Obnoxious.

There are sometimes when tears dwell up in your eyes when you allow yourself to be vulnerable and two days earlier, I had the same condition. With a rutted page and glossy pen, my hand allows my heart to be vulnerable but my mind ceases to be so sentimental and cages my spirit in an intellectual dilemma.

I come from a modest family where un-convenationalism has its roots coming only from my cerebral cortex and its figs are not permitted to sow itself in my parents mind. Living in a family that questions your independence and right to liberty is definitely a destructive and obnoxious experience to survive and have an existentialist feeling on a diurnal basis.

Every now and then, I try hard to convince my parents to understand the way I want to align my path for achieving my dreams the way I have indisposed. Also, I haven’t really thought about my dreams but the vision I always modified will be the pillars of my personal development and the basic notion of none compensating on happiness and love is just broke to my parents. In any way I do not disregard their concern but the way this self conceitedness and shallow mindedness has taken my middle class parents is concerning to me personally and I am accountable to a lot of youngsters like me who suffer incredulously with the way their parents react towards their goals and ambitions.

I am not alone in this one. Sometimes, I feel defenceless and my shiny armour just disappears in my mental concussions which tell me to be aggressive on a level because the media has taught that being loud will be easier for a lot of people to put forth their viewpoints. The feeling of not making history repeat is sometimes so evident that lessons behind those are just left unseen.

The only way I divert my attentions is watching rom-coms and reading books to just become the way life hack has promised me to become. Guess, Fredrich Nietzsche is just the right inspiration for adolescents. Being a nihilist sometimes becomes so philosophical that even a cigar would not help reduce the high on life. As I write this, my parents have no faith in me, they doubt that boyfriends are just what I crave for, I don’t doubt that and well with an exquisite amount of erotic consumptions will likely make me expect a lot from my future partner but today when parents have to understand the difference between a caretaker or a caregiver and a mentor the streamlining seems difficult because all they want me to accomplish is their incomplete dreams and ambitions and this make me feel obnoxious.