Anecdotes and Realizations

Bodies. Such a big part of our social profile but one over which we have the least control. As soon as we see something, we feel like sharing our Vishesh Tippani. We feel that the world will be left in a sorry, despondent state unless we heroically step in and tell them what we think about it. We feel that telling people exactly what we think about their life is an act of grace. We are after all doing it with good intentions.  Look, I get it. In prehistoric times, if you were looking for a partner, a ripped,six-foot man would have been useful to protect you from well, being eaten by a bear, a mammoth, or whatever was around back then. But today, when the biggest threat from the wild is mosquitoes and where we can protect ourselves, perhaps a spouse could be someone more than a weapon.  Everybody's looking for that ripped, six-pack, muscled-up guy or that flat-stomached, heavy-breasted girl. Your beauty is relative to whatever people hold as the most beautiful in the world. The idea

 I thought I'd sown up all the tears in my blue dress I'd used thread made of shining pure salt It took me months to repair, their nails were so sharp, and now I'm sitting wondering what the point was I thought I had made the taps all leak-proof I double-checked and triple-checked so many times But then I woke up one day and felt the world slide Like everyone was moving and I was left behind I thought that the skeletons of my past would die I never thought they could climb out from a grave so deep Then why is it that suddenly I feel like I'm the creep Why does the look of my face disgust me? I thought I'd got my restart I thought I could abandon all the ghosts of my past But here they are again, shining in my face I don't know if I'm confused or silently weeping in pain And all I want to know is - was it my fault? Was it my fault that caused the earth to crack? Are these little lies from a darker source Or is this as far as my shallow heart goes? And everybo