My facial muscles need a change.

“How are you?” A casual question to which I must say “Fine,Thank you!”

Once I actually responded with an  “I died yesterday”. And we went on to speak at length of life in general. I don’t think we are really listening to each other. Not deeply as we need to be heard. The shallowness of communication is distressing.

If I insist on being heard I get advice on what I can do, what indeed I MUST- and I am fed up of doing this by myself.

I have this face book page on which I accept almost all requests. I get personal confidential mails, people call me and are supportive- but in private.

What is it about communicating freely and boldly in public that puts us off?

Smita does not want to smile anymore. She is laughing at herself- for thinking too much talking too much.

All advice says, get off my face- take your mess elsewhere. It is the same as mine- and I am not doing anything about it. I am bearing it- so should you.

I am not sure I want to stop thinking- yes, one day I shall not be able to- hopefully my body will also have passed on then

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