writes to try and understand himself.

Why did he still feel the way he did?

And of course he receives no answer, much less his own, that he would find satisfactory rather than of vapid self reassurance.

Shir felt sick.

Maybe the reason people want for someone else to understand, is because they themselves could not. 

Like a Mother's gentle, yet firm, hand of guidance, it is comforting to be in control. Yet easier still to be led. After all, when someone else is driving, it's their mistakes not one's own, regardless of what consequences are suffered.