Few things piss me off more than someone saying “chill”, or “just relax”!
I mean… wait a second.
Sure. Now that you have said it. I am totally relaxed. Chill. Not caring. Not giving a f—
You see- sister- or brother- or whoever you are-
The issue with giving a f*** is that, you either do or you don’t. There is no “learning how not to give a f***. Sure, one can learn to deal with stressors and anxiety better- but I know from experience, once a giver of f***, always a giver of f***.
I mean I care man. I care if someone is mean to me, same way I care if someone is nice to me. I care if someone I love breaks my heart or doesn’t love me back as much as I want them to. I care if someone says something nasty. I care if someone is upset. I care if they are angry.
By someone I don’t mean random stranger crossing road- though quit
e frankly, I care a little bit about that guy too. But that’s more like I care about global warming kinda care. Not my heart is secretly hurting as I pretend to be ok kinda care.
Anyway, so as I was saying I care. I have learnt to cope with the small heartbreaks that I seem to experience every day. By learning to cope I mean, I cry less, I get angry less. I won’t let it affect my work. I won’t let it give me a sleepless night anymore. But that thought- that f*** that I give, is still there. Quietly staring at me as I go about pretending not to care.
So yea, when someone asks me, “why do you care…”
I really have no answer for them. But a theory. That the world is divided into two kinds of being, those who care and those who don’t. And that in this case, transplants don’t work. Like long legs, you are really just born with it. Also, stuck with it.