None of you have asked for my opinion, but this thread is about how personal choice doesn't seem to matter anyways, so let's have at it.
This guy killed himself - this guy who prolly needn't have. 1/14
Okay, happens to the best of us. Happened to Robin Williams, probably happened to Marilyn Monroe, DEF happened to Clark Kent in Batman v Superman. 2
Now, I hate the conversation around this. I hate the allegations flying left and right, I hate the gold digger accusations, 3
I hate the graphic dissection of the gory details, I hate Anupam Kher screaming "sapnon ko roka nahi jaa skta" (a boy with his ambition couldn't have just killed himself) and I HATE that my naniji has to sit around listening to "drugs" and "ecstasy" on national TV... 4
Not because it's wrong to be upfront about drug use/abuse, but that this is what the conversation has devolved into. 5
I could argue (with some amount of credibility) that there's other things to worry about. We could be talking about the migrant workers, we could be talking about the lost of tech jobs courtesy InfoSys, w 6
e could talk about India's CoViD 19 growth rate, we could talk about how Dawood Ibrahim still has enough power to get his girlfriend movie deal after movie deal (Mehwish, honey, you do you). 7
But I can't begrudge you that conversation. Maybe you have the headspace to juggle all of them, and deem them all necessary. Me, I've sort of made a resolution to not care. To not care about things outside my control. 8
Which is what makes me so darn angry. This issue, of a young man killing himself, being blown to conspiracy theories involving the state chief minister inviting him to rave parties with the Khans holding the throne and Johar being the main reason for nepotism somehow. 9
And we had a CHANCE. We had a chance to legitimately make a difference in the conversation surrounding mental health. We had a CHANCE to say "hey maybe the kids who die in Kota don't deserve to be called outliers" 10
We had a chance to respect this man's final days instead of dissecting his every move and how his ex slept with his roomie and how he emotionally depended on his co star and... This 11
I'm not saying something should be done. This is one of my rare serious posts where I take a break from exporting Tumblr culture to Twitter. I just wanted to scream into the void that no matter where I go, how many "Not Interested in..." boxes I check, no matter how much i try 13
Conversations seek me out and etch themselves onto my retina. And it's taking its toll. Twitter has always been my cathartic way of screaming into the void. I hope none of this was triggering or tasteless, but it is meant as just this - personal catharsis. Thanks for listening 14
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